CHAPTER III.

'I have seen a man, a worthy man,In happy mood conversing with a fly;And as he through his glass, made by himself,Beheld its wondrous eye and plumage fine,From leaping scarce he kept for perfect joy.'

It is proper, however, to notice that a serious objection has been urged against the use of the microscope by young persons, namely, the injurious effects of its habitual use upon the eyesight.

So far as my experience goes, I cannot deny that this objection is well founded. Since I have begun to use the instrument, I am obliged, if I wish toview distinctly any distant object, to distort my eyes somewhat to the shape of ill-formed button-holes puckered in the sewing. Some individuals, I am aware, foolishly affect this appearance, from the notion that it exhibits an outward and visible sign of their inward profundity of character. In my own case this result may have arisen from my having worked principally at night or in the dusk. 'As to the sight being injured by a continuous examination of minute objects,' writes Mr. Clark, a most scientific naturalist, 'I can truly say this idea is wholly without foundation, if the pursuit is properly conducted; and that, on the contrary, it is materially strengthened by the use of properly adapted glasses, even of high powers; and in proof I state, that twenty years ago I used spectacles, but the continued and daily examination of these minutiæ (foraminifera) has so greatly increased the power of vision, that I now read the smallest type without difficulty and without aid. The great point to be attended to is not to use a power that in the least exceeds the necessity; not to continue the exercise of vision too long, and never by artificial light; and to reserve the high powers of certain lenses and the microscope for important investigations of very moderate continuance. The observant eye seizes at a glance the intelligence required; whilst strained poring and long optical exertions are delusive and unsatisfactory, and produce those fanciful imaginations of objects whichhave really no existence. The proper time for research after microscopic objects is foronehour after breakfast, when we are in the fittest state for exertion.'

Mr. Lewes, again, speaking to the same point, viz., the eyes being injured by microscopic studies, says:—'On evidence the most conclusive I deny the accusation. My own eyes, unhappily made delicate by over-study in imprudent youth, have been employed for hours daily over the microscope without injury or fatigue. By artificial light, indeed, I find it very trying; but by daylight, which on all accounts is the best light for the work, it does not produce more fatigue than any other steadfast employment of the eye. Compared with looking at pictures, for instance, the fatigue is as nothing.'

In spite of the foregoing assertions, I feel it my duty to caution the student against excess of labour. Let him ride his hobby cautiously, instead of seeking to enrol his name among the martyrs of science, of whom the noble Geoffry St. Hilaire, M. Sauvigny, and M. Strauss Dürckheim, are noted modern examples. Each member of this celebrated trio spent the latter part of his existence in physical repose, having become totally blind from intense study over the microscope. But setting aside the evils of excess, we must bear witness to the intense delight which this pursuit affords when followed with moderation.

"'Tis sweet to muse upon the skill displayed(Infinite skill!) in all thatHehas made:To trace in Nature's most minute designThe signature and stamp of power divine.Contrivance intricate, expressed with ease,Where unassisted sight no beauty sees."

As my aim is merely to give the reader a taste of the subject, and whet his appetite for its more extensive pursuit at other sources, I shall confine my remarks to a few of those creatures which are readily to be found in any well-stocked aquarium. The number of animalculæ and microscopic zoospores of plants, invisible to the naked eye, with which such a receptacle is filled, even when the water is clear as crystal, is truly marvellous. These animals mostly belong to the classInfusoria, so called from their being found to be invariably generated in anyinfusion, or solution of vegetable or animal matter, which has begun to decay. Now, the water in an aquarium which has been kept for any length of time necessarily becomes more or less charged with the effete matter of its inhabitants, which, if allowed to accumulate, would soon render the fluid poisonous to every living thing within it. This result is happily averted by the Infusoria, which feed upon the decaying substances in solution, while they themselves become in their turn the food of the larger animals. Indeed, they constitute almost the sole nutriment of many strong, muscular shell-fish, as pholas, mussel, cockle, &c.; and doubtless help to maintain the life of others, such as actiniæ, and even crabs, which, as iswell known, live and grow without any other apparent means of sustenance. Thus the presence of Infusoria in the tank may be considered a sign of its healthy condition, although their increase to such an extent as to give a milky appearance to the water, is apt to endanger the well-being of the larger, though delicate creatures. The peculiar phenomenon alluded to arises from decaying matter, such as a dead worm or limpet, which should be sought after and removed with all possible speed. The whereabouts of such objectionable remains will be generally indicated by a dense cloud of Infusoria hovering over the spot. The milkiness, however, although it may look for the time unsightly, is ofttimes the saving of the aquarium 'stock.' When these tiny but industrious scavengers have completed their task of purification, they will cease to multiply, and mostly disappear, leaving the water clear as crystal. I believe it is the absence or deficient supply of Infusoria that sometimes so tantalizingly defeats the attempts of many persons to establish an aquarium. Pure deep-sea water, although never without them, often contains but very few, hence great caution is necessary not to overstock the tank filled with it, otherwise the animals will die rapidly, although the water itself appears beautifully transparent.

