a OCEAN FLOWERS AND THEIR TEACHINGS. REAR PP Not the spoils of conquered s Ocean's Willing off*rings the From her treasure-house not riven, But of her abundance given. ‘Dypes of that exhanstless store, Mortal mind may ne‘er explore. AND THEIR TEACHINGS. BATH: BINNS AND GOODWIN. EDINBURGH : JOHNSTONE, LONDON : WHITTAKER AND CO. DUBLIN: W. CURRY JUN. & CO. - Tue title we have selected for our volume, will prepare the reader to look for other than scientific “teachings,” since, to speak with botanical precision, our work does not contain a single flowering plant—nor even are all the specimens ‘referable to the vegetable kingdom. But we shall, it is hoped, be readily pardoned for adopting, as the designation of a volume containing so large a proportion of poetry, a name not wholly unknown in song—one, too, so truly descriptive of these elegant productions. We have indeed been anxious that what little science our book contains, should be correct ; but our chief object has been, to give such interesting inform- ation as might tend to awaken curiosity, and excite to further enquiry ;—and above all, to associate with PREFACE. ¢ those beautiful and wonderful objects which clothe our rocks, such “teachings” as might deepen in the mind the feelings of devotion to their glorious Author. And since, as with flowers, so with these productions, | —their beauty and interest seem to increase by famili- arity with the grand and lovely scenery with which, in their natural state, they are surrounded, we have devoted a portion of our pages to Ocean itself, the magnificent home of these “children of the deep;” trespassing yet farther on the time of the reader, for the sake of giving some few passages on the advantages of the study of Nature. In these two divisions of our work, (and indeed best achieved, by selecting from the writings of as great a variety of approved authors, as the size of our volume would allow; and only hope our readers may feel some of that imterest as they proceed, which we, who have been united in the pleasant task of planning and " Ze : throughout,) we have thought our purpose would be | F 5 arranging the collection, have ourselves enjoyed—an } interest, ever increasing as we pursued the subject. “Wey oa) ee RY CHAPTER. WEET is the lore which Nature brings,” says a great poet of nature, Wordsworth ; and it is in the hope of enabling others to extract more and more of this sweetness, >' J mat “Nature’s Teachings. » \ee) The first and sweetest of these lessons we would ’ wish to be that embodied in the following question, which occurs in the tale of “Gertrude,” by the // Author of “Amy Herbert;” works whose many beauties \ only make us the more deeply regret that they should be tainted with the errors of a peculiar and too popular school. “Can you not fancy the infinite charm of being able to read the spirit of nature truly—of being so thoroughly religious, as never to look coldly on the meanest flower, because God made it; and really to feel that ‘His voice is in the thunder, and his glory in the seas?’ This is indeed precious ‘lore;’ and with a mind thus attuned, the glories of ocean, the crested billows, the ever-changing hues of that that we venture to unfold another volume of 2 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. majestic plain, the solemn, yet soothing cadence of its waves, the plants, the animals which find their home in the waters, the delicate sea-shell, the beautiful alga, the curious and elegant zoophyte, will be all felt and received as so many reflections of the glory of Him, who is infinite both in wisdom and love.” The advantages, as regards the arts and sciences, of a taste for the beauties of Nature, are thus ably pointed out by Percival.* —“ That sensibility to beauty, which, when culti- vated and improved, we term taste, is universally diffused through the human species; and it is most uniform with respect to those objects, which being out of our power, are not liable to variation, from accident, caprice, or fashion. The verdant lawn, the shady grove, the boundless ocean, and the starry firmament, are contemplated with pleasure by every attentive beholder. But the emotions of different spectators, though similar in kind, differ widely in degree: and to relish, with full delight, the enchanting scenes of nature, the mind must be uncorrupted by avarice, sensuality, or ambition; quick in her sensibilities; elevated in her sentiments ; and devout in her affections. He who possesses such exalted powers of perception and enjoyment, may almost say, with the poet— “¢T care not, Fortune, what you me deny, You cannot rob me of free nature’s grace : You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living streams at eve. Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave ; Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave !’ * Moral and Literary Dissertations. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER, 3 “Perhaps such ardent enthusiasm may not be compatible with the necessary toils and active offices, which Providence has assigned to the generality of men. But there are none to whom some portion of it may not prove advantageous ; and if it were cherished by each individual in that degree which is consistent with the indispensable duties of his station, the felicity of human life would be considerably augmented. From this source the refined and vivid pleasures of the imagination are almost entirely derived; and the elegant arts owe their choicest beauties to a taste for the contemplation of nature. Painting and sculpture are express imitations of visible objects: and where would be the charms of poetry, if divested of the imagery and embellishments which she borrows from rural scenes? Painters, statuaries, and poets, therefore, are always ambitious to acknowledge themselves the pupils of nature; and as their skill increases, they grow more and more delighted with every view of the animal and vegetable world, But the pleasure resulting from admiration, is transient; and to cultivate taste, without regard to its influence on the passions and affections, ‘is to rear a tree for its blossoms, which is capable of yielding the richest and most valuable fruit.’ Physical and moral beauty bear so intimate a relation to each other, that they may be considered as different gradations in the scale of excellence; and the knowledge and relish of the former, shouldbe deemed only a step to the nobler and more permanent enjoyments of the latter.” “ And there is happily,” as Jane Taylor remarks,* “this difference between natural, rational pleasures, and those that are artificial, and it is one by which they may readily be * Contributions of Q. Q. 4 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. distinguished ;—that from the former, the transition to religious thoughts and engagements is easy and agreeable. Whether we contemplate nature with the eye of taste, or investigate it with that of philosophy, our thoughts are readily led upwards, to the great Author of all, ‘all whose works praise Him; and it is at such times that the Christian can say with peculiar appropriateness— “This awful God is ours, Our Father and our Friend.’ “But from trifling thoughts and dissipating amusements, the transition is violent and difficult indeed; and is, in fact, very rarely attempted.” To write elaborate panegyrics on the beauties of nature might wellbe deemed a vain and useless expenditure of time, if not a folly akin to that which would “gild refined gold, or paint the lily, or add new perfume to the violet’s breath.” Popular taste has of late years undergone a marked change in favour of simplicity and reality ; and nature is at last recognized as the true model and standard of all that is really beauteous and admirable in the works of art. The effects of this change are clearly visible in our literature. Let any one take the popular poetry of the reigns of Anne and the first Georges, with its formal stilted descriptions of nature, thickly besprinkled with allusions to heathen mytho- logy, and compare it with the fresh and glowing pictures of Cowper, of Wordsworth, of Coleridge or Howitt, and he will be convinced that in the latter case the writers described what they had felt and enjoyed—in the former, what they had read or heard about. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 5 A taste for the picturesque in natural scenery, like a taste for music, is indeed much oftener professed than felt; but the very affectation of it proves that its value is appreciated. Many, however, who are enthusiastic in their admiration of nature in her grander features, are very far from compre- hending in their admiration her finer and minuter traits. They admire nature as a whole, they care not to individualize her charms; and hence they look coldly upon the study of natural history. But are they wise in so doing? We think not. There are few pursuits, which, when taken up in a right spirit and pursued within due bounds, are capable of afford- ing more true satisfaction to the understanding, or which tend more to calm that feverish longing after the ideal to which most minds are at times subject, than the study of natural history. It is the study of reality; and it has been well observed,* that “The study of natural history is within the reach of every one; and he who is engaged in it is presented at every step in his progress, with something capable of awakening pleas- ing emotions. The whole earth is to him a vast museum, in which are crowded beautiful and sublime objects, animate and inanimate, in an almost endless variety, all combining to amuse the understanding and gladden the heart. “This search into nature produces also a highly beneficial influence on the understanding. Mathematics do not more effectually strengthen and discipline the judgment. By acon- tinual analysis, comparison, and generalization of things, the study of natural history teaches the art of thinking clearly and accurately, and of reasoning with precision and force, with amuch less degree of weariness, than that which usually * “Naturalist’s Poetical Companion,” by a Fellow of the Linnean Society. ee eee 6 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. accompanies the study of simple quantities and mere abstract forms. An attention to natural objects also improves the taste. Nature is the admitted standard of perfection. The student who is closely examining the proportions of her inimitable forms, is taking the surest way to acquire a correct judg- ment of what is fit and elegant.” The opinion of Professor Henslow* so well follows up these ideas, that we cannot omit it. He says, “The old and bygone sneer of ‘cui bono,’ by which the naturalist was formerly taunted, now offers no serious impediment in the way of those who are willing to enquire for themselves. Even the few who still think that no advantage would result from the encouragement of natural history as a branch of general education, no longer attempt any very decided oppo- sition wherever they meet with others prepared to uphold it. Our pursuit has been so often and so satisfactorily shown to be productive of direct practical benefit to the general interests of society, that nothing further need here be said on that topic. But we would more especially recommend it as a resource which is capable of affording the highest intellectual enjoyment ; and as much worthy of general notice for mental recreation, as air and exercise are for our bodily health.” The somewhat contemptuous tone in which Dr, Johnson has spoken of the collectors of “stones, mosses, and shells,” has called forth the following reply, which we give the more readily for the sake of the “note” appended to it; and we think our readers will agree with us, that the sentiments therein expressed are more in accordance with the tastes, and I may say the convictions of the present day, than those of “The Doctor.” * Descriptive and Physiological Botany. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 7 “ And to have rambled in search of shells and flowers, had but ill suited with the capacity of Newton.’—RamB.er, No. 83. Nor so!—oh, not unworthy task Of mightiest mind, Humbly at Nature’s door to knock, and ask From out her treasured store Of hidden lore, The truth, her least and lowest holds enshrined. | Not stars alone, that high above, The world-quire lead, In mystic order marshal’d, brightly move ; But all things here below, In even flow, To one same heavenly air their mazy circles tread. One is their Maker,—One His name, And One His praise ! The key-note and the chord for aye the same, Whether yon glorious star, That shines afar, Or simplest weed of earth, the anthem raise. In evry truth, the lowest, dwells A gleam, a tone To watchful souls that of the loftiest tells ; As in thin films-the light Of rainbows bright— As in the whispering shell the voice of Ocean’s moan. