To sea! to sea! the calm is o'er,
The wanton water leaps in sport,
And rattles down the pebbly shore,
The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort,
And unseen mermaid's pearly song
Comes bubbling up, the weeds among.
Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar:
To sea to sea! the calm is o'er.

To sea to sea! our white-winged bark
Shall billowing cleave its watery way,
And with its shadow, fleet and dark,

Break the caved Tritons' azure day,

Like mountain eagle soaring light

O'er antelopes on Alpine height.

The anchor heaves! The ship swings free!
Our sails swell full! To sea! to sea!

WHALES are very commonly regarded as fishes. For they are born in the sea, they live in the sea, they find their food in the sea; and, if they ever get into too shallow water or be cast on shore, they are unable to move back into the water, and soon perish of hunger. The tail is like the tail of a fish; and it is almost the only means of propelling the animal through the water. The limbs, which hardly give any help in swimming, but rather seem to keep the huge beast from rolling over on his back, are very like the fins of fish. But then the

whale has no gills, as fishes have; he must rise now and again to the surface of the water in order to breathe; if you could keep him under water long enough, you would drown him. A whale can be drowned! Now an animal that lives in the water and yet can be drowned is not a right fish. And if we were to consider all the qualities of whales and