Of Infusoria there are many species. They are nearly all, at one stage or other of their existence, extremely vivacious in their movements; so much so,indeed, that it becomes a matter of difficulty to observe them closely. Some have the power of darting about with astonishing velocity, others unceasingly gyrate, or waltz around with the grace of a Cellarius; while not a few content themselves by, slug-like, dragging their slow length along. The last are frequently startled from their propriety and aplomb by the rapid evolutions of their terpshicorean neighbours. Some, again, grasping hold of an object by one of their long filaments, revolve rapidly round it, whilst others spring, leap, and perform sundry feats of acrobatism that are unmatched in dexterity by any of the larger animals.

I may here observe that the motions and general structure of many of the microscopic forms of vegetation, so much resemble those of some of the infusoria, that it has long puzzled naturalists to distinguish between them with any degree of certainty. The chief distinction appears to lie in the nature of their food. Those forms which are truly vegetable can live upon purely inorganic matter, while the animals require that which is organized. The plants also live entirely by the absorption of fluid through the exterior, while the animalculæ are capable of taking in solid particles into the interior of the body. Their mode of multiplication, and the metamorphoses they undergo, are much alike in both classes, being, during one stage of their existence, still and sometimes immovably fixed to stones, sea-weed, &c., and at anotherfreely swimming about. Notwithstanding the similarities here stated, the appearance of certain of the species is as various as it is curious. One of the commonest species of the Infusoria (Paramecium caudatum) is shaped somewhat like a grain of rice, with a piece chipped out on one side, near the extremity of its body. It swims about with its unchipped extremity foremost, rotating as it goes. During the milky condition of the water (before alluded to), these creatures swarm to such a degree, that a single drop of the fluid, when placed under the microscope, appears filled with a dense cloud of dancing midges. Another (Kerona silurus) may be said to resemble a coffee-bean, with a host ofcilia, or short bristles, on the flat side. These are used when swimming or running. But perhaps the most singular and beautiful of all the infusorial animalcules are theVorticellæ, which resemble minute cups or flower-bells, mounted upon slender retractile threadlike stalks, by which they are moored to the surface of the weeds and stones. They are called Vorticellæ on account of the little vortices or whirlpools which they continually create in the water, by means of a fringe of very minute cilia placed round the brim of their cups. These cilia are so minute as to require a very high microscopic power to make them visible, and even then they are not easily detected, on account of their extremely rapid vibration, which never relaxes while the animal is in full vigour. Onthe other hand, when near death, their velocity diminishes, and ample opportunity is afforded for observing that the movements consist of a rapid bending inwards and outwards, over the edge of the cup. This is best seen in a side view. The action is repeated by each cilium in succession, with such rapidity and regularity that, when viewed from above, the fringe looks like the rim of a wheel in rapid revolution. A similar appearance, produced by the same cause, in another class of animalcula, of much more complex structure than the Vorticellæ, has procured for it the name ofRotifera, or wheel-bearers. The result of this combined movement of the cilia is, that a constant stream of water is drawn in towards the centre of the cup, and thrown off over the sides, when, having reached a short distance beyond the edge, it circles rapidly in a small vortex, curling downwards over the lips. These currents are rendered evident by floating particles in the water. The possession of these vibratile cilia is not peculiar to this class of animals; indeed, there is good reason to believe that there is scarcely a living creature, from the lowest animalcule, or plant germ, up to man himself, that is not provided with them in some part or other. In many of these Infusoria the cilia constitute the organs of locomotion; while in the higher forms they serve various other purposes, but chiefly that of directing the flow of the various internal fluids through their proper channels. But the peculiarand perhaps most wonderful organ of the Vorticella, is its stalk or mooring thread. This though generally of such extreme tenuity as to be almost invisible with ordinary microscopes, yet exhibits a remarkable degree of strength and muscular activity in its movements, which apparently are more voluntary than those of the cilia. Its action consists of a sudden contraction from a straight to a spiral form with the coils closely packed together, by which the head or bell is jerked down almost into contact with the foot of the stalk; after a few seconds the tension seems gradually relaxed, the coils are slowly unwound, and the stalk straightens itself out. This action takes place at irregular intervals, but it is seldom that more than a minute elapses between each contraction. It (the contraction) invariably happens when the animal is touched or alarmed, and is, consequently, very frequent when the water swarms with many other swimming animalcula. When it takes place the flower-bell generally closes up into a little round ball, which opens out again only when the stalk becomes fully extended. From this we might almost infer that some animalcule, or other morsel of food, had been seized and retained within the cup; moreover, that the contraction of the stalk assisted in securing or disposing of the prey. This, however, is uncertain.