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. What not thy Maker to create Unworthy found, Hold’st thou unworthy thee to contemplate ? This know—e’en shell and flower Are links of power, With thee in Being’s mighty chain close bound. We stand as wondering children stand By sea-beat shore, Gath’ring up Ocean’s treasures from the sand; Yet doth th’ exhaustless deep Tts fulness keep: Some scatter’d stores they glean—earth’s wisest do no more.* (M.S.) A. J. Vipat. Yet the Doctor himself, though no very zealous worshiper of nature, either in the whole or in detail, yields a kind of modified approbation to the study. He says: ‘Mankind must necessarily be diversified by various tastes, since life affords and requires such multiplicity of employments, and a nation of naturalists is neither to be hoped or desired ; but it is surely not improper to point out a fresh amusement to those who languish in health, and repine in plenty, for * “Science therefore, in relation to our faculties, still remains boundless and unexplored ; and after the lapse of a century and a-half from the era of Newton’s discoveries, during which every department of it has been cultivated with a zeal and energy which have assuredly met their full return, we remain in the situation in which he figured himself, standing on the shore of a wide ocean, from whose beach we have culled some of those innumerable beautiful productions, which it casts up with lavish prodigality, but whose acquisition can be regarded as no diminution of the treasures that remain.’”’—Srir Jonn Herscuext, ‘Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy.” INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 9 want of some source of diversion that may be less easily exhausted; and to inform the multitudes of both sexes, who are burdened with every new day, that there are many shows which they have not seen.” Chalmers, in his Bridgewater Treatise, has beautifully accounted for the too frequent tendency there is in our minds to disparage those pursuits with which we do not ourselv fully sympathize. We will first give a passage from the Rambler* in which this tendency is described :— “Between men of different studies and professions, may be observed a constant reciprocation of reproaches. The collector of shells and stones derides the folly of him who pastes leaves and flowers on paper, pleases himself with colors that are perceptibly fading, and amasses with care what cannot be preserved. The hunter of insects stands amazed that any man can waste his short time upon lifeless matter, while many tribes of animals yet want their history. Every one is inclined not only to promote his own study, but to exclude others from regard; and having heated his imagination with some favourite pursuit, wonders that the rest of the world are not seized with the same passion.” Now hear Chalmers’ account of this matter.—“It is the very perfection of the Divine workmanship which leads every inquirer into the wonders of nature, to imagine a surpassing worth and grace and dignity in his own special department of it. The fact is altogether notorious that in order to attain a high sense of the importance of any science, and of the worth and beauty of the objects which it embraces, nothing more is necessary than the intent and * Rambler, No. 83. % a ee ee ee 10 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. persevering study of them. Whatever the walk of philosophy may be on which a man may enter, that is the walk which of all others he conceives to be the most enriched by all that is fitted to entertain the intellect or arrest the admiration of the enamoured scholar. ‘The astronomer who can unravel | | the mechanism of the heavens, or the chemist who can trace the atomic processes of matter upon earth, or the meta- physician who can assign the laws of human thought, or the grammarian who can discriminate the niceties of language, or the naturalist who can classify the flowers and the birds and the shells, and the minerals and the insects, which so teem and multiply in this world of wonders, each of these respective | inquirers is apt to become the worshiper of his theme, and to look with a sort of indifference bordering on contempt towards what he imagines the far less interesting track of his fellow-labourers. Now each is right in the admiration he renders to the grace and grandeur of that field which himself has explored; but all are wrong in the distaste they feel, or rather in the disregard they cast on the other fields which they have never entered. We should take the testi- | mony of each, to the worth of that which he does know; and then the unavoidable inference is, that that must be indeed } a replete and a gorgeous universe in which we dwell, and : a still more glorious the Eternal Mind from whose conception it arose, and whose prolific fiat gave birth to it in all its | ; i vastness and variety.” | There is one aspect of the study of natural history, in our 2 view so important—namely, its adaptation as a pursuit to the invalid—that we gladly avail ourselves of a few remarks on the subject from the pen of a medical friend.— “None but the naturalist can fully appreciate the enjoy- INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 11 ment there is in his pursuit, or the tranquilizing effect it has upon the mind. “Tt is said that naturalists seldom become insane ; and perhaps there is something in the habitual contem- plation of the actual, and in the tracing of cause and effect, that restrains the mind from becoming unhinged by trains of false reasoning—and mental derangement is perverted reasoning. “It is true that individuals of lofty mind have sometimes looked with indifference and contempt on the labours of the naturalist, deeming him occupied with puerile and trifling objects ; but they forget that by a close observation of these apparent trifles, large additions have been made to the hap- piness of the human race. Many a treaty of peace, many a battle, has had little effect upon the general happiness of private individuals; but the discovery of a new plant, a new mineral, has relieved the suffering, or added to the comforts of thousands. ‘Thus, while the names of statesmen who have extended the territory of their nation, or of warriors who had ravaged the territories of others, are lauded to the skies, the discoverer of quinquinna, the cultivator of coffee, should not be forgotten. “But my present object is not so much to extol the study of natural history in a general point of view, as to impress upon my readers its desirableness as a pursuit, when health fails, and the common every-day engagements of life are broken inupon. Ido this both in my capacity as a physician, and from my experience as an invalid. In my professional capacity I have frequently been a witness to the miserable state of mind of those patients, who, having been actively engaged in the business of life, are suddenly laid aside from all their custo- mary employments, while they have no taste for any thing 12 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. else. The disease under which they may be labouring, often produces not a tenth part of the discomfort and unhap- piness consequent on the direful complaint of having nothing to do. * * * Reading often wearies head, eyes, and mind alike;—besides, it is perhaps necessary to be much in the open air, and how melancholy is it to ramble up and down without an object ! On such patients, I would urge the culti- vation of a taste for natural history, and just as much pursuit of it, as their circumstances will admit. * * Perhaps the invalid may have to resort for health to the sea-coast, and there abide for a considerable time. And here he will peculiarly need the solace of such pursuits as we are recom- mending. ‘The majestic grandeur of ocean will indeed strike him with wonder and admiration; he will love to wander along the sands, or sit upon the beach and listen to the murmur of the waves; to gaze on the crested billows rolling in, fierce and impetuous like an armed multitude in the storm of battle; but after a while, he will be tired of being a mere passive spectator, and will long for something to do. It is now especially, that if he have a taste for natural history, that taste will amply repay him. The sea is a vast magazine of partly unexplored wealth; and there are objects connected with it, which will open new fields of interest. Which of us, as a child, has not been gratified with those beautiful productions of the deep, the sea-shells, even though we used them merely as playthings? And when we apply our minds to consider them with more advanced knowledge, we shall see, not merely in the shell, but in the animal which is its inhabitant, abounding proofs of Divine wisdom and goodness. Why has the Creator been so lavish of elegance and beauty in the depths of ocean? How vain a question! INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 13 Is not our God a perfect being ?—and all his works must therefore be perfect. Beauty is but ideal; some objects may appear to our eyes more wonderful and beauteous than others; but not the faintest line that encompasses a shell or a flower, but has been designed by infinite wisdom. Look again at those tangled weeds thrown up by the waves, or covering the rocks at low water ; there are mines of interest to the dili- gent enquirer. “Well do I recollect the feelings of pleasure which pervaded my own mind, when I first began to examine these pro- ductions. I was then an invalid, and had had my fairest prospects in life blasted by disease; hope, as far as this life was concerned, scarcely lent me her solace; and I took up the sub- ject, merely to wile away the languor and ennui with which I was oppressed. I meant not to go far into the study, but merely to get acquainted with their characters and names. As I proceeded, great was my delight when I became ac- quainted with the distinctive character of the Zoophytes. And when I examined both them and the Algxw more minutely, and discovered the wonderful structure and economy of each kind, I can scarcely describe the thrill of wonder and admiration which I experienced. And whilst my mind was withdrawn from vain regrets, and raised in adoration to the God of merey, my frame was invigorated by the healthful sea-breezes. “As a fellow-sufferer then, no less than as a medical adviser, I can recommend the study of natural history to those—and in this world of sickness and sorrow, there are many—whose full vigour of mind or body has been impaired; and let no one think slightingly of any pursuit, which, not put in the place of the higher realities of religion, but used as an auxiliary 14 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. to them, has such capabilities of restoring tone to the mind and vigour to the body.” * The following remarks from an able and scientific pen,t may fitly conclude what we have to say on the study of Nature. “To those few well-informed persons who still from old prejudices accuse us, . of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up,’ we may say, that till the well of Creation be emptied, there is no danger of our returning from our labours without abundant food for thought; and if we do not always make the best use of it, the blame must rest with us, and not with natural history. * * * * It is enough for her if she but furnish food which is capable of nourishing the well-directed heart; it is not her province either to cleanse that heart, or to give it powers of digestion. For this she must refer her votary to a higher and holier voice ; and if she ever speak of looking ‘Through Nature up to Nature’s God,’ she does so with a humble deference to her elder sister, whose province it is to lead the heart to that contemplation. Science and religion must not be confounded :—each has her several path distinct, but not hostile; each in her way is friendly to man, and where both unite they will ever be found to be his best protectors; the one a light to the eyes, opening to him the mysteries of the material universe—the * J, Marchness, M. D., Hastings. (M.S.) +‘ Manual of the British Alge,’ by the Hon. W. H. Harvey. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 15 other a lamp to his feet, leading him to the immaterial, incorruptible and eternal. The eye, it is true, will grow dim when the light of this world fails; and happy is he who has then a lamp lighted from heaven, and trimmed on earth, to guide him through the hours of darkness. But the eye must not be blamed because it is not the lamp; nor should science be disdained because she leaves us far short of fresh conceptions of the invisible world. Her highest flight is but to the threshold of religion; for what a celebrated writer has said of philosophy generally, is equally applicable to every branch of scientific inquiry :—‘ In wonder all philoso- phy began, in wonder all ends, and admiration fills up the interspace. But the first wonder is the offspring of ignorance, and the last is the parent of adoration. The first is the birth-throe of our knowledge; the last, is its euthanasy and apotheosis.’ ” “What are Art and Science,” asks one of the authors of the 9 ““Guesses at Truth,” “if not a running commentary on Nature ? What are poets and philosophers, but torchbearers leading us through the mazes and recesses of God’s two mighty temples, the sensible and the spiritual world? Books, as Dryden has aptly termed them, are spectacles to read Nature. schylus and Aristotle, Shakspeare and Bacon, are the priests who preach and expound the mysteries of man and of the universe. They teach us to understand and feel what we see, to decipher and syllable the hieroglyphics of the senses. Do you not, since you have read Wordsworth, feel a fresher and more thoughtful delight whenever you hear a cuckoo, whenever you see a daisy, whenever you play with a child?” This is as true in fact as it is beautiful in expression ; and 16 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. our present attempt is to carry out this idea, to use these “spectacles,” and thus to administer materials for a “fresher and more thoughtful delight,” to those who now gaze with somewhat of undefined and bewildered feelings on the Sea and its Productions. It is an interesting employment to compare the various descriptions of different writers one with another, and to trace in the aspects under which they view the same object, the varied characteristics of their individual mind. The misanthropic spirit, “ aweary of the world,” and dissatisfied with its fellow-men, exults in the sea, as a thing independant of man’s control; whilst a happier and more social temper leads its possessor to rejoice in the exhilarating and health- giving influences of Ocean. There is scarcely any one natural object which we can select which has been the object of so much literary homage as the Sea, “the multitudinous sea,” “the always wind- obeying sea,” as that great voice of Nature, Shakspeare, with all but Greek facility and grace of epithet, has called it. Can the glorious lines of Byron addressed to this mag- nificent work of the Creator, ever be forgotten, whilst the English language lasts? Would that he had never written anything we less wish to remember ! “ Rout on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin; his control Stops with the shore—upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed—nor doth remain A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 17 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a graye, unknell’d, uncoffin’d, and unknown. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of Lord of thee and arbiter of war,— These are thy toys, and as the snowy flake They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the armada’s pride or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee. Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, where are they ? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves’ play— Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow— Such as Creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now.” With this address of Byron’s we may compare one Barry Cornwall in his “Marcian Colonna.” “On thou vast ocean! ever-sounding sea ! Thou symbol of a drear immensity ! Thou thing which windeth round the solid world Like a huge animal, which downward hurl’d From the black clouds, lies, weltering and alone, Lashing and writhing till its strength be gone ; 18 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Thy voice is like the thunder, and thy sleep So like a giant’s slumber, loud and deep. Thou speakest in the east and in the west At once; and on thy heavily-laden breast, Fleets come and go; and shapes that have no life Or motion yet are moved and meet in strife. The earth hath nought of this ; nor chance nor change Ruffles its surface, and no spirits dare Give answer to the tempest-waken’d air ; And o’er its wastes the weakly tenants range At will, and wound its bosom as they go. Eyer the same, it hath no ebb, no flow; But in their stated rounds the seasons come, And pass like visions to their viewless home, And come again and vanish: the young spring Looks ever bright with leaves and blossoming ; And winter always winds its sullen horn ; And the wild autumn, with a look forlorn, Dies in his stormy manhood ; and the skies Weep, and flowers sicken when the summer flies. Thou only, terrible ocean, hast a power, A will, a voice; and in thy wrathful hour, When thou dost lift thine anger to the clouds, A fearful and magnificent beauty shrouds Thy broad green forehead. If thy waves be driven Backwards and forwards by the shifting wind, How quickly dost thou thy great strength unbind, And stretch thine arms, and war at once with heaven! Thou trackless and unmeasurable main ! On thee no record ever lived, again Nh INTRODUCTORY CHARTER. 19 To meet the hand that writ it; live nor dead Hath ever fathom’d thy profoundest deeps, Where, haply, thy huge monster swells and sleeps, King of his watery limit, who, ’tis said, Can move the mighty ocean into storm. Oh! wonderful thou art, great element! And fearful in thy spleeny humours bent, And lovely in repose :—thy summer form Is beautiful ; and when thy silver waves Make music in earth’s dark and winding caves, T love to wander on thy pebbly beach, And hearken to the thoughts thy waters teach :— Eternity, Eternity and Power.” In the following beautiful lines of Bernard Barton, there is an idea similar to that of the closing line in Barry Corn- wall’s address—the idea of Eternity.— “BEAUTIFUL, sublime, and glorious ; Wild, majestic, foaming free ; Over time itself victorious, Image of eternity! Epithet-exhausting Ocean, ’T were as easy to control In the storm thy billowy motion, As thy wonders to unroll. “Sun, and moon, and stars shine o’er thee, See thy surface ebb and flow; Yet attempt not to explore thee In thy soundless depths below. 20 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Whether morning’s splendours steep thee With the rainbow’s glowing grace, Tempests rouse, or navies sweep thee, ’Tis but for a moment’s space. “Earth, —her valleys, and her mountains, Mortal man’s behests obey : Thy unfathomable fountains Scoff his search, and scorn his sway. Such art thou, stupendous Ocean !— But if overwhelm’d by thee, Can we think without emotion What must thy Creator be ?” Crabbe, whose early residence by the sea-coast gave him a life-long interest in maritime objects, has thus painted the sea in his own graphic manner :— “Tourn to the watery world !—but who to thee (A wonder yet unview’d) shall paint the sea? Various and vast, sublime in all its forms, When lull’d by zephyrs or when roused by storms ; Its colors changing, when from clouds and sun, Shades after shades upon the surface run ; Embrown’d and horrid now, and now serene In limpid blue, and evanescent green ; And oft the fogey banks on ocean lie, Lift the fair sail, and cheat the experienced eye.” Wordsworth is not by any means a poet of the sea; the mountain and the lake are his peculiar property; yet has he given a beautiful description of ocean’s waters in the follow- ing lines, written by the sea-shore in the Isle of Man. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. a1 ‘“Wuy stand we gazing on the sparkling brine, With wonder smit by its transparency, And all enraptured with its purity? Because the unstain’d, the clear, the crystalline, Have ever in them something of benign; Whether in gem, in water, or in sky, A sleepful infant’s brow, or wakeful eye Of a young maiden, only not divine. Scarcely the hand forbears to dip its palm For beverage drawn as from a mountain well ; Temptation centres in the liquid calm; Our daily raiment seems no obstacle To instantaneous plunging in deep sea, And reveling in long embrace with thee.”* Nor can we pass over unnoticed the exquisite lines of Campbell, written at St. Leonard’s, though their length forbids our giving them entire. “Hart to thy face and odours, glorious sea ! *T were thanklessness in me to bless thee not, Great beauteous being! in whose breath and smile My heart beats calmer, and my very mind Inhales salubrious thoughts. How welcomer Thy murmurs, than the murmurs of the world ! Though like the world thou fluctuatest, thy din To me is peace, thy restlessness repose. E’en gladly I exchange yon spring-green lanes, With all the darling field-flowers in their prime, * The sea-water on the coast of the Isle of Man is singularly pure and beautiful. 22 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. And gardens haunted by the nightingale’s Long trills and gushing ecstacies of song, For these wild headlands, and the seamen’s clang.— The spirit of the universe in thee Is visible ; thou hast in thee the life— The eternal, graceful, and majestic life Of nature; and the natural human heart Is therefore bound to thee with holy love. There is a magnet-like attraction in These waters to the imaginative power, That links the viewless with the visible, And pictures things unseen. To realms beyond Yon highway of the world my fancy flies, When by her tall and triple masts we know Some noble voyager, that has to woo The trade-winds and to stem the eliptic surge. The coral groves—the shores of conch and pearl, Where she will cast her anchor, and reflect Her cabin-window lights on warmer waves, And under planets brighter than our own: The nights of palmy isles, that she will see Lit boundless by the fire-fly—all the smells Of tropic fruits that will regale her—all The pomp of nature, and the inspiriting Varieties of life she has to greet, Come swarming o’er the meditative mind. Old Ocean"was, Infinity of ages ere we breathed Existence.—And he will be beautiful INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 23 When all the living world that sees him now Shall roll unconscious dust around the sun. Quelling from age to age the vital throb In human hearts, Death shall not subjugate The pulse that swells in Ais stupendous breast, Or interdict his minstrelsy to sound In thundering concert with the quiring winds ; But long as man to parent Nature owns Instinctive homage, and in times beyond The power of thought to reach, bard after bard Shall sing thy glory, beatific Sea.” The “attraction to the imaginative power” attributed by Campbell to the sea, appears to have been felt by many writers—by Montgomery, for instance, in the following lines from his Address to the Ocean, written at Scarborough. “Att hail to the ruins, the rocks, and the shores ! Thou wide-rolling Ocean, all hail! Now brilliant with sunbeams, and dimpled with oars, Now dark with the fresh-blowing gale, While soft o’er thy bosom the cloud-shadows sail, And the silver-wing’d sea-fowl on high Like meteors bespangle the sky, Or dive in the gulph, or triumphantly ride, Like foam on the surges, the swans of the tide. From the tumult and smoke of the city set free, With eager and awful delight, From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee ; I gaze,—and am changed at the sight; an teeemeennin a j 24 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. For mine eye is illumined, my genius takes flight, My soul, like the sun, with a glance Embraces the boundless expanse, And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, From the day-darting zone to the night-shadow’d pole.” In Miss Edgeworth’s clever tale, “Ennui,” she represents her hero, Lord Glenthorn (the victim of ennui), as finding his chief recreation in sitting by the sea-shore. “Tt was my regular practice to sit down upon a certain large stone, at the foot of a rock, to watch the ebbing of the tide. There was something in the contemplation of the sea and of the tides, which was fascinating to my mind. I could sit and look at the ocean whole hours together; for without any exertion of my own, I beheld a grand operation of nature, accompanied with a sort of vast monotony of motion and sound, which lulled me into reverie.” Such reveries indeed may become both delightful and profitable, as the following lines well indicate :— “Tr ever to mortals sensations are given As pledges of purer ones hoped for in heaven, They are those which arise, when, with humble devotion, We gaze upon thee, thou magnificent Ocean.” BERNARD Barton. “ Ow! how I love to stand on some high rock, And gaze upon the foaming wild abyss Of ocean—all unshaken by the shock . Of billows beating ’gainst the precipice; To gaze upon the whizl, and hear the hiss Of thousand surges bursting at its base. To me there is a horrid charm in this— INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. bo Or A charm to see the white foam run its race, And as one wave dissolves, another take its place. Thou hast thy creatures too, a populous world Of uncouth beings—monsters of the deep, That are born there and die: thy billows curl’d, Mount over caverns where the white pearls sleep, And, hid within thy depths, the seaweeds creep, And grow beneath the surf that widely raves, Unmindful of the storms that o’er them leap, And the rude winds that lash the dreadful waves, Until, like beaten hounds, they howling seek thy caves. Farewell, vast Ocean !