Book VII Radiata
The Star-Fish. (Asterias, or Uraster Rubens.)
This animal is often found adhering to rocks on the sea-shores. The common species is furnished with five rays, and is of a yellow or red colour. It has a slow progressive motion, and is often found on the beach among seaweeds after a storm.
Mr. Bingley describes an animal of this kind, which he kept by him for some time alive; it had more than four thousand tentacula on the under sides of the rays. These it frequently retracted, and again pushed out, as a snail does its horns; and by means of them it was enabled firmly to adhere to the dish containing the salt-water in which it was kept. Whenever he touched the tentacula with his finger, all those of that ray or limb were gradually withdrawn, but those of the other rays were not in the least affected by it.
There are many other kinds of Star-fishes, especially in warm climates. Amongst our native species we may notice the Great Sun Star (Solaster papposa) with a large disc and thirteen short rays; the Luidia fragilissima with five long rays, which it usually casts off immediately on finding itself in danger, so as to render it a most difficult matter to obtain perfect specimens of this species. The Feathered Star (Comatula rosacea) is also deserving of mention.—This is a small species, with the arms distinct from the body as in the last species and jointed, but furnished with numerous slender jointed tentacles which give them the appearance of plumes. There are ten of these arms and the number of little calcareous joints contained in them is most astonishing. The small cuplike body of the Feather Star bears other slender jointed appendages, by means of which the creature clings to the rocks with its mouth and arms directed upwards; and in the young state it is even supported on a jointed stalk, from which it eventually casts itself free.
The Sea-Urchin. (Echinus Miliaris.)
This animal, which lodges in the cavities of rocks just beneath low-water mark, on most of the British coasts, is nearly of a globular shape, not much unlike that of an orange, having its shell marked into ten partitions, with rows of projections like beads, which divide it. On the outside of the shell there are a great number of sharp, moveable spines, of a dull violet and greenish colour, curiously articulated, like balls and sockets, with tubercles on the surface, and connected by strong ligaments to the skin or epidermis with which the shell is covered. The mouth is situated in the under part, and is armed with five strong and sharpened teeth. The animal can move from place to place by means of its contractile tubular feet and its spines; but its movements are slow and laborious. So tenacious of life are the Sea-urchins, that the ancients, according to Appian, believed that the body retained life even when cut to pieces.
“If in the sea the mangled parts you cast,
The conscious pieces to their fellows haste;
Again they aptly join, their whole compose,
Move as before, nor life nor vigour lose.”
In Marseilles, and some other towns on the continent, the Sea-urchin is exposed for sale in the markets, as oysters are with us, and is eaten boiled as an egg. The Romans adopted it as food, and dressed it with vinegar, mead, parsley, and mint.
Zoophytes
Zoophytes were long supposed to hold a middle station between animals and vegetables. Most of them, deprived altogether of the power of locomotion, are fixed by stems that take root in the crevices of rocks, among sand, or in such other situations as Nature has destined for their abode; these, by degrees, send off branches, till at length some of them attain the size and extent of large shrubs. The Zoophytes were placed by Linnæus in two divisions. The stony branches of the first division, which have the general appellation of coral, are full of hollow cells, which are habitations of the animals. The next division consists of such Zoophytes as have softer, fleshy, or horny, stems, and in which the individual polypes are, as it were, amalgamated with their common plant-like habitation.
The Coral, or Gorgonia, is a hard, stony, branched, and cylindrical substance, which is formed at the bottom of the sea by animals called polyps, or, to use the Latin and now established term, polypi. The whole form a living mass, or polypidom, all the polypi in which are united under one skin, and have one common stomach. Each of these polypi resides in a distinct cell; they are generally dormant during winter, and like the blossoms of plants, push forth buds, and expand in the summer season. The stems and branches of the Gorgoniæ, which are of a somewhat horny and flexible nature, may be considered as the true skeletons of the nests of the sea polypi, being covered with a fleshy or pulpy substance, the surface of which is porous. These pores are the mouths or openings of the cells, in which the polypi are lodged; and it is the number, disposition, and varied structure of these, in addition to the general aspect of the plant-like nest of habitations, that constitute the distinguishing difference of the species.