The motions of the Vorticella do not seem much affected by the stalk losing hold of its attachment;but the result of such an accident taking place is that the cilia cause the animal to swim through the water, trailing its thread behind it, and the contraction of the latter merely causes it to be drawn up to the head.

There are various species of Vorticellæ. That just described is the simplest, consisting merely of a hemispherical ciliated cup, attached to a single thread. It is barely visible to the naked eye. But there is a compound species which I have this year found to be extremely abundant in my aquarium,—whose occupants, both large and small, it excels in singularity and beauty. In structure it is to the simple Vorticella what a many-branched zoophyte is to anActinia. My attention was first drawn to the presence of this creature by observing some pebbles and fronds of green ulva thickly coated with a fine flocculent down. On closer inspection this growth appeared to consist of a multitude of feathery plumes, about one-sixteenth of an inch in height, and individually of so fine and transparent a texture as to be scarcely discernible to the unassisted sight. On touching one with the point of a fine needle it would instantly shrink up into a small but dense mass, like a ball of white cotton—scarcely so large as a fine grain of sand. In a few seconds it would again unfold and spread itself out to its original size. By carefully detaching a specimen with the point of a needle or pen-knife, and transferringit, along with a drop of water upon a slip of glass, to the stage of the microscope, a sight was presented of great wonder and loveliness:—

'The more I fixed mine eye,Mine eye the more new wonders did espye!'

Let the reader imagine a tree with slender, gracefully curved, and tapering branches thickly studded over with delicate flower-bells in place of leaves. Let him suppose the bells to be shaped somewhat between those of the fox-glove and convolvolus, and the stem, branches, bells, and all, made of the purest crystal. Let him further conceive every component part of this singular structure to be tremulous with life-like motion, and he will have as correct an idea as words can give of the complex form of this minute inhabitant of the deep. Moreover, while gazing at it through the microscope, the observer is startled by the sudden collapse of the entire structure. The lovely tree has shrunk together into a dense ball, in which the branching stem lies completely hidden among the flower-bells—themselves closed up into little spherules, so closely packed together that the entire mass resembles a piece of herring-roe. This contraction is so instantaneous that the mode in which it is accomplished cannot be observed until the tree is again extended. As the re-extension takes place very slowly, we are enabled to observe that each branchlet has been coiled in a spiral form, like the thread of the simple Vorticella previouslydescribed; and also that the main stem, above the lowest branch, was coiled up in the same way, but not so closely, and that the part below the lowest branch had, curiously enough, remained straight. Sometimes, in large and numerously branched specimens, one or two of the lowest members do not contract at the same time with the rest, but do so immediately afterwards, as if they had been startled by the shrinking movements of their neighbours. Sometimes these lowest branches will contract alone, while all the others remain fully extended,—a fact that would almost seem to indicate that they possessed an independent life of their own.