—beautiful art thou In calm and tempest.—Now calm reigns o’er thee, Serene and quiet is thy glossy brow, Thou glorious mirror of the Deity ! And how sublimely grand art thou, when He, In foaming characters, upon thy face Writes His almighty anger! Thou, proud sea! Art the wide page—the chosen tablet-place, On which he chooses his tremendous wrath to trace. O Ocean? it is o’er thy trackless way He shows himself most mighty :—there he wields The sceptre that the winds and waves obey :— He rides in storms above thy watery fields. E 26 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Thou seemest most his own; to man he yields Part of the rule o’er earth,—but over thee He shows his anger :—and his mercy shields The seaman over many a stormy sea,— And there sweeps many a one into eternity. “T am not young—my life has past its prime— Perhaps I ne’er again shall tread this shore. Life is a billow on the sea of time That, once burst, rises never more. Perchance mine soon may melt amid the roar Of tempests rising on that boundless sea: There will my grief and sorrow all give o’er,— There shall life’s joy or misery cease to be, And I shall be resolved in vast eternity.” * The influence of the ocean on the character of those who frequent its paths, is alluded to in the following lines :— “Haw, glorious Ocean! in thy calm repose Majestic like a king. The emerald isles Sleep on thy breast, as tho’ with matron care Thou in a robe of light didst cradle them, Hushing the gales that might disturb their rest. Those chasten’d waves that in rotation throng To kiss their chain of sand, methinks they seem Like pensive teachers, or like eloquent types Of the brief tenure of terrestrial joy. Tho’, roused to sudden anger, thou dost change Thy countenance, and arm’d with terror, toss Man’s floating castles to the fiery skies ; * Miss M. A. Browne. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER, bo ~I Yet still thou art his friend. Thy magic spell Looseneth the tie of kindred, lures his feet From earth’s green pastures to the slippery shrouds, Weans his bold spirit from the parent hearth, Till by the rough and perilous baptism bronzed, Thou art his priest, his home.”* Amongst the subjects of meditation which may occupy our minds at. such times, the following interesting remarks of that great Christian philosopher, Arnold, may well find a place. In the Appendix to his edition of Thucydides he thus speaks of the utility of the sea. “ The boundless and unmanageable mass of earth presented by the continents of Asia and Africa, has caused those parts of the world, which started the earliest in the race of civili- zation, to remain almost at the point from whence they set out; while Europe and America, penetrated by so many seas, and communicated with by so many rivers, have been subdued to the uses of civilization, and have ministered with an ever-growing power to their children’s greatness. Well indeed might the policy of the old priest-nobles of Egypt and India, endeavour to divert their people from becoming familiar with the sea, and represent the occupation of a seaman as incompatible with the purity of the highest castes. * * * he sea deserved to be hated by the old aristocracies, inasmuch as it has been the mightiest instru- ment in the civilization of mankind. In the depth of winter, when the sky is covered with clouds, and the land presents one cold, blank, and lifeless surface of snow, how refreshing * Sigourney. 28 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. is it to the spirit, to walk upon the shore, and to enjoy the eternal freshness and liveliness of the ocean! Even so in the deepest winter of the human race, when the earth was but one chilling expanse of inactivity, life was stirring in the waters. There began that spirit whose genial influence has now reached to the land, has broken the chains of winter, and covered the face of the earth with beauty.” Sentiments worthy of him whose whole soul was centred in the moral and religious progress of his species. The enthusiastic attachment of a Greek to the element which washes his native shores, is touchingly embodied in Mrs. Hemans’ beautiful little song of a Greek Islander in exile. “WHERE is the Sea ?—I languish here— Where is my own blue sea, With all its barks in fleet career, Its flags and breezes free ? I miss that voice of waves which first Awoke my childhood’s glee ; The measured chime, the thundering burst— Where is my own blue sea? “Qh! rich your myrtle’s breath may rise, Soft, soft your wind may be, But my sick soul within me dies— Where is my own blue sea? I hear the shepherd’s mountain flute, I hear the whispering tree ; The echoes of my soul are mute— Where is my own blue sea ?” INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER, 29 Those lines “'The measured chime, the thundering burst,” often recur to us as vividly descriptive. ‘“ The harmonious chime” of the waves, is again mentioned in the following sweet lines of the poet of “The Christian Year :”— *“ WHEN up some woodland dale we catch The many twinkling smile of Ocean, Or with pleased ear bewilder’d. watch His chime of restless motion ; Still as the surging waves retire, They seem to gasp with strong desire ; Such signs of love old Ocean gives, We cannot choose but think he lives.” The pious and gifted Mary Jane Graham has expressions somewhat similar, in a beautiful passage in her “ Letters to a young Piano-Forte Player.” “Who can sit by the sea-side when every wave lies hushed in adoration, or falls upon the shore in subdued and awful cadence, without drinking in unutterable thoughts of the majesty of God? The loud hosannas of ocean in the storm, and the praises of God on the whirlwind, awaken us to the same lesson ; and every peal of thunder is an hallelujah to the Lord of Hosts. Oh! there is a harmony in nature! The voice of every creature tells us of the glory of God!” Cold indeed must be the heart, which, looking on “this great and wide sea also, wherein are things creeping innu- merable, both small and great beasts; where go the ships, and where is that leviathan which he hath made to play therein,” withholds from the infinitely wise and good God 30 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. the glory of his works, and refrains to ery out, “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all!” “Wuat ebbs, flows, swells and sinks, who firm doth keep? Whilst floods from th’ earth burst in abundance out, As she her brood did wash, or for them weepe : Who (having life), what dead things prove, dare doubt ? Who first did found the dungeons of the deepe, But one in all, ere all, above, about ? The flouds for our delight first calme were set, But storme and roare since men did God forget. “ Who parts the swelling spouts that sift the raine ? Who reines the winds, the waters doth empale ? Who frownes in stormes, then smiles in calmes againe, And dothe dispense the treasures of the haile ? Whose bow doth bended in the clouds remaine ? Whose darts (dread thunderbolts) make men look pale ? Even thus these things to show his power aspire, As shadows doe the sunne,—as smoke doth fire. “God visible, invisible who raignes, Soule of all soules, whose light each light directs, All first did freely make, and still maintaines ; The greatest rules, the meanest not neglects ; Fore-knowes the end of all that he ordaines, His will each cause, each cause breeds fit effects ; Who did make all, all thus could onely leade, None could make all, but who was never made.”* * Alexander, Earl of Stirling, 1600. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 31 There is in this poem a beautiful intimation of one aspect of the sea,—that of terror, which may be the one chiefly intended in the Scripture, when it is promised as an ingre- dient in heavenly happiness, that there shall be “no more sea.” It has been said, he who has never seen a storm at sea, has never learned to pray. Happy they who in such an hour can feel with Richard Howitt— “Upon the ocean God is near— The wing of the most High, In calm and storm, a gracious form Broods over sea and sky. His love is breathed in every wind, His voice in every wave ; His life, his light, in the stormy night Of ocean’s billowy grave. ‘** His bow of promise we behold, As gorgeously array’d As when, amid a world destroy’d, Twas first to man display’d. His gentlest creatures, dove-like birds, Rest on our wandering barque ; They seek our vessel, as the dove The life-preserving ark. “The banner of his love, the sun, Shines on us day by day ; His presence nightly in the moon Illumes our watery way. 32 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. We cannot go where God is not In goodness ever nigh ; Thus when we sleep upon the deep, We move before his eye.” Other thoughts will also be suggested in such hours, perhaps such as the following.* “ Hz who has laid him down at close of day, Within some goodly ship that o’er the waves Of ocean makes her solitary way, And from his pillow hears the tide that laves Incessantly the vessel’s side, may tell How slight betwixt him and the billows’ swell Appears the timber barrier, that rejects The beating surge, and from its might protects. * There is another ocean :—’tis around The soul’s frail bark that floats upon the tide. But vainly do we listen :—not a sound Comes from the depths profound as on we glide ; By day, by night, for ever all is still, As the fair moon above the lonely hill; The viewless angels silent pass us by, Nor stir the ocean of eternity. “What marvels else would wake us! Oh! how slight All that divides from wondrous things would seem ! How frailer than the plank which in the night Is wash’d by ocean where the seamen dream ! * From “Songs of the Parsonage.” INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. oe w Yea, than the shell circling the tender bird Where all around with vernal life is stirr’d. Fear passing thought might thrill us, and amaze, Lest the vast world conceal’d should burst upon our gaze. “Yet it will burst ere long :—a scene untold And unconceived, will open on our view. These slender frames will fail us—and behold, The God that form’d them; with a retinue Of holy seraphim, and holy men, In form resplendent as the Saviour, when Upon the mount, from out the o’ershadowing cloud, “ This is my Son beloved,” a voice proclaim’d aloud ! There is a line in Barry Cornwall’s well-known song of ¥ ” “The Sea,”— * And silence wheresoe’er I go,’’ . . al which one is at a loss to understand. It may, however, receive some illustration from the following remark made by Mr. Monk Mason, in his narrative of his wronautic trip in the year 1836 :— “The sea, unless perhaps under circumstances of the most extraordinary agitation, does not in itself appear to be the parent of the slightest sound: unopposed by any material obstacle, an awful stillness seems to reign over its motions.” Yet the sounds of the sea have been often celebrated—never perhaps more beautifully, than in the following exquisite lines, from Taylor’s “ Edwin the Fair:”"—Leolf is pacing the sea-shore near his castle at Hastings:— 84 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. * Here again I stand; Again, and on the solitary shore Old ocean plays as on an instrument, Making that ancient music when not known ? That ancient music, only not so old As He, who parted ocean from dry land, And saw that it was good.” They are dwelt upon also in the second stanza of the follow- ing poem by Brainard :-— “'THERE’s beauty in the deep :-— The wave is bluer than the sky ; And though the light shines bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow, That sparkle in the depths below. The rainbow’s tints are only made When on the waters they are laid, And sun and moon most sweetly shine Upon the ocean’s level brine. There’s beauty in the deep. There’s music in the deep:— It is not in the surf’s rough roar, Nor in the whispering shelly shore ; They are but earthly sounds, that tell How little of the sea-nymph’s shell, That sends its loud clear note abroad, Or winds its softness through the flood, Echoes through groves with corals gay, And dies on spongy banks away. There’s music in the deep. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER, 35 There’s quiet in the deep :— Above let tides and tempests rave, And earthborn whirlwinds wake the wave ; Above let care and fear contend With sin and sorrow to the end: Here, far beneath the tainted foam, That frets above our peaceful home, We dream in joy, and wake in love, Nor know the rage that yells above. There’s quiet in the deep.” The sounds of the sea—those murmurs so much “welcomer,” as Campbell thinks, than the murmurs of the world—have a powerful influence over the mind; an influence indeed varied in kind, and alternating with different states of feeling— different states also of the ocean itself. “THe tones of the majestic sea Have meanings too sublime for me, When billows lift their voice on high, And clouds are thundering their reply. I love to hear its soften’d tones, Its hush’d complaints, its under moans, When waves subsiding, sink to rest— And sunbeams sleep upon its breast.””* “The works of man inherit, as ’tis just, Their maker’s frailty, and return to dust ;”’ But in the works of God, even the works which relate to this changing and material world, destined one day to be “as a vesture to be folded up,” there is yet a character of permanence, * (M.S,) Ellen Roberts. 36 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. a faint reflection of the changeless glories of their Maker. As Lord Byron beautifully says, in a passage already quoted, ee5 “Time writes no wrinkle on thy azure brow,” nor does “‘it take a tone from its majestic voice.” “ Tuou art sounding on, thou mighty sea, For ever; and the same The ancient rocks yet_ring to thee, Whose thunder nought can tame. “Oh! many a glorious voice is gone From the rich bowers of earth, And hush’d is many a lovely tone Of mournfulness or mirth. The Dorian flute that sigh’d of yore Along that wave is still; The harp of Judah peals no more On Zion’s awful hill. ** And Memnon’s lyre hath lost the chord That breathed the mystic tone; And the songs at Rome’s high triumphs pour’d Are with her eagles flown; And mute the Moorish horn, that rang O’er stream and mountain free ; And the hymn the leagued crusaders sang, Hath died in Galilee. “ But thou art swelling on, thou deep, Through many an olden clime Thy billowy anthem, ne’er to sleep Until the close of time. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 37 Thou liftest up thy solemn voice, To eyery wind and sky, And all our earth’s green shores rejoice | In that one harmony. “Tt fills the noontide’s calm profound, | The sunset’s heaven of gold ; And the still midnight hears the sound, Ev’n.as when first it roll’d. Let there be silence, deep and strange, Where sceptred cities rose ! Thou speak’st of one who doth not change— So may our hearts repose.”* Campbell has called the ocean “beatific sea.” Pollok has bestowed upon it epithets even more expressive of admiration: “ Great Ocean! strongest of creation’s sons, Unconquerable, unreposed, untired, That roll’d the wild, profound, eternal bass In nature’s anthem, and made music such As pleased the ear of God! Original, Unmarr’d, unfaded work of Deity, And unburlesqued by mortal’s puny skill, From age to age enduring and unchanged, Majestical, inimitable, vast; Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each Succeeding race, and little pompous work Of Man! Unfallen, religious, holy sea, Thou bow'd’st thy glorious head to none, Heard’st none, to none didst honour but to God. * Mrs. Hemans. 38 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Thy Maker only worthy to receive Thy great obeisance! Undiscover’d sea, Into thy dark unknown mysterious caves, And secret haunts, unfathomable deep, Beneath all visible retired, none went, And came again to tell the wonders there.” * We may perhaps fitly close our collection of “sea pieces,” with the following lines, which, irregular as they are, con- tain a thought we would wish to leave with our readers, and tell of a blessing we earnestly desire they may share. “ WERE it not joy, upon the wild waves straying, Careless and fearless, still to float at ease ? Now with their angry crests, storm-whiten’'d, playing; Now sweetly slumbering on the sunny seas; Now with like grace, their graceful swell obeying, Like some gay creature of the element, Never thy course, thy might, thy danger weighing, But in their arms reposing, well content ; No thought, no wish, thyself thy way to measure, But trusting all to them, in calm deep trance of pleasure. “Were it not joy—the joy of conflict glorious !— Still to do battle with the raging tide, Tasking thy strength, but evermore victorious, Undaunted by the billows of its pride ; Breasting them boldly, all their terrors braving, Conscious of pow’r, increasing still as tried— * Pollok’s “Course of Time.” INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. For them no jot of thy firm purpose waiving, But pressing on thro’ all—and steady-eyed, Far off, but clear, thy noble mark descrying, In faith and hope to strive, their utmost force defying— “ Yea, both are joys—high joys, and spirit-thrilling !— To thee but vain fond fancies do they seem? Yet both are thine, if only thou art willing ! ’Tis thine to battle with the world’s rough stream, Dauntless in heavenly might thy task fulfilling.— ’Tis thine, serene as infant in his dream, How toss’d soe’er upon those waters chilling, Sublime to float, nor aught of danger deem !— Blest he, whose soul securely still reposes In Love’s eternal Ark, till life’s wild voyage closes! "* * (M.S.) A. J. Vidal. SHEA-WEED PART 1. Oh! call us not weeds, but flowers of the sea, For lovely, and gay, and bright-tinted are we ! Our blush is as deep as the rose of thy bowers,— Then call us not weeds, we are Ocean’s gay flowers. Not nursed like the plants of the summer parterre, Whose gales are but sighs of an evening air, Our exquisite, fragile and delicate forms, Are the prey of the Ocean, when yex’d with his storms. SEA-WEEDS. | “THE least proclaims, and loudly too, | The forming finger of a God.” Tar our readers may become better acquainted with some of the more interesting and beautiful of these “ Ocean Flowers,” the following pages will be devoted to real specimens of the plants, with such information as may be acceptable to the general reader; but no attempt at a scientific arrangement will be made, the intention of the work being | rather to awaken in the mind a desire to know more of beautiful objects capable of teaching so much. “ How sweet to muse upon the skill display’d, Infinite skill, in all that he has made! To see, in nature’s most minute design, The signature and stamp of power Divine.” Cowrer. 44 OCEAN FLOWERS We will commence with a short description of the general character of sea-weeds; further information will be dis- covered in succeeding pages, interspersed with such poetry and reflections as harmonize with the subject. ALG# is a name assigned by botanists to a large group or natural class of Cryptogamiz, or flowerless plants, which form the principal or characteristic vegetation of the waters. The sea in no climate, from the poles to the equator, is altogether free from them, though they abound on some shores much more than on others. Thus extensively scattered through all climates, and existing under so many varieties of situation, the species are, as one would naturally suppose, exceedingly numerous; and present a greater variety in form and size, than is observable in any other tribe of plants whose structure is so similar. Some are so exceedingly minute, as to be wholly invisible (except in masses) to the naked eye, and require the highest powers of our microscopes to ascertain their form or structure. Others, growing in the depths of the great Pacific Ocean, have stems which exceed in length the trunks of the tallest forest-trees, and others have leaves that rival in expansion those of the palm. Some are simple globules or spheres, consisting of a single cellule, or little bag of tissue filled with a colouring matter; some are mere strings of such cellules cohering by the ends; others, a little more AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 45 perfect, exhibit the appearance of branched threads; in others again the branches and stems are compound, consisting of several such threads joined together; and in others the tissue expands into broad flat fronds. Hon. W. H. Harvey’s “Manvat or THE BritisH ALGR.” Arter having been kept dry for a great length of time, they will revive by immersion in water ; but only that portion of the plant which is immersed imbibes ‘the fluid. The seeds, or sporules, consist of minute granules, internal, clustered, or scattered, or imbedded in tubercles or peculiar . processes arising from the frond. Often two or three different kinds, or rather forms, of fructification exist in the same species; but each apparently in itself is capable of becoming a new plant. There is nothing that can be compared to the stamens in phenogamous plants. Low as this order of plants is in the scale of vegetable beings, it is yet the one which approaches the nearest to certain animals. Indeed, the ablest naturalists have been unable to draw the line of distinction between the least perfect of these, and the less highly organized of animals. Sir W. Hooker’s “Britisu Fora.’ OCEAN FLOWERS SERRATED FUCUS., Turs contains far less salt than the Bladdered Fucus, and is consequently much less estemed for kelp. In Norway it is the food of cattle, sprinkled with a little meal, according to Gunner. The Dutch cover their crabs and lobsters with it, and say that it is preferable to the Bladdered Fucus be- cause the mucus from the vesicles of the latter, ferments and soon becomes putrid. Sir W. Hooker. Tus Fucus is employed as manure, and with much benefit, though its value endures but for a single season. It is found peculiarly well adapted to potatoe culture; and when spread on the ground in winter, yields an abundant crop of the very best hay. But if its application be deferred till the time of planting, the former produce, though equally abundant, is watery, ill-tasted and unfit for the table, though it answers well enough for seed. This remark equally applies to all the Alge, which, under the general name of cart-wracks, are rolled ashore by the gales. Captain CARMICHAEL. In ancient times, when a person wished to express utter contempt of a thing, seemingly unfit for any purpose, he AID THEIR TEACHINGS, 47 would say, “as worthless as sea-weed.” (Alga projecta vilior.) Before we presume to join in this very harsh opinion, we ought to descend to the bottom of the ocean, and wander through the groves and meadows of the submarine world, to watch the habits, food, and growth of the countless in- habitants of the dee; and then perhaps we might form a conclusion more in a@cordance with the great truth, that the all-wise Creator has made nothing in vain. But this being impossible, we mustrest content with merely inferring from analogy, that the depths of the sea may possibly produce weeds to be the foot of marine animals, as the face of the earth brings forth gieen herbs to be the food of land animals. But the Roman poe, who uses the expression given above, alluded probably to ‘he uselessness of these alge to man. Yonder countrymen, with their mules and panniers, are seemingly of a very different opinion. ‘They have been at the pains of cutting a winding path along the face of the rocky cliff, solely fo: the purpose of carrying off the great heaps of sea-weed, ‘ast on shore whenever a storm occurs. You will ask of couse, “To what use do they apply it after they have devoted sc much time and trouble to its removal?” It is deposited in laige heaps on the arable lands, where it is suffered to remain until decomposition has taken place, and at the proper seasoi is spread on the ground, and forms a valuable manure. C. A. Jonns’ “BoranrcaL RAMBLES.” OCEAN FLOWERS BLADDERED FUCUS., Tuts seaweed is abundantly employed in the manufacture of kelp, if it be not the very best for that purpose. But this, important as it is in a commercial point of view, is not the only end it serves. In the isles of Jura and Skye it is frequently a winter food for cattle, which regularly come down to the shores at the receding of the tide, to seek for it ; and sometimes even the deer have been known to descend from the mountains to the seaside and feed upon this plant. Linneus informs us that the inhabitants of Gothland in Sweden, boil this Fucus with water, and mixing with it a little