The bone of the Red Coral constitutes that beautiful and much esteemed production, the true or red coral of the jewellers. It is found in the Mediterranean, Adriatic, and Red Sea, and appears to be nowhere more abundant than in the seas about Marseilles, Corsica, Sicily, the coasts of Africa, and in the vicinity of Barbary; where the Coral fisheries are carried on with great spirit, and prove very lucrative. It is equal in hardness and durability to the most compact marble; and these qualities, in addition to its beautiful texture and colour, have rendered it valuable in all ages. Thus in the book of Job, “No mention shall be made of corals, or of pearls; for the price of wisdom is above rubies.”
Travellers in tropical lands often speak of the exquisite beauty of the coral beds that lie at the bottom of the ocean. The water is so clear in those regions, that these wonderful formations are clearly visible at a great depth, growing like stony forests, mingled with waving seaweeds of many brilliant dyes.
The mode of obtaining Coral is by a very simple machine, consisting of two strong bars of wood or iron, tied across each other, with a weight suspending from their centre of union. Each of the bars is loosely surrounded, throughout its whole length, with twisted hemp; and, at the extremity, there is a small open net. The machine is suspended by a rope, and dragged along those rocks where the Coral is most abundant: and such as is broken off either becomes entangled in the hemp, or falls into the nets.
Coral is bought by weight, and its value increases according to its size. Beads of large size are worth about forty shillings an ounce, whilst small ones do not sell for more than four shillings. Large pieces of Coral are sometimes cut into balls, and exported to China, to be worn as insignia in the caps of officers of state. These, if perfectly sound and of good colour, and upwards of an inch in diameter, have been known to produce in that market, as much as three to four hundred pounds sterling each. There are extant many beautiful pieces of sculpture in coral, as this substance has in all ages been considered an admirable material on which to exhibit the artist’s taste and skill. Probably the finest specimen of sculptured Coral yet known is a chess-board and men in the palace of the Tuileries.
The Chinese have, within the last few years, succeeded in cutting coral beads of much smaller dimension than has hitherto been effected by any European artist. These, which are not larger than small pins’ heads, are called Seed Coral, and are now imported from China into this country, in very considerable quantity for necklaces. There are modes by which Coral may be so exactly imitated, that without a close inspection, it is sometimes impossible to detect the counterfeit.
Stony Corals
The Red Coral, just described, belongs to the section of zoophytes called Asteroida by Cuvier, in which the surface of the polypidom is fleshy, and each polypus has only eight arms. The polypi which form the massive stony corals of the tropical reefs, are furnished with numerous tentacles, and resemble in their general conformation the Sea Anemones which are so well known now-a-days as inhabitants of aquaria. The coral consists of a deposit of carbonate of lime, and each polypus dwells in a cell which exhibits a number of thin stony rays nearly meeting in the middle. The masses of coral differ exceedingly in size, some consisting of the habitations of only two or three polypi, whilst others are the gradual production of a vast and constantly succeeding population; some form branched trees and shrubs of the most various and elegant forms, others grow in solid masses, but all, when living, present a most beautiful appearance from the charming and often brilliant diversity of colours with which they are adorned.
In the Pacific Ocean several of the coral reefs are extremely beautiful, and the voyager is astonished with the curious and fantastic forms of the various marine productions of which they are composed. Wheat-sheaves, mushrooms, cabbage leaves, with innumerable plants and flowers, are vividly represented by different kinds of Coral, and glow beneath the water in brilliant tints of brown and purple, white or green; each with a peculiar form and shade of colouring, equal in richness and variety to the most beautiful productions of the vegetable world. Corals and fungi start from between the fissures of the rocks; while large portions of the former, in a dead state, connected into a solid mass, of a dull white colour, compose the stone-work of the reef. Solid masses, termed negro heads, of different dusky hues, and generally dry and blackened by exposure to the weather, are also occasionally conspicuous. Even these are not without ornament, for nature delights in the variety of her decorations. They are studded with small shells, and beautifully marked with outlines expressive of their origin. The edges of the reefs, particularly those exposed to the waves, partake of a considerable degree of lightness, and form small coves and caverns, the resort of live corals, sponges, sea-eggs, and trefangs, or sea traces, (valued in China, for their invigorating quality,) and enormous cockles, which are scarcely to be distinguished from the rock, excepting when they suddenly close their shells, and discharge living fountains, which rise to the height of four or five feet.