In the accompanying engraving I have attempted faithfully to portray one of these wonderful creatures. Fig. 1 represents it fully extended, while Fig. 2 indicates its collapsed form. There is another curious circumstance which I have fortunately observed in connection with this Vorticella, a description of which will perhaps be interesting to the reader. I allude to the casting off of what may be called the fruit of the tree. When this event takes place, the buds (or fruit) dart about with such rapidity, that it is almost impossible to keep them in the field of view for the briefest space of time. A represents the enchanted fruit hanging on the tree; B shows it as it swims about.

Illustration showing Fig. 1. and Fig. 2.

Although not exactly fruit, it is, no doubt, the means by which the Vorticellæ are propagated, for itis known that many fixed zoophytes, and even some plants, produce free swimming germs or spores, which afterwards become fixed, and grow up into forms like those which produced them. In some of the branching zoophytes (Coryne,Sertularia, &c.), the germs are exactly like little medusae, being small, gelatinous cups fringed with tentacula, by means of which they twitch themselves along with surprising agility. In this Vorticella, however, it is more like one of theciliated Infusoria. The first one that I saw attached I conceived to be a remarkably large bell, with its mouth directed towards me, but the cilia with which it appeared to be fringed were unusually large and distinct. The movements of these appendages being comparatively slow, it was most interesting to watch them as they successively bent inwards and rose again, like the steady swell of a tidal wave, or an eccentric movement in some piece of machinery, making a revolution about twice in a second, and in the opposite direction to the hands of a clock. Suddenly the tree contracted, when, to my surprise, I observed the bell, which not an instant before appeared attached, now floating freely in the water, its ciliary movements not being in the least interrupted. Presently, however, they became brisker, the bell turned over on its side, and, ere the tree had again expanded, darted out of view, not, however, before I had remarked that it was not a bell, but a sphere flattened on one side, and having its circular ring of cilia on the flat side, with only a slight depression in the middle of it. There also appeared to be a small granular nucleus immediately above this depression, the rest of the body being perfectly transparent. I afterwards saw several others attached to the tree, each seated about the centre of a branch; but none of these were so fully developed. They were like little transparent button mushrooms, and had all more or less of a nucleus on the side by which theywere attached. On only one of these did I detect any cilia.

Mr. Gosse, in his 'Tenby,' gives a picture of an animal exceedingly like what I have described; but from his account of it, there seems to be some doubt of their identity. He calls it 'Zoothamnium spirale,' because the insertions of the branches were placed spirally around the main stem, like those of a fir-tree. In my specimens the branches were set alternately on opposite sides of the main trunk, and the whole was curved like a drooping fern leaf or an ostrich feather, the bells being mostly set on the convex side.

In conclusion, let me mention that it is an error to suppose, as many persons do, that putrid water alone contains life. Infusoria occur, as before hinted, in the clear waters of the ocean, in the water that we drink daily, and also in the limpid burn that flows through our valleys, or trickles like a silver thread down the mountain side.[1]

'Where the poolStands mantled o'er with green, invisible,Amid the floating verdure millions stray.Each liquid too, whether it pierces, soothes,Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste,With various forms abounds. Nor is the streamOf purest crystal, nor the lucid air,Though one transparent vacancy it seems,Void of their unseen people. These, concealedBy the kind art of forming Heaven, escapeThe grosser eye of man.'

Let it be remembered, too, that Infusoria, when found in either do not themselves constitute the impurity of fresh or salt water; they merely act as 'nature's invisible scavengers,' whose duty it is to remove all nuisances that may spring up; and most unceasingly do these tiny creatures labour in the performance of their all-important mission of usefulness.

'The living flower that, rooted to the rock,Late from the thinner element,Shrunk down within its purple stem to sleep,Now feels the water, and againAwakening, blossoms outAll its green anther-necks.'

ACTINIA

1 Sir J. G. Dalyell's celebrated ACTINIA (Drawn from Nature Jan. 1860.)2 A. CRASSICORNIS3 CAVE DWELLER (A. troglodytes)

Nomarine objects have become more universally popular of late years than Sea Anemones. Certainly none better deserve the attention which has been, and is daily bestowed upon them by thousands of amateur naturalists, who cannot but be delighted with the wondrous variety of form, and the beauteous colouring which these zoophytes possess.