coarse meal, or flour, feed their hogs upon it; for which reason, they call the plant Swintang: and in Scania he says, the poor people cover their cottages with it, and use it for fuel. In Jura, and some other Hebrides, the inhabit- ants dry their cheeses without salt, by covering them with the ashes of this plant; which abounds so much in that substance, that from five ounces of the ashes, may be procured two ounces and a-half of fixed alkaline salts, or half their own weight. Str W. Hooker. ANOTHER and yet more important application of this “worthless alga,” is to the manufacture of kelp, a substance extensively used in glass-making and soap-boiling. Kelp is an impure carbonate of soda, and is procured from the ashes AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 49 of various kinds of sea-weed. “The plants are cut from the rocks, or collected from the rejectamenta of the sea, and dried in the open air. An excavation, like a grave, is made in the ground, and lined with large stones; and in this, which is named a kelp-kiln, the dried weeds are burned. The melted alkali, mixed with many impurities, accumulates in the bottom of the kiln; and when cold, forms a hard, bluish mass, which is named kelp, and is a substance of great importance in bleaching, and, as before stated, in the manufacture of soap and glass. Almost the entire rent of the island of Rathlin, on the northern coast of Ireland, is thus paid from the produce of its seaweeds; and from this source alone, the rents of one Highland chief have, of late years, it is said, increased two thousand pounds per annum. C. A. Jouns’ BorantcaL RAMBLEs. SEAWEEDS expand with amazing rapidity. Mr. Ste- phenson, the Scottish engineer, found that a rock, uncovered only at spring-tides, which had been chiselled smooth in November, was thickly clothed on the following May with fucoids from two to six feet in length, notwithstanding the winter had been unusually severe. Many species, as the dis- jointed alge, have a fissiparous reproduction; that is, separate into numerous fragments, each of which, though having a common origin, has an individual life, and is capable in turn of increasing its kind. CuamsBers’ EpinsuRGH JOURNAL. OCEAN FLOWERS PALMATED RHODOMENIA, OR DULSE. Tus plant grows from four to six inches or a foot high, and is of a livid purplish color. This is the Saccarine Fucus, or Sol of the Icelanders, the efflorescence of which has a sweetish and not disagreeable taste. It is dried by the natives, packed down in casks, and used as occasion re- quires, frequently cooked with butter. Sir W. Hooker. Catuep by Highlanders, duillisg (leaf of the water).—The Scotch and Irish wash the plant in fresh water, dry it in the sun, rollit up, and chew it like tobacco; but it is usually eaten fresh from the sea. ‘The Icelanders, after drying it, pack it down in casks for occasional consumption; and it is then ready to be eaten, either raw with fish and butter, or boiled with milk, to which is sometimes added a little rye-flour. In Norway it is called sow-séll, or sheep’s weed, sheep being exceedingly fond of it. It is used medicinally in fevers, in the Isle of Skye; and in the islands of the Archipelago, is a favourite ingredient in ragouts, to which it imparts a red color. The dried frond, like many other marine alge, when infused in water, exhales an odour resembling that of violets, and is said to communicate that flavour to vegetables with which it is mixed. LirttE Marine Borantst. SEAWEED is driven in here in considerable quantities; and at the spring tides, at the full moon and change, a few women may be seen, scattered over the rocks, collecting a particular species called Dillisk or Dulse (Rhodomenia palmata), which they dry in the sun, and then carry about the country and sell to the peasantry, who eat it as a delicacy. M. M. (White Park, Antrim.) TTA ision I RHODOMES ne signifies “ red’ Abundant m all the ro INARTICULATA PALMATA—PALMATED RHODOMENIA Tribe 9. Fronwre "and “a membrane.” cky shores of Great Britain AND THEIR TEACHINGS. dl Tuts species, with another (Orkneys Red-ware, Laminaria digitata), was, until recently, so much esteemed by our northern countrymen, that it was publicly sold in the cities, as an article of regular consumption. The cry of “Buy dulse and tangles,” resounded at no very distant period, even through the streets of Edinburgh. Many of the alge are rather extensively used as food; and though, to one unused to such diet, they would in gene- ral seem to offer little temptation to the appetite, the poorer natives, not only of our own, but of other shores, eat them with much relish. Let us not despise their taste, though differing from our own; but rather adore the beneficence of God, who has supplied in much abundance, an additional source of nutriment, and has conferred upon the recipients of his bounty, the taste requisite for its enjoyment. Tue OcEAN. Deer in the wave is a coral-grove, Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove ; Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, That never are wet with falling dew, But in bright and changeful beauty shine, Far down in the deep and glassy brine. The floor is of sand like the mountain drift, And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow ; From coral-rocks the sea-plants lift Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow ; The water is calm and still below, For the winds and waves are absent there ; And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air ; There with its waving blade of green, The sea-flag streams through the silent water ; And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter. J. G. Percivat. OCEAN FLOWERS CURLED CHONDRUS. Tus is called the Proteus of marine alge, the varieties being innumerable, and passing so insensibly one into the other that it is almost impossible to define them. When fully ripe, the capsules fall away, leaving the frond full of holes. It is used in Ireland, as size, by house-painters. Marine Boranist. THERE is a substance which has been lately introduced as an article of commerce, intended as a substitute for Iceland Moss, and sold by the London druggists by the name of Carrageen Moss; notwithstanding its name, however, it is a true alga, Chondrus crispus. It is an exceedingly variable species; but its most usual form is that of a flat leaf spreading somewhat triangularly, or rather so as to give to its outline the figure of one fourth of a circle; the edge is branched into numerous flat segments, overlapping one another. When viewed under water, in a growing state, it gives out beautiful prismatic hues. Containing a large quantity of gelatine, it has been successfully applied, instead of isinglass, in the making of blanemange and jellies. A fucus, probably allied to this, found at the Cape of Good Hope, is boiled into a jelly, and being mixed with sugar and the juice of lemons or oranges, makes a very agreeable dish. Tur OcEAN. CHONDRUS CRISPUS—CURLED CHONDRUS Fr ivision I, Inarricutata, Trit RIDER Name signifies “ cartilage :"’ from the cartilaginous substance of the frond .bundant on rocky shores. AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 53 Tuere is another genus, called Gelidium (from the frond being easily reduced to a jelly), much used by the inhabitants of many countries bordering the Indian Ocean, to render more palatable their hot and biting condiments; and from some undetermined species the celebrated edible swallow’s nests are constructed. Three species of swallows form edible nests; two of which building at a distance from the sea-coast, use the sea-weed only as a cement for other materials; the nests of the third species, are consequently most esteemed, and are sold for nearly their weight in gold. MarinE Boranisv. THERE with a slight and easy motion, The fan-coral sweeps thro’ the clear deep sea ; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean Are bending like corn on the upland lea : And life, in rare and beautiful forms, Is sporting amid those bowers of stone; And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms Has made the top of the waves his own. And when the ship from his fury flies, Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies, And demons are waiting the wreck on shore; There far below in the peaceful sea, The purple mullet and gold-fish rove; Where the waters murmur tranquilly, Through the bending twigs of the coral-grove. J. G, PERcIVAL. | | F || 54 OCEAN FLOWERS LACINIATED PURPLE-LAVER. Tus, under the name of Laver, is much eaten in many ik I places, especially the south of England, pickled with salt, i and preserved in jars, and when brought to table, served up with lemon-juice. According to Lightfoot, the inhabitants ! of the Western Isles gather it in the month of March, and \ after pounding and macerating it with a little water, eat it with pepper, vinegar, and butter. Others stew it with leeks, | 1 | and ‘onions. | Sir W. Hooker. Tue Purple Laver is called Stoke in Scotland. All the plants of this genus form beautiful specimens for the herba- rium; and when carefully dried, the surface is delightfully | smooth and glossy. \ Lirtte Marine Boranist. ResPectineé the reproduction of Algw, it is evident that the ql modes of flowering and fruiting which we perceive in land plants, would have been wholly inappropriate. Not exposed | to sunshine, there was no use for reflecting petals; continually q submersed in water, a sheltering calyx would have been super- fluous; and seeds, in the ordinary structure of that organ, could not have endured. Nature, however, is never in lack | . * * of means to an end; and the vegetation of the ocean is pro- i! pagated with as unerring certainty and with as great rapidity as the most prolific family on land. For this purpose, certain | species have their surface studded with blistery expansions, i | or part of their substance is filled with little cells, which expansions and cells contain many minute germs, floating in | | | | | | PORPHYRA LACINIATA—LACINIATED PURPLE- LAVER. Division I. Inarricurara, Tribe 11 Utvachs Name signifies “ purple ;” in allusion to the color of the fronds In the sea, on rocks, stones, alge and wood, abundant AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 55 mucilaginous matter. As these germs arrive at maturity, the enclosing pustules burst open, and the germs are con- signed to the ocean, where they float about coated with their glutenous mucilage, and are sure to adhere to the first surface upon which they impinge. In a few weeks they spring up into new plants, and in their turn give birth to thousands, Thus we have seen half-a-dozen different weeds attached to the same oyster-shell; and a pebble of twenty pounds’ weight, buoyed up by one plant of bladder-wrack, the primary germ of which had glued itself to the surface. CHAMBERS’ EpINBURGH JOURNAL. THOUGHTS ON THE SEA-SHORE “Tn every object here, I see Something, O Lord, that leads to thee;— Firm as the rocks thy promise stands; Thy mercies countless as the sands; Thy love a sea immensely wide; Thy grace an ever-flowing tide. In every object here, I see Something, my heart, that points at thee ;— Hard as the rocks that bound the strand ; Unfruitful as the barren sand ; Deep and deceitful as the ocean ; And, like the tides, in constant motion. J. Newron.