With regard to the formation of coral reefs, it has been conjectured, from the appearance of the low islands in some parts of the South Sea and Indian Ocean (where they occur in rows or groups, while they are totally absent in other parts of the same seas), that Coral animals rear their habitations on marine shoals, or, to speak more properly, at or near the top of sub-marine mountains. As it is known, however, that the polypes can only build their coral within a small distance of the surface of the sea, and the water is often of immense depth close to the coral reefs, it has been supposed that in the Pacific Ocean, where the greater part of the Coral reefs and islands are met with, the bottom of the sea has been gradually undergoing changes, deepening in some places and becoming shallower in others, and by this supposition most of the peculiarities of the Coral reefs and islands may easily be accounted for. Where reefs are formed the bottom is generally sinking; islands indicate that the bottom is stationary or rising. In the latter case, when the Corals approach close to the surface, floating substances of every kind are caught by their stony tree-like fabrics, till at length a solid mass of rock is formed, which gradually advances to the surface of the water. The deposits of the ocean no longer tenaciously adhere, but remain in a loose state, and form what is termed by mariners a key upon the summit of the reef; while the sea, by throwing up sand and mud on the top of these animal rocks, progressively raises them above its level. The new island, for such it may now be called, is soon visited by sea-birds; plants successively appear, and carpet the sterile soil with a luxuriant covering. As these decay, vegetable mould is gradually deposited; cocoa-nuts, or some floating seeds, flung on shore by the impetuosity of the waves, take root, and soon begin to grow; land-birds, attracted by the verdant appearance of the bank, fly thither in quest of provisions, and deposit the seeds of shrubs and trees; every high tide and every gale adds some new treasure: the appearance of an island is gradually assumed, and at length man comes to take possession.
Sponge is a substance of a soft, light, porous, and elastic nature, which is found adhering to rocks at the bottom of the sea, in several parts of the Mediterranean, and particularly near the islands of the Grecian Archipelago; and which, in its natural state, is filled with animal jelly. The general uses of Sponge, arising from its ready absorption of fluids, and distension by moisture, are well known and of great importance. It is collected from rocks, in water five or six fathoms deep, chiefly by divers. When first taken from the sea, it has a strong and fishy smell, from the animal matter it contains, of which it is divested by being washed in clear water. No other preparation than this is requisite previously to its being packed up for exportation and sale. The growth of Sponge is so rapid, that it is frequently found in perfection on rocks, from which, only two years before, it had been entirely cleared.
As they are never designed to move from their places of abode, the surface of the Sponges is covered with innumerable small apertures or pores, communicating with a network of fine canals, which permeate every part of the substance and convey to the minute and simple creatures which form the living part of this curious compound animal, the food and water necessary for their support and respiration. These fine canals unite into larger passages, leading to orifices of considerable size usually placed on prominences of the surface; from these the water streams forth with such force, according to some observers, as to be perceptible by the eye.
The inherent chemical properties of this curious Zoophyte are very remarkable. When a Sponge has been immersed for fourteen or sixteen days in nitric acid (diluted with three parts of distilled water) it becomes nearly transparent, and when touched with ammonia, assumes a deep orange colour, inclining to a brownish red. But if much softened by the acid, the whole fabric immediately disappears, on being immersed in ammonia, and forms a deep orange-coloured solution. A Sponge, when boiled, gives out a considerable portion of animal jelly. The infusion of a small quantity of oak bark causes this to fall to the bottom of the vessel, as a sediment, and so entirely changes the nature of the Sponge, that, when dry, it crumbles between the fingers; and, when moist, it may be torn like wetted paper. In this state we should naturally conclude that it is entirely useless: but no; the operations of chemistry resemble a magic wand. Boil the same in water, with caustic potash, its latent qualities will be called forth; and, behold, a deposition of animal soap!
The Fresh-Water Polypi and Their Marine Allies. (Hydroida.)