A stranger could scarcely believe, on looking into an aquarium, that the lovely object before him, seated motionless at the base of the vessel, with tentacula expanded in all directions, was not a simple daisy newly plucked from the mountain side, or it may be a blooming marigold orAnemonefrom some rich parterre—instead of being, in reality, a living, moving, animal-flower.

One great advantage which theActiniæpossess over certain other inhabitants of the sea-shore, at least to the eye of the naturalist, is the facility with which specimens may be procured for observation and study. Scarcely any rock-pool near low watermark but will be found to encompass a certain number of these curious creatures, while some rocky excavations of moderate size will at times contain as many as fifty. Should the tide be far advanced, the young zoologist need not despair of success, for, by carefully examining the under part of the boulders totally uncovered by the sea, he will frequently find specimens of the smooth anemone, contracted and hanging listlessly from the surface of the stone, like masses of green, marone, or crimson jelly.

The Actiniæ, and especially examples of the above mentioned species, are extremely hardy and tenacious of life, as the following interesting narrative will prove.

The late Sir John Dalyell writing in 1851, says, 'I took a specimen ofA. mesembryanthemum(smooth anemone) in August 1828, at North Berwick, where the species is very abundant among the crevices of the rocks, and in the pools remaining still replenished after the recess of the tide. It was originally very fine, though not of the largest size, and I computed from comparison with those bred in my possession, that it must have been then at least seven years old.'

Through the kindness of Dr. M'Bain, R.N., the writer has been permitted to enjoy the extreme pleasure of inspecting the venerable zoophyte above alluded to, which cannot now be much under thirty-eight years of age!

In the studio of the above accomplished naturalist, 'Granny' (as she has been amusingly christened) still dwells, her wants being attended to with all that tenderness and care which her great age demands.

Sir J. Dalyell informs us that during a period of twenty years this creature produced no less than 344 young ones. But, strange to say, nearly the fortieth part of this large progeny consisted of monstrous animals, the monstrosity being rather by redundance than defect. One, for instance, was distinguished by two mouths of unequal dimensions in the same disc, environed by a profusion of tentacula. Each mouth fed independently of its fellow, and the whole system seemed to derive benefit from the repast of either. In three years this monster became a fine specimen, its numerous tentacula were disposed in four rows, whereas only three characterize the species, and the tubercles of vivid purple, regular and prominent, at that time amounted to twenty-eight.

From the foregoing statement we learn that this extraordinary animal produced about 300 young during a period of twenty years, but, 'wonder of wonders!' I have now to publish the still more surprising fact, that in the spring of the year 1857, after being unproductive for many years, it unexpectedly gave birth, during a single night, to no less than 240 living models of its illustrious self!

This circumstance excited the greatest surprise and pleasure in the mind of the late Professor Fleming, in whose possession this famous Actinia then was.

Up to this date (January 1860) there has been no fresh instance of fertility on the part of Granny, whose health, notwithstanding her great reproductive labours and advanced age, appears to be all that her warmest friends and admirers could desire. Nor does her digestive powers exhibit any signs of weakness or decay; on the contrary, that her appetite is still exquisitely keen, I had ample opportunity of judging. The half of a newly opened mussel being laid gently upon the outer row of tentacula, these organs were rapidly set in motion, and the devoted mollusc engulphed in the course of a few seconds.

The colour of this interesting pet is pale brown. Its size, when fully expanded, no larger than a half-crown piece. It is not allowed to suffer any annoyance by being placed in companionship with the usual occupants of an aquarium, but dwells alone in a small tank, the water of which is changed regularly once a week. This being the plan adopted by the original owner of Granny, is the one still followed by Dr. M'Bain, whose anxiety is too great to allow him to pursue any other course, for fear of accident thereby occurring to his protegée.

A portrait of Granny, drawn from nature, will be found on Plate 2.