—* Otney Hymns.” On the sea-shore, when day’s last purple smile Slept on the waters, and their hollow swell And dying cadence lent a deeper spell Unto thine ocean pictures. Mrs. Hermans. K 56 OCEAN FLOWERS RIBBAND GREEN-LAVER. Tus spedes is very similar to Ulva Latissima, and Ulva Lac- tuca, both eaten under the name of Green Laver or Oyster Green; bdng served at table with lemon-juice, in the same way as PurpleLaver. Lightfoot says, that the islanders ascribe to it an modyne virtue, and bind it about the forehead and temples to assuage headache in fevers, and to procure sleep. The Ribland Green-Laver delights to grow in those gravelly spots, where the fresh water oozes up during the ebb-tide. In such dtuations it is not uncommon to find specimens four feet in laagth, with a diameter not exceeding two inches. Sin W. Hooker. Tw ther distributions the alge obey laws equally impera- tive as those which regulate the habitats of land vegetation. Thus the bladder-wrack luxuriates most where alternately exposed and covered by the tide; the dulse, on the very confines of the lowest ebb ; and the tangle and sea-catgut in a zore where the lowest ebb never reaches. We know litle of the bottom of the ocean over extensive spaces; tut this we are warranted in affirming, that sea- weeds flourish most abundantly on rocky patches of moderate depth, tht they never spring from sandy or muddy sites, and that they are altogether unknown in the greater depths of the sa. Many of them seem to float about quite un- attached; and though these may have been torn from some ULVA LINZA—RIBBAND GREEN LAVER Di on I. Inarricutats#. Tribe 11. Untvacem Theis, from “ul,” water, in Celtic; applied to some iquatic Rocks and stones in the AND THEIR TEACHINGS. on ~l rocky shore, yet continually in water, they absorb their proper nutriment, and increase in size almost as much as their fixed congeners. Being less subject to fluctuations of temperature, the alge are more regular in their growth than land plants; and with the exception of a few within the tidal influence, the majority seem to experience no cessation of growth or propagation. It must be borne in mind also, that the alge are inhabitants of fresh as well as salt-water, and that some of the most curious and beautiful genera are found in our streams and pools, or spread in the form of the most delicate slime on stones and gravel. Nay, what is more wonderful still, some, like the Ulva Thermatis, flourish even in hot springs, at a temperature not less than 117 degrees of Farenheit! Cuamspers’ Epinsuren JouRNAL. I LoveD to walk where none had walk’d before, About the rocks that ran along the shore; Or far beyond the sight of men to stray, And take my pleasure when I lost my way. For then *twas mine to trace the hilly heath, And all the mossy moor that lies beneath. Here had I favorite stations, where I stood, And heard the murmurs of the ocean-flood, With not a sound beside, except when flew Aloft the lapwing, or the grey curlew, Who with wild notes my fancied power defied, And mock’d the dreams of solitary pride. I loved to stop at every creek and bay Made by the river in its winding way ; And call to memory—not by marks they bare, But by the thoughts that were created there. CRABBE. OCEAN FLOWERS OAK-LEAVED DELESSERIA. Pernars the most lovely of all the Fuci is the Delesseria Oak-leaved Delesseria. It consists of several Sanguinea oblong-oval or pointed leaves of extreme delicacy, with the edges very much waved or plaited, furnished with a mid-rib and side veins, which materially increase their leaf-like appear- ance ; the color is an exceedingly rich rose-color. The mid- rib often throws out smaller leaves, which, if the main frond be destroyed, soon attain its usual size; an interesting provision against the accidents to which these apparently frail plants are necessarily exposed. The fructification of this genus is curious, as being of a twofold character: both forms are found in the winter, affixed to the midrib, which alone survives that season, the foliaceous part having all decayed away. The one mode is by means of nearly globular capsules, attached to the rib by short foot-stalks, and enclosing many irregularly shaped seeds; the other is by small membra- naceous leaf-like processes, likewise containing seeds. These two kinds of fructification occur on distinct individuals. This charming fucus, of which no adequate idea can be formed by a verbal description, retains much of its beauty when dried, and is very easily preserved. It is a pity that I am obliged to confess, that its odour is very unpleasant, being rank and pungent. Tue Ocean. DELESSERIA Named in honor DELESS!I Division I, InaRtTrouLaTa. Sea sh f M. Benjamin Delessert, a distinguished patron of SANGUINEA—OAK-LEAVED BRIA. Tribe 9, Frortpre yequent. White Park, Antrim AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 59 TO THE OAK-LEAVED DELESSERIA “Trt me, thou child of ocean, With thy ensanguined fronds, Nursed by the wave’s commotion, And fixed by rooted bonds: Why is such beauty lavish’d In caves of ocean dark, From human vision banish’d, Such texture fair to mark ? Say, do the sea-nymphs find thee, Thy roseate leaves unfold, And round their tresses bind thee, As oaken wreaths of old? Like roses here on earth Do they thy beauty prize, As flowers of heavenly birth, Emblems of brighter skies? Short-sighted mortal, shame thee! Dost think that beauty gleams Where man alone must see it, Or where he useful deems ? No brilliant hues are needed To deck the sea-nymphs’ hair, But beauty springs unheeded Throughout creation fair. Our God in love abounding Has thus his mind display’d; With beauty all surrounding The creatures he has made. J. Mackness, M.D. (Hastings.) L OCEAN FLOWERS WINGED DELESSERIA. Tus plant, like most of the specimens in this book, requires the aid of a lens, to discover half its beauties. It has perceptible veins, the fronds are transparent, and vary in color from a deep rose-red to a bright pink; and in decay it is beautifully variegated with palest pink and white. A CLOSE examination of a small extent of sea-shore, where sea-weed is plentiful, will prove to you that the “great deep” abounds in vegetables as various in forms and color as in size; and the microscope will reveal to you wonders as great as the land can afford. Simple thread-like tubes, jointed filaments, the particles of which cohere by inconceivably minute points, tangled tufts consisting of countless feathery stems, exquisitely veined leaves, all abounding with fructi- fication as various as the plants themselves, wave to and fro, in the little pools left among the rocks by the receding tide. And as to color, you can scarcely name a tint which is not here to be met with, as brilliant and delicate as in the opening rose, or the full-blown cactus. Time will not serve me to particularize them; and indeed I should find it very difficult to describe the minute kinds in such a way as to enable you to fix on the species which I had in view: but a cursory glance will be sufficient to teach you the same lesson which throughout all our rambles it has been my principal object to inculeate: —that the meanest work in the creation is well worthy of our deepest research and admiration, not merely because it may lead to some useful discovery, but because the ISSERIA ALATA—WINGED DELESSERIA Upo BL Scotland. n rocks in the Sea, and larger algee, frequent. AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 61 actual inquiry, while it compels us to engage in exercise healthful to the body, is equally beneficial to the mind, making us wiser, better, and happier. Cc. A. Jouns’ Boranicat RAMBLES. As in form, so in size, sea-weeds vary exceedingly; pre- senting fibres, the delicacy of which requires the aid of the microscope to examine, floating leaves to which those of the fan-palm are mere pigmies, or tangling cables extending from three to four hundred feet in length. “The Macrocystis Pyrifera,” says Darwin, in speaking of Terra del Fuego, “grows on every rock from low-water mark to a great depth, both on the outer coast, and within the channels. I believe that, during the voyages of the Adven- turer and Beagle, not one rock near the surface was discovered which was not buoyed by this floating weed. The good service it thus affords to vessels navigating near this stormy land is evident; and it has certainly saved many from being wrecked. “I know few things more surprising than to see this plant growing and flourishing amidst those great breakers of the western ocean, which no mass of rock, let it be ever so hard, can long resist. The stem is round, slimy, and smooth, and seldom has a diameter of so much as one inch. A few taken together are sufficiently strong to support the weight of the large loose stones; and yet some of these stones were so heavy, that when drawn to the surface, they could seareely be lifted into a boat by one person. I do not suppose the stem of any other plant attains so great a length as 360 feet, as stated by Captain Cook. Captain Fitzroy, moreover, found it growing up from the greater depth of forty-five fathoms!” CuamBers’ EprnsurGH JOURNAL. 62 OCEAN FLOWERS PODDED HALIDRYS: OR, TREE IN THE SEA. Tus beautiful and graceful plant is thrown upon the sands in great abundance during the summer months ; when young and fresh, it is of a bright olive-green, but it soon becomes black when exposed to the sun and air. Lirrie Martine Boranist. Tuoven the extensive natural order of Alga is reckoned among the lowest of vegetable creation, we shall find that it is scarcely exceeded by any in the form, and color, and tex- ture of its species; so that no cryptogamic plants have been more general objects of admiration and research ; and if their value is to be estimated by the service mankind derives from them, they will hold a high rank in the stale. From the marine alew, Iodine, a new principle, and possessed of very remarkable properties, is derived.* It has been successfully employed in the cure of goitres, a disease which Dr. Gillies informs us had yielded, in South America, to the application of the stem of a certain fucus, long bere iodine was employed in civilized Europe. Sir W. Hooker. * Todine is procured principally from Fucus Nodosus. wea vi HALIDE PODDED SILIQUOSA 7c vt 5S HALID! AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 63 Toprne derives its name from a Greek word signifying a violet, from the peculiar hue of the vapour which it emits when heated. Polished plates of silver held over these fumes are peculiarly sensitive of light, and are used in taking like- nesses by the process called Daguerreotype. C. A. Jonns’ “Borantcan RAMBLEs.” THE sea-wort floating on the waves, or rolled up high along the shore, Ye counted useless and vile, heaping on it names of contempt, Yet hath it gloriously triumphed, and man been humbled in his ignorance ; For health is in the freshness of its savour, and it cumbereth the beach with wealth ; Comforting the tossings of pain with its violet-tinctured essence, And, by its humbler ashes, enriching many proud. Be this, then, a lesson to thy soul, that thou reckon nothing worthless, Because thou heedest not its use, nor knowest the virtues thereof, And herein, as thou walkest by the sea, shall weeds be a type and an earnest Of the stored and uncounted riches lying hid in all creatures of God ! M. F. Turrer’s “PROVERBIAL PHILOsoPHyY.” 64 OCEAN FLOWERS FIBROUS CYSTOSEIRA. Tue vesicles of this fine species are three or four times wider than the part in which they appear, and about the size of a vetch-seed, with a bushy and somewhat harsh appearance of frond. Dr. GREVILLE. Onty the higher tribes of sea-weeds show any distinction into stems and leaves ; and even in these, what appears a stem in the old plant, has already served, at an earlier period of growth, either as a leaf, as in Cystoseira, &c., or the midrib of aleaf, as in Delesseria. A few exhibit leaves or flat fronds, formed of a delicate perforated net-work resembling fine lace, or the skeletons of leaves, a structure which is also found among Zoophytes. Hon. W. H. Hakvey, Tuosr who have resided inland all their lives, where only shallow rivers flow, where clear fountains rise, or muddy currents roll along, view with deep admiration the first appearance of the sea, as they regard from the shore the pure and sparkling green complexion of its waters—a color which seems indeed peculiar to itself. Admiration is changed to SYSTOSEIRA C FIBROSA—FIBROUS YSTOSEIRA ( Focorpr# uthern Coasts AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 65 wonder when we find, on placing a portion of that water into a vessel, no trace of that peculiar color is to be seen; it is now perfectly clear and colourless. Marine plants, especially the corallines, beam in the sea with the greatest splendour ; but, as soon as they are taken out, much of their beauty vanishes. Certain Cystoseire (or Iridex), which in their fostering element shine in the colors of the rainbow, or in the finest tints of orange and purple, lose their attractions by exposure to the atmospheric air. When on a cloudless day we enjoy an excursion on its surface, the waves appear colored in such a manner around us, we are inclined to believe, as we admire the deepness of its green, that we are upon a liquid meadow ; as the vessel becomes distant from the shore, and we reach the high latitudes, the green tint changes into a blue tint ; and in the open sea the water becomes (at 50 or 60 fathoms) of the finest azure color. But this blue, which is ordinarily regarded as one of the characteristics of the ocean, and which is commonly attributed to the manner in which the rays of the sun become decomposed, as they penetrate into the waters, is not, however, exclusively pecu- liar to it ; every large and deep bed of water has a cast of a similar nature.