These are two species, which will fully illustrate the nature of the whole tribe. They are found in clear waters, and may generally be seen in small ditches and trenches of fields, especially in the months of April and May. They affix themselves to the under-parts of leaves, and to the stalks of such vegetables as happen to grow in the same water; and feed on the various species of small worms and other aquatic animals within their reach. When any of these pass near a Polyp, the latter suddenly catches it with its arms, and dragging it to its mouth, swallows it by degrees, much in the same manner as a snake gorges its prey. Two Polypi may occasionally be seen in the act of seizing the same worm at different ends, and dragging it in opposite directions with great force. It sometimes happens, that while one is swallowing the end it has seized, the other is employed in the same manner; and thus they continue swallowing, each his part, until their mouths meet. They then rest for some time in this situation, till the worm breaks between them, and each goes off with his share. But sometimes when the mouths of both are thus joined together a combat ensues, and the largest Polyp usually swallows his antagonist; the animal thus swallowed, however, seems to be a gainer by its misfortune, as after it has lain in the conqueror’s body for about an hour it issues unhurt, and often in possession of the prey that had been the original cause of contention. The remains of the animal, on which the Polyp feeds, are evacuated at the mouth, the only opening in the body. The species are multiplied by a kind of vegetation, one or two, or even more young ones, emerging gradually from the sides of the parent animal; and these young ones are frequently again prolific before they drop off; so that it is no uncommon thing to see two or three generations at once on the same Polyp. But the most astonishing fact respecting this animal is, that if a Polyp be cut in pieces, it is not destroyed, but is multiplied by dissection. It may be cut in every direction that fancy can suggest, and even into very minute divisions, and not only the parent stock will remain uninjured, but every section will become an animal. Even when turned inside out, it suffers no material injury; for, in that state it will soon begin to take food, and to perform all its other natural functions.
M. Trembley, of Geneva, ascertained that different portions of one Polyp could be engrafted on another. Two transverse sections brought into contact will quickly unite and form one animal, though each section should belong to a different species. The head of one species may be engrafted on the body of another. When one Polyp is introduced by the tail into another’s body, the two heads unite and form one individual. Pursuing these strange operations, M. Trembley gave scope to his fancy by repeatedly splitting the head and part of the body; he thus formed hydras more complicated than ever struck the imagination of the most romantic fabulist.
Though so difficult to destroy by division, all the Polyps, even those which form the corals, may be easily killed by depriving them of moisture, when they soon shrivel up, and the tissue of their skins is completely destroyed.
Of these Fresh-water Polypi, only a few kinds are known, but the sea nourishes a multitude of species which closely resemble the Hydras in their structure, from hence called Hydroid Polyps by Cuvier and many other naturalists. Most of these are compound creatures, of the kind shown in the above engraving, of which many species may be found on all our shores. A horny tube runs branching over the surface of a seaweed, or some other object, and from this, at intervals, rise slender stalks, often branched in the most elegant manner. Upon the delicate branches we find little horny cups, each of which is the habitation of a tiny Polyp, furnished with a mouth and stomach, and with a circlet of slender arms to enable it to capture its prey. Other species are enclosed only in a soft membrane, but all rise from creeping roots.
Besides the Polypi just mentioned as nearly related to the fresh-water Hydra and those forming the different kinds of Corals, the sea produces a vast number of other Zoophytes, the commonest kinds of which are well known as Sea Anemones. These animals are found adhering to rocks on all shores; they consist of a rather thick column, the base of which forms an adhesive disc, while its summit, which is also a disc, shows a puckered mouth in the centre surrounded by several rows of tentacles. The tentacles are sometimes short and stout, sometimes long and slender; they are generally adorned with vivid or delicate colours, often disposed in rings and contrasting beautifully with the colours of the stem and disc. In their expanded state they present a close resemblance to a flower, and indeed vie with many flowers in beauty; hence the name of Animal Flowers was given to them formerly, and has now given place to that of Sea Anemones, although they are rather to be compared with those composite flowers in which numerous petal-like flowerets radiate from a central disc. When contracted, the Sea Anemones resemble soft knobs or buttons, with a depression at the top.
In describing the Stony Corals, the fact has been mentioned that the Polyps, which may be regarded as the architects of those extraordinary structures, are very similar to the Sea Anemones. In the latter, the cavity surrounding the central stomach is partially divided into chambers, by partitions, which run inwards from the circumference towards the centre; in the Coral Polyps each of these partitions produces a stony plate in its substance, and these plates form the rays which occupy the interior of the Polyp-cell.