A. troglodytes[2](cave-dweller) is a very common, but interesting object. The members of this species are especial favourites with the writer, from their great suitableness for the aquarium. They vary considerably in their appearance from each other. Some are red, violet, purple, or fawn colour; others exhibit a mixture of these tints, while not a few are almost entirely white. There are certain specimens which disclose tentacula, that in colour and character look, at a little distance, like a mass of eider-down spread out in a circular form. A better comparison, perhaps, presents itself in the smallest plumage of a bird beautifully stippled, and radiating from a centre. The centre is the mouth of the zoophyte, and is generally a light buff or yellow colour. From each corner, in certain specimens, there branches out a white horn that tapers to a very delicate point, and is oft times gracefully curled like an Ionic volute, or rather like the tendril of a vine.

In addition to the pair of horns alluded to, may sometimes be seen a series of light-coloured rays, occurring at regular intervals around the circumference of the deep tinted tentacula, and thereby producingto the eye of the beholder a most pleasing effect.

As a general rule, never attempt to capture an anemone unless it be fully expanded, before commencing operations. By this means you will be able to form a pretty accurate estimate of its appearance in the tanks. This condition of being seen necessitates, of course, its being covered with water, and, consequently, increases the difficulty of capturing your prize, especially when the creature happens to have taken up a position upon a combination of stone and solid rock, or in a crevice, or in a muddy pool, which when disturbed seems as if it would never come clear again.

It is, in consequence, advisable to search for those situated in shallow water, the bottom of which is covered with clean sand. When such a favourable spot is found, take hammer and chisel and commence operations. Several strokes may be given before any alarm is caused to the anemone, provided it be not actually touched. No sooner, however, does the creature feel a palpable vibration, and suspect the object of such disturbance, than, spurting up a stream of water, it infolds its blossom, and shrinks to its smallest possible compass. At same time apparently tightens its hold of the rock, and is, indeed, often enabled successfully to defy the utmost efforts to dislodge it.

After a little experience, the zoologist will be ableto guess whether he is likely to succeed in getting his prize perfect and entire; if not, let me beg of him not to persevere, but immediately try some other place, and hope for better fortune.

Although apparently sedentary creatures, the Actiniæ often prove themselves to be capable of moving about at will over any portion of their subaqueous domain. Having selected a particular spot, they will ofttimes remain stationary there many consecutive months. A smooth anemone that had been domesticated for a whole year in my aquarium thought fit to change its station and adopt a roving life, but at last 'settled down,' much to my surprise, upon a large mussel suspended from the surface of the glass. Across both valves of the mytilus the 'mess.' attached by its fleshy disc, remained seated for a considerable length of time. It was my opinion that the mussel would eventually be sacrificed. Such, however, was not the case, for on the zoophyte again starting off on a new journey, the mollusc showed no palpable signs of having suffered from the confinement to which it had so unceremoniously been subjected.

The appearance of this anemone situated several inches from the base of the vessel, branching out from such an unusual resting-place, and being swayed to and fro, as it frequently was, by the contact of a passing fish, afforded a most pleasing sight to my eye. Indeed, it was considered for a while one of the 'lions' of the tank, and often became an objectof admiration not only to my juvenile visitors, but also to many 'children of larger growth.'

There is a curious fact in connection with the Actiniæ which deserves to be chronicled here. I allude to the apparent instinct which they possess. This power I have seen exercised at various times. The following is a somewhat remarkable instance of the peculiarity in question.

In a small glass vase was deposited a choiceA. dianthus, about an inch in diameter. The water in the vessel was at least five inches in depth. Having several specimens of theAplysiæ, I placed one in companionship with the anemone, and was often amused to observe the former floating head downward upon the surface of the water. After a while it took up a position at the base of the vase, and remained there for nearly a week. Knowing the natural sluggishness of the animal, its passiveness did not cause me any anxiety. I was rather annoyed, however, at observing that the fluid was becoming somewhat opaque, and that the Dianthus remained entirely closed, and intended to find out the cause of the phenomena, but from some reason or other failed to carry out this laudable purpose at the time. After the lapse of a few days, on looking into the tank, I was delighted to perceive the lace-like tentacula of the actinia spread out on the surface of the water, which had become more muddy-looking than before.

I soon discovered that the impurity in questionarose from the Aplysia (whose presence in the tank I had forgotten) having died, and its body being allowed to remain in the vessel in a decaying state. The deceased animal on being removed emitted an effluvium so intolerably bad that it seemed like the concentrated essence of vile odours. The water, of course, must have been of the most deadly character, yet had this most delicate of sea-anemones existed in it for several consecutive days.