* Cou. Bory pE St. VINCENT. * It is generally supposed that this green appearance of the sea in shallow water is owing to the weeds growing on the bottom. The deep blue tint “ out of soundings” seems to arise from some peculiarity in the constitution of the fluid itself in respect to its action on light. Perhaps the similarity of color between the sky-deep above, and the ocean-deep below, may indicate some analogy of constitution between the waters of the one and the ether of the other. ASV. OCEAN FLOWERS. LACINIATED RHODOMENIA Tuts beautiful species of Rhodomenia is common on many parts of the coasts of Great Britain. It varies much in appearance, the segments being often fringed with marginal lacinie, but more frequently quite plain. The smaller and more delicate specimens have much resemblance to Rhodo- menia bifida. Tue following pleasing description of the romantic shore whence these deautiful specimens of the plants were obtained, adds yet greaier interest to this page :— “The hills of White Park are thickly covered with bent ; and among them are scattered large masses of grey rocks, almost overgrown with the bright green glossy-leaved ivy, and bearing a strong resemblance to the ruins of castellated buildings ; these add greatly to the romantic beauty of the scene. In fiont roll the foam-crested waves of the broad Atlantic, sounding in solemn music on the shore, and bearing on their storny bosoms these ‘flowers of the deep,’ which bear testimony to the truth of the poet’s words : ‘Far in the sunless retreats of the ocean, Fair flowers are springing no mortal may see.’ RHODOM TIA LACINIATA. LACI} RHODOMENIA. LATED | | | | Division 1 InarrrounaT#, Tribe 9, Froripra From the shores of White Park, Antrira, Ireland, AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 67 “To the lover of solitary meditative rambles, a more attractive spot than this lovely strand could scarcely be dis- covered ; the sand is hard and firm beneath the foot, and the long unbroken line—unbroken save by the foaming breakers as they ‘Roar, and dash, and sink, and cease to be,’ forms a most agreeable noontide walk. When the broad sun is pouring his fiery rays oti the languid earth, here all is fresh and cool; and the mind, alike unoppressed by the fever of society, or the weight of excessive stillness, can ask itself with Brainard, ‘Deep calleth unto deep; and what are we That hear the question of that voice sublime ? O! what are all the notes that ever rung From war’s vain trumpet, by thy thund’ring side ! Yea, what is all the riot man can make In his short life, to thy unceasing roar ! And yet, bold babbler!— what art thou, to Him, Who drown’d a world, and heap’d the waters far Above its loftiest mountains ?—a light wave, That breaks, and whispers of its Maker’s might.’ ”’ (M.S.) Margaret. (Knockmore.) From the sea are exhaled those vapours which form the clouds; these clouds descend in showers, which penetrating into the crevices of the hills, supply springs; which springs flow in little streams into the valleys, and there uniting, become rivers; which rivers in return feed the ocean. So there is an incessant circulation of the same fluid; and not one drop probably, more or less now, than there was at the creation. A particle of water takes its departure from the surface of the sea, in order to fulfil certain important offices to the earth; and having executed the service which was assigned to it, returns to the bosom which it left. Patey’s “Naturat Puinosopxy.” N OCEAN FLOWERS IEE Pe THE PINASTER-LIKE RHODOMELA. Tus sea-weed is covered during the winter months with shortly stalked yellow bodies, probably of an animal nature. i || As to the direct uses of the alge in the general economy of nature.—On land, it is only necessary to glance around us, to perceive that the animal kingdom could not exist without the vegetable. Beasts of the forest, and fowls of the air, and countless myriads of the insect tribe—man himself—all depend, more or less, on vegetables for their food and cloth- ing. The sea, too, has its hordes at least as numerous as those of the land, to which the alge afford food and shelter, 1 and on whose existence, contemptible as many of them seem, depends, in a greater or less degree, the preservation of every scale of life in the sea. Many of these little animals are so minute, that at first sight it would seem a matter of very little consequence to ws (for when we speak of “uses,” the words “to man” are too generally to be understood) whether they should starve or not. But when it is remembered that the principal food of the whale consists of a minute jelly-fish, which is scarcely more than an animal sack, moving by con- traction; and that by far the greater part of the fishes impor- tant as articles of food to man depend upon minute marine animals for support; a different estimate will be formed of the | importance of the lower links in the chain of creation to the whole, and we shall come to the conclusion that there is such LIKE in ASTER AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 69 a mutual dependance between one living creature and another, that none but the All-wise can dare to determine whether one, the most minute, can be spared without endangering the destruction of all. The alge, therefore, by supporting the base, support the structure. Hon. W. H. Harvey. “flow wondrous is the scene ! where all is form’d With number, weight, and measure !—all design’d For some great end!—where not alone the plant Of stately growth, the herb of glorious hue, Or food-full substance; not the laboring steed; The herd and flock that feed us; not the mine, That yields us stores for elegance and use ; The sea that loads our table, and conveys The wanderer man from clime to clime ; with all Those rolling spheres, that from on high, shed down Their kindly influence ;—not these alone, Which strike e’en eyes incurious, but each moss, Each shell, each crawling insect, holds a rank Important in the plan of Him, who framed This scale of beings; holds a rank, which lost, Would break the chain, and leave behind a gap Which Nature’s self would rue. Almighty Being! Cause and support of all things! can I view These objects of my wonder; can I feel These fine sensations, and not think of Thee? Thou who dost through th’ eternal round of time, Dost through the immensity of space exist Alone, shalt Thou alone excluded be From this Thy universe ?—shall feeble man Think it beneath his proud philosophy To call for thy assistance, and pretend To frame a world, who cannot frame a clod? BENJAMIN STILLINGFLEET. OCEAN FLOWERS PINNATIFID LAURENCIA. ‘Tuts is a beautiful, but very variable plant, growing from one to many inches in length. It is a summer weed, and often dries a dark green, or nearly black; in pressing it exudes a bright yellow fluid. . This plant is eaten in Scotland, where it is called Pepper Dulse, on account of its pungent flavor. Amone algw, the classes of color are, to a great extent, indicative of structure, and consequently of natural affinity. Thus the green species are of the simplest structure, and differ remarkably in their mode of propagation from either of the other tribes, their seeds being endowed at the period of germination with a sort of metion which some have called voluntary, but which does not really possess that animal property. The olivaceous are the most perfect and compound, and reach the largest size; and the red form a group distin- guished not less by the beauty and delicacy of their tissue, than by producing seeds under two forms, thus possessing what is called a double fructification. But the young student must be careful not to place too absolute dependance on this character, in referring plants which he may gather to their place in the system ; for some species which in their healthy state are red, or of that class of color, become, when growing under unfavourable circum- stances, of an orange-yellowish, whitish, or greenish shade. Laurencia Pinnatifida is particularly variable in this respect. | AND THEIR TEACHINGS. 71 When this species grows near low-water mark, it is of a fine deep purple red; a little higher up, it is dull purple brown ; higher still, a pale brownish red, and, at last, near high-water mark, it is often yellowish or greenish. | | The other species of Laurencia vary in similar, but less | | striking degrees. Chondrus Crispus too, when found in | ts , shallow water, is often of a bright herbaceous green; and | | Ceramium Rubrum passes through every shade of red and | y . ; 4 . i . | yellow, and at last degenerates into a dirty white, before it ceases to grow. Hon. W. H. Harvey. | On children of ocean, how strange is your growing! How strange in mine eyes is the place of your birth! No breezes to fan you are tenderly blowing, No soft dews ye share with your kindred of earth. But while far above you the tempest is sweeping, The billows are rolling, all crested and white, Those fathomless depths, that have you in their keeping, Untroubled abide, and are séill in their might ! The seasons may change—but for you come no changes ; Nor fading of autumn, nor spring-bloom ye know. Time dwells in mid-air;—his light wing never ranges | The sky-deep above, or the sea-deep below. | (M.S.) E | | at OCEAN FLOWERS FEATHERED PTILOTA. Tuts is one of the most beautiful of the marine alge. A jointed appearance is visible in the young and tender parts of this plant. Like their kindred, the plants of the earth and air, the seaweeds have their parasites. As the Tillandsia grows on the giants of the tropical forests, and as the misseltoe grows upon the apple-tree of our own orchards, so do some of these draw their nourishment, or at least derive their support, from the fronds or stalks of others. Ptilota Plumosa, for example, a delicately feathered species, of a pink or purplish hue, is found to be parasitical on the common tangle. It is justly considered one of the ornaments of our southern shores, but becomes still finer as we approach a more northern latitude. Tue OcEAN. LINES ON THE FEATHERED PTILOTA; ADDRESSED TO——. I rounp, while I wander’d alone on the strand, By the cliff that o’erhangs the dark sea, A flower of the ocean embedded in sand ; And the thoughts it awoke, were of thee. I saw it removed from the parent that nurst Tts frail leaves as it oped to the deep ; And I thought of the sorrow, the deepest, the first That had taught thy young eye-lids to weep. I saw it uprooted and torn by the storm, From its kindred and home ’neath the wave ; And I felt it might envy the earth’s meanest worm That could make of its cradle a grave. PTILOTA PLUMOSA—FEATHERED PTILOTA Division 1. Inarricurat#, Tribe9. FLrormEr2. ed, from the extremely beautiful pinnated appearance of the Scotland ~l ~ AND THEIR TEACHINGS. I thought of thee leaving the home of thy love, And the friends that rejoiced in thy smile, To be toss’d on the waves of the world, but to prove How its fairy-wrought visions beguile. And now ’mid the calm it was borne to its rest, Ere the evening-tide murmurs had come ;— Thou too, by the burthen and day-heat opprest, Hast welcomed the rest of the tomb. And far from the rocks where thy footsteps have stray’d, Where the friends of thy youth for thee weep ; On the shores of the stranger thy grave thou hast made, And there gentle ones watch o’er thy sleep. Meet emblem, again see it raised from the sand, No sea-storm to feel or to fear;— Thy spirit unfetter’d has soar’d to a land Where thy joy is undimm’d by a tear. (M.S.) Isasetna. (Knockmore.) A REFLECTION AT SEA Srp how beneath the moon-beams’ smile, Yon little billow heaves its breast, And foams and sparkles for a while, And murmuring then subsides to rest. Thus man, the sport of bliss and care, Rises on time’s eventful sea ; And having swell’d a moment there, Thus melts into eternity ! T. Moore. =F 2) OCEAN FLOWERS RED CERAMIUM. Tus elegant, jointed plant should be examined through a lens, to discover the beauty of its formation ;—it is very variable in its ramification and coloring. ToucH possessing no floral attractions, the alge are often very beautiful in their forms and colors, as may be seen by studying any preserved collection. They branch, radiate, and interlace like the most delicate network; float in long silken tresses, or spread along the rocky bottom, in forms that surpass the most intricate tracery of human invention. Nor are their colors often less attractive ; for though the prevailing hue be a sober chocolate, there are patches of the brightest green, yellow and vermilion, not surpassed by the grandest shells that lurk below. It is true that “'The rainbow hues of the sea-tree’s bloom,” is a mere fanciful absurdity, only fit to be classed with the “coral bowers,” and “sparkling caves,” of the versifier ; yet the reader has only to pick up a few of the mosses drifted by the latest tide, and to float them in pure water, to be convinced that both in form and color many of the alge would lose nothing by a comparison with the gayest products of the flower-garden. CuamBeErs’ JOURNAL.