The Sea Anemones move slowly along by the action of their adhering disc, somewhat in the same way that a snail or slug crawls upon the ground. Their food is obtained by means of the tentacles which give them their beautiful flower-like character, and to render them efficient organs for this purpose they are endowed with a singular provision. The skin of the tentacles, and, indeed, of most parts of the Sea Anemone is filled with little cells or vesicles, each containing a spiral thread, which when touched instantly darts forth, and penetrates the body coming in contact with it. In this way, if a worm, a small fish, or any other soft animal touches the tentacles of an Anemone, it is instantly transfixed with innumerable delicate darts, which not only assist the tentacles in holding the destined prey, but also seem to exercise a sort of numbing influence upon the victim, deadening his struggles and rendering him an easy conquest. He is then speedily passed by the tentacles to the orifice of the mouth, and swallowed without mercy.
One of the commonest kinds of these Polyps is the Mesembryanthemum (Actinia Mesembryanthemum), a large, usually liver-coloured species, with a row of blue warts round the margin just outside the tentacles. It is found abundantly on the rocks of our Southern coast especially. The Thick-horned Anemone (Actinia or Brusodes crassicornis) is another large and fine species, usually of a red colour, with very thick tentacles, which are generally white with pinkish bands.—The Sea Cereus (Anthea Cereus) has long slender tentacles, which are not retracted in the same way as those of the Sea Anemones generally. The tentacles are usually tipped with a pink or purple tint; they are constantly waving about in the water in search of prey; and instantly seize upon any creature that passes over them.—The Parasitic Anemone (Actinia parasitica) and the Cloak Anemone (Adamsia palliata) always attach themselves to univalve shells which are occupied by Hermit Crabs.
Jelly Fishes
The animals commonly known as Jelly Fishes are free-swimming Radiata; they were described by Cuvier and most succeeding naturalists under the name of Acalephæ, from a Greek word signifying “nettles,” because many of them produce a stinging sensation when they come in contact with the skin. Their name in several languages signifies “Sea Nettles.” The Acalephæ of Cuvier are now regarded as belonging to the same class as the Hydroid Polyps.
The common Medusa (Medusa amita), which may serve as an example of this group, is found in great abundance round our coasts; it is of a circular form, convex above, concave beneath, like an umbrella, the stick of which is represented by a thick stalk, containing the mouth and stomach, and terminated by four long arms for seizing the animal’s food. The skin of these, and of the body and its appendages generally is full of the thread-cells described as occurring in the Sea Anemones, and it is to these that the stinging power of the Medusæ is due. The motion of the Medusæ through the water is effected by the alternate expansion and contraction of its umbrella, which is slightly inclined in the direction towards which the creature is moving, and it is a most beautiful sight to look down upon a fleet of these animals, all advancing in the same direction at a depth of two or three feet in the water, as may often be seen in fine weather at the mouths of our rivers.
At first sight it may be thought that the Medusæ have but little in common with the Hydroid or any other Polyps, but it has been fully proved by late researches that the young animal produced from the egg of the Medusa is a regular Polyp, which adheres by its base, and obtains its food by the agency of a crown of tentacles surrounding its mouth; nay, it even propagates in this form by pushing out buds exactly in the manner described in the case of the fresh-water Hydra. In course of time, however, the body of this Polyp becomes elongated, and its surface is marked into rings, the grooves separating which gradually become deeper until the whole body breaks up into a number of saucer-like segments, each of which becomes a Medusa. How fully does this extraordinary mode of reproduction show that the wonders of the Creator are no less striking in the lowest than in the highest of his creatures, and that for all, from the highest to the lowest, the same prescient care has been exercised, the same goodness evinced. Verily, we may follow the pious example of the great Linnæus, and exclaim with the Psalmist, “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all.”
Appendix of Fabulous Animals
Our object in the previous pages has been to combine interest with amusement, and to present truth unmixed with fable. Yet considering that some fictitious animals are conventionally recognised in poetry and painting, we have thought it desirable to subjoin an account of them. The Sphinx, the Dragon, the Unicorn, Pegasus, and the Centaur, are so familiar to us, both in sculpture and fable, that some notice of these mythological creations seems indispensable.
Providence has ordered, that as the plains of Egypt are not visited by showers, they should be fertilized by the overflowing of the Nile, which takes place annually, a little after the summer solstice. This phenomenon, the source of unfailing fertility in the vales of the Delta up to Memphis, and around the bases of the majestic and venerable pyramids, was of the greatest importance to the people of Misraim, from the far-famed Pharos to the frontiers of Ethiopia. It was therefore their interest to calculate correctly the season, the month, and nearly the hour, when the flood should begin; the more so, as the sudden invasion of the waters was dangerous to the inhabitants of the low lands, the meadows, and the fens, and often destroyed the cottages, and drowned the flocks and the improvident villagers. The star Sirius was remarked to emerge from the blazing halo of the sun about the time of the rising of the Nile; it was a warning, and was accordingly called the Dog-star, as if barking from the heavens to apprise the inhabitants of the valleys of the impending rise of the waters. The Egyptian astronomers, to mark the period, combined the signs of the zodiac answering to the two months during which the overflowing took place. These signs happening to be Leo and Virgo, the mystical fancy of the ancient Egyptians united them in one, and thus formed the figure of the Sphinx, which has the head and breast of a woman, and the body of a lion. This was a great enigma to the Greeks and Phœnicians who travelled to Egypt; they saw the monster, but could not comprehend its meaning. On returning to their respective countries, they invented the fable of the Sphinx offering riddles at the gates of Thebes, and destroying those who could not unravel them; having probably been told by the supercilious sages of that nation, that they who could not guess the meaning of the Sphinx were to forfeit their life in atonement for their ignorance. Long afterwards, the real sense of the symbol was forgotten, and Egypt in her superstition began to worship the emblem, of which innumerable figures still exist in that once flourishing country.
The Sphinx has been introduced in heraldry to adorn the gorgets of those general officers who distinguished themselves against the French on the banks of the Nile; it has also been adopted as an ornament in various decorations; and two specimens, exquisitely wrought, are seen on the front wall of Syon House, at Brentford, the seat of his Grace the Duke of Northumberland.
This chimerical figure is generally represented as sitting and at rest; a graceful attitude adopted by Egyptian sculptors, and imitated by the Greeks and Romans.
This fabulous animal, which figures largely in ancient romances, was supposed to be the tutelary genius of fresh-water springs in the bosom of dark forests and enchanted rocks. Dragons were harnessed to the car of Ceres; they were the guardians of the golden apples of the Hesperides, and of the golden fleece of Colchis; and in several parts of the world set as protectors to the carbuncles and other precious stones hidden at the bottom of wells and fountains. They are represented as scaly serpents, with webbed feet, and with wings similar to those of a bat; having been, it seems, originally a hieroglyphic emblem of the dangerous influence of an undue combination of air and water. Thus the serpent Python was the allegory of a pestilence, originating from a union of mephitic air and moisture. They have been long supporters to the arms of the city of London, as if the guardians of the wealth which commerce brings hither from all the parts of the world. Four of them are placed in fanciful attitudes, and beautifully carved, on the pedestal of the monument of London.
This fabulous animal somewhat resembles the dragon, only that, instead of four, it has two legs, which are webbed, and armed with claws. There is no doubt that this imaginary being was originally conceived in the brains of the poets and romancers, in times of chivalry, when the Crusaders overran the plains of Palestine and Assyria. The heat of the climate in some vales at the foot of the mountains, which intersect the deserts of those countries, was favourable to the breeding of all sorts of serpents, some of an immense size. The European soldiers of Godfrey and Richard, unaccustomed to such sights, were easily frightened, whenever they met those monsters on the sedgy banks of small lakes, under the shade of cedars and palm-trees, where they appeared as if posted to guard the sacred waters, so precious in so hot a country; and magnified in their idle tales, when inactive in camps, the bulk of the serpent they had seen. The castle of Lusignan, in the province of Poitou, was supposed to contain one of those winged serpents. It is a very ancient armorial bearing, and now stands as supporter to the arms of several illustrious houses.
The fruitful imagination of man knows hardly any bounds. The animal which bears the name of Basilisk was originally supposed to be a serpent, with a sort of comb or crown on its head: but that was not sufficiently marvellous. It was supposed also to be hatched from a cock’s egg, upon which a snake had performed the office of incubation; and the animal had the head of a cock, and the wings and tail of a dragon. Hatched near a spring of water, the common resort of serpents, it was asserted that, frightened at his own extraordinary shape, he soon precipitated himself to the bottom, whence, by the mortal look from his fiery eyes, he had the power of killing whoever dared to gaze at him. There are no less than four kinds of basilisks mentioned by various authors. One burnt up everything near him, and reduced the place he lived in to a complete desert; another kind had the power of producing a stony rigidity in whoever looked at them, which was followed by death; or the gazers’ flesh fell from their bones. The basilisk was said to be killed by carrying a mirror to its lair; and the creature encountering the reflection of its own baleful glance, was killed with its own weapons.
Was originally an emblem of life. It was used to adorn funeral monuments and sepulchres. The upper part of this allegorical animal resembles the eagle, the king of the birds, and the rest the lion, the king of beasts; which is said to imply that man, who lives upon the earth, cannot subsist without air. In later times it was supposed that the Gryphon was posted as a jailor at the entrance of enchanted castles and caverns where subterraneous treasures were concealed. Milton compares Satan in his flight to the Gryphon, in the following beautiful passage:
“As when a Gryphon through the wilderness,
With winged course o’er hill or moory dale,
Pursues the Arimaspian, who, by stealth,
Had from his wakeful custody purloined
The guarded gold; so eagerly the fiend,
O’er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way,
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.”
The Arimaspians were Asiatic wizards, who, by magic, used to obtain a knowledge of the places where treasures lay hidden. Their incessant wranglings with the Gryphons about gold-mines are mentioned by Herodotus and Pliny. Lucan says that they inhabited Scythia, and adorned their hair with gold; that they had but one eye in the middle of the forehead, and lived on the banks of the gold-sanded river Arimaspes.
Virgil, in his eighth Pastoral, mentions this animal as if really existing, but does not give us any description of it; and Claudian, in his Epistle to Serena, alludes to the supposed fact of their keeping watch over masses of gold in the bosom of northern mountains.
The Phœnix
Herodotus, Pliny, and nearly sixty other classical authors, have related marvellous stories of this bird, all of which are of course fabulous. The Phœnix, they say, inhabits the plains of Arabia, and is about the size of an eagle, with gorgeous plumage of purple and gold. He is the only one of his kind in the world. At the approach of death, he builds himself a nest of aromatic herbs, and on it yields up his life. From his marrow proceeds a worm, which shortly becomes a young Phœnix, whose first duty is to discharge the obsequies of his sire. For this purpose he collects a quantity of myrrh, which he moulds into the shape of an egg, as large as he can conveniently carry, and then scooping it out, he deposits the body of his sire in the inside. Having stopped it up again with myrrh, he carries it to the Temple of the Sun in Egypt, where he devoutly places it on the altar. This is the only time that he is seen during his life, which lasts five hundred years. According to others, after preparing a funeral pile of rich herbs and spices, he burns himself, but from his ashes revives in all the freshness of youth.
From late mythological researches it is conjectured that the Phœnix is a symbol of five hundred years, of which the conclusion was celebrated by a solemn sacrifice, in which the figure of a bird was burnt. His being restored to youth signifies that the new springs from the old.
The Mermaid, or Siren
The existence of this animal, half a woman and half a fish, has long been talked of, believed, disbelieved, and doubted. Homer is the first who speaks of such beings, which he styles Sirens; but we do not find that he gives any description of their shape; however, it was soon asserted that the Sirens were, as Horace, in his “Art of Poetry,” describes them:
“Above, a lovely maid; a fish below.”
The Sirens were three sisters, whose voice was so delightfully harmonious and enticing, that no resistance could be made against its powerful charms; but “’twas death to hear,” for they led the navigators and their ships to certain destruction among the rocks that bordered the dangerous coasts which they inhabited, near the shores of Italy.
The belief in the existence of Mermaids has been current at different periods; indeed, some years ago, several persons made depositions before a magistrate, that they had seen Mermaids come out of the sea and play on the rocks, but that they sprang into their element before they were able to secure them.
A creature, said to be a dried Mermaid, was exhibited in London about the year 1828; but it was afterwards discovered to be the body of a monkey artfully attached to the dried tail of a salmon.
The Kraken
This creature is another fabulous inhabitant of the sea. It is said to be three or four miles in breadth, and to live generally at the bottom of the sea, on the Norway coast. When it moves the commotion of the sea is so violent that it upsets boats and even small ships; and when it comes to the surface, it is generally mistaken for an island.
This is the Dolphin of heraldry, and as fabulous an animal as any here mentioned, as may be seen by comparing it with the figure of the real Dolphin, given with the description in a former part of this work. This fish was said to curl up his back to carry his favourites over the seas without wetting them; and to assume the most brilliant colours in dying, changing from a bright blue to as bright a yellow, and then to red and green, &c. &c.
This is another offspring of the lively and fruitful fancy of man. It is represented as a compound of the horse and stag, the head and body belong to the former, and the hoofs to the latter, while the horn, the tufts, and the tail are anomalies. This animal holds a high rank in heraldry, and is one of the supporters of the royal arms of England.
The Unicorn is often mentioned in the Scriptures, and by many commentators is supposed to be the rhinoceros. From the book of Job we learn that it was not only an animal of considerable strength, but also of a very fierce and intractable disposition—“Will the Unicorn be willing to serve thee, or abide by thy crib? Canst thou bind the Unicorn with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys for thee? Wilt thou trust him, because his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labour to him? Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed, and gather it into thy barn?” Ch. xxxix. ver. 9—11. In the book of Psalms, xcii. ver. 10. “My horn shalt thou exalt like the horn of a Unicorn.”
The Pegasus
Another liberty has been taken with the horse. Mythology has added wings to its elegant figure, and called it Pegasus. This animal, it is said, sprang from the blood of Medusa, when Perseus had cut off her head; and immediately afterwards flew upwards towards heaven, but stopped short, and alighted on Mount Helicon, where he struck the ground with his foot, and instantly the fountain Hippocrene burst from the ground. During his residence on Mount Helicon, Pegasus became a great favourite with the Muses, who resided occasionally on that lofty mountain; and still, when any one attempts extravagant flights of poetry, he is said to have mounted on his Pegasus, as it was difficult to approach the Muses when raised so high. On the contrary, the Castalian fountain on Mount Parnassus was more accessible, and inspired poetry of a gentler nature. But to return to Pegasus; he was at length tamed by Neptune, or Minerva, and lent by the latter to Bellerophon, to enable him to conquer the horrid monster called the Chimera, which was always shifting its place, and vomiting forth flames and smoke. After the victory was achieved, Bellerophon attempted to fly up to heaven; but Pegasus threw his rider, and flying up to heaven without him, was changed into the constellation of stars which still bears his name. Pegasus is sometimes confounded with the Hippogriph, or Ippogrifo of Ariosto, which is often seen in coats of arms.
The Centaur
Like the Sphinx, this creature is a compound of the brute and human form, exhibiting the body of a man united to that of a horse, the former rising from the chest of the latter. Absurd as such a combination must appear to the anatomist, and ill adapted as it seems for agility, it is not wholly devoid of grace, and is very frequently met with in antique sculpture. According to Grecian mythology, these beings inhabited Thessaly; and poetry has celebrated their combats with Hercules, Theseus, and Pirithous, the latter of whom was the leader of the Lapithæ, a people who vanquished the Centaurs. Their fabulous existence had its origin in that love of the marvellous, which is always found to exist in the earlier stages of society. Hence the natives of Thessaly being distinguished for their skill in horsemanship, at a time when their neighbours were unacquainted with the art of riding, they would be described as combining the powers both of the human and the equine race; in the same manner as some of the American tribes, when they first beheld the Spaniards mounted on horses, mistook them for a different race of beings from themselves, supposing them to be half men and half quadrupeds. It is by such errors that fiction, whether poetry or painting be its vehicle, creates those fanciful beings and shapes which delight the imagination.
The Satyr
Although the Satyr of the ancient poets can hardly be termed an animal, as the human form predominates, he may be introduced here as our final example of fabulous creatures. Satyrs and Fauns are represented as men with goats’ legs and horns, and were supposed to be the attendants of Bacchus, with whose worship they are generally connected. The idea of such beings was probably derived from some of the larger species of apes. They are described as inhabiting woods and forests, of which they were regarded as the protecting deities. Probably they were partly personifications, intended to express the debasing influence of animal propensities and sensual indulgence: and as nothing tends more than intoxication to reduce man to a level with the brutes, since it deprives reason of all control over the passions, the form of the Satyr may have been ingeniously intended as a visible representation of the degraded state of those who surrender up the noblest prerogative of man. Whether such was really or not the idea of those who first feigned the existence of such creatures, we may very rationally adopt this explanation, and thereby deduce an important moral lesson from what is in itself an extravagant fiction.