In order further to test how long my little captive would remain alive in its uncongenial habitation, I cruelly refused to grant any succour, but must own to having felt extremely gratified at perceiving, in the course of a few days, that instead of remaining with its body elongated to such an unusual extent, the Dianthus gradually advanced along the base, then up the side of the vessel, and finally located itself in a certain spot, from which it could gain easy access to the outer atmosphere.

After this second instance of intelligence (?) I speedily transferred my pet to a more healthy situation.

Having procured a small colony of Actiniæ, you need be under no anxiety about their diet, for they will exist for years without any further subsistence than is derived from the fluid in which they live. Yet strange as the statement will appear to many persons, the Actiniæ are generally branded with the character of being extremely greedy and voracious.'Nothing,' says Professor Jones, 'can escape their deadly touch. Every animated thing that comes in contact with them is instantly caught, retained, and mercilessly devoured. Neither strength nor size, nor the resistance of the victim, can daunt the ravenous captor. It will readily grasp an animal, which, if endowed with similar strength, advantage, and resolution, could certainly rend its body asunder. It will endeavour to gorge itself with thrice the quantity of food that its most capacious stomach is capable of receiving. Nothing is refused, provided it be of animal substance. All the varieties of the smaller fishes, the fiercest of the crustacea, the most active of the annelidans, and the soft tenants of shells among the mollusca, all fall a prey to the Actiniæ.'

This is a sweeping statement, and, although corroborated by Sir J. Dalyell and others, is one that requires to be received with a certain degree of caution. It most certainly does not apply toA. bellis,A. parisitica,A. dianthus,troglodytes, or any other members of this group; and to a very limited extent only is it applicable toA. coriaceaorA. mesembryanthemum.

As may readily be conceived, the writer could not keep monster specimens, such as are often found at the sea-shore; but surely if the statement were correct that,as a general rule, the actiniæ eat living crabs, the phenomenon would occasionally occur withmoderate-sized specimens, when kept in companionship with a mixed assembly of crustaceans. Yet in no single instance have I witnessed a small crab sacrificed to the gluttony of a small anemone.

With regard toA. mesembryanthemum,A. bellis, andA. dianthus, they get so accustomed to the presence of their crusty neighbours, as not to retract their expanded tentacula when a hermit crab, for instance, drags his lumbering mansion across, or a fiddler crab steps through the delicate rays, like a sky terrier prancing over a bed of tulips.

Thus much I have felt myself called upon to say in defence of certain species of Actiniæ; but with regard toA. crassicornis, I must candidly own the creature is greedy and voracious to an extreme degree.

Like many other writers, I have seen scores of this species of Actiniæ that contained the remains of crabs of large dimensions, but at one time considered that the latter were dead specimens, which had been drifted by the tide within reach of the Actiniæ, and afterwards consumed. That such, indeed, was the correct explanation in many instances I can scarcely doubt, from the disproportionate bigness of the crabs as compared with the anemones, but feel quite confident, that in other instances, the crustacea were alive when first caught by their voracious companions.

To test the power of the 'crass.,' I have frequentlychosen a specimen well situated for observation, and dropped a crab upon its tentacula. Instantly the intruding animal was grasped (perhaps merely by a claw), but in spite of its struggles to escape, was slowly drawn into the mouth of its captor, and eventually consumed. In one case, after the crab had been lost to view for the space of three minutes only, I drew it out of the Actinia, but although not quite dead, it evidently did not seem likely to survive for any length of time.

In collecting Actiniæ great care should be taken in detaching them from their position. If possible, it is far the better plan not to disturb them, but to transport them to the aquarium on the piece of rock or other substance to which they may happen to be affixed. This can in general be done by a smart blow of the chisel and hammer.

Should the attempt fail, an endeavour should be made to insinuate the finger nails under the base, and so detach each specimen uninjured. This operation is a delicate one, requiring practice, much patience, and no little skill. We are told by some authors that a slight rent is of no consequence, since the anemone is represented as having the power of darning it up. It may be so, but for my part I am inclined in other instances to consider the statement more facetious than truthful. In making this remark, I allude solely to the disc of the animal, an injury to which I have never seen repaired. On theother hand, it is well known that certain other parts may be destroyed with impunity. If the tentacula, for instance, be cut away, so great are the reproductive powers of the Actiniæ, that in a comparatively short space of time the mutilated members will begin to bud anew.

'If cut transversely through the middle, the lower portion of the body will after a time produce more tentacula, pretty near as they were before the operation, while the upper portion swallows food as if nothing had happened, permitting it indeed at first to come out at the opposite end; just as if a man's head being cut off would let out at the neck the bit taken in at the mouth, but which it soon learns to retain and digest in a proper manner.'

The smooth anemone being viviparous, as already hinted, it is no uncommon circumstance for the naturalist to find himself unexpectedly in possession of a large brood of infant zoophytes, which have been ejected from the mouth of the parent.

There is often an unpleasant-looking film surrounding the body of the Actiniæ. This 'film' is the skin of the animal, and is cast off very frequently. It should be brushed away by aid of a camel-hair pencil. Should any rejected food be attached to the lips, it may be removed by the same means. When in its native haunts this process is performed daily and hourly by the action of the waves. Such attention to the wants of his littlecaptives should not be grudgingly, but lovingly performed by the student. His labour frequently meets with ample reward, in the improved appearance which his specimens exhibit. Instead of looking sickly and weak, with mouth pouting, and tentacula withdrawn, each little pet elevates its body and gracefully spreads out its many rays, apparently for no other purpose than to please its master's eye.

A. mesembryanthemum(in colloquial parlance abbreviated to 'mess.'), is very common at the sea-shore. It is easily recognised by the row of blue torquoise-like beads, about the size of a large pin's head, that are situated around the base of the tentacula. This test is an unerring one, and can easily be put in practice by the assistance of a small piece of stick, with which to brush aside the overhanging rays.

A. crassicornisgrows to a very large size. Some specimens would, when expanded, cover the crown of a man's hat, while others are no larger than a 'bachelor's button.' Unless rarely marked, I do not now introduce the 'crass.' into my tanks, from a dislike, which I cannot conquer, to the strange peculiarity which members of this species possess, of turning themselves inside out, and going through a long series of inelegant contortions. Still, to the young zoologist, this habit will doubtless be interesting to witness. One author has named these large anemones 'quilled dahlias;' and the expression is sofelicitous, that if a stranger at the sea-side bear it in mind, he could hardly fail to identify the 'crass.,' were he to meet with a specimen in a rocky pool. Not the least remarkable feature in connection with these animal-flowers, is the extraordinary variety of colouring which various specimens display.

A. troglodytes, is seldom found larger than a florin. Its general size is that of a shilling. From the description previously given, the reader will be able to make the acquaintance of this anemone without any trouble whatever.

A. dianthus(Plumose anemone), is one of the most delicately beautiful of all the Actiniæ; it can, moreover, be very readily identified in its native haunts. Its colour is milky-white,—body, base, and tentacula, all present the same chaste hue. Specimens, however, are sometimes found lemon-coloured, and occasionally of a deep orange tint. Various are the forms which this zoophyte assumes, yet each one is graceful and elegant.

The most remarkable as well as the most common shape, according to my experience, is that of a lady's corset, such as may often be seen displayed in fashionable milliners' windows. Even to the slender waist, the interior filled with a mass of lace-work, the rib-like streaks, and the general contour, suggestive of the Hogarthian line of beauty, the likeness is sustained.

When entirely closed, this anemone, unlikemany others, is extremely flat, being scarcely more than a quarter of an inch in thickness; indeed, so extraordinary is the peculiarity to which I allude, that a novice would have great difficulty in believing that the object before him was possessed of expansive powers at all, whereas, in point of fact, it is even more highly gifted in this respect than any other species of Actiniæ.

'With a smart rattle, something fell from the bed to the floor; and disentanglingitself from the death drapery, displayed a large poundCrab.... Creel Katie madea dexterous snatch at a hind claw, and, before the Crab was at all aware, depositedhim in her patch-work apron, with a "Hech, sirs, what for are ye gaun to let gangsiccan a braw partane?"'—T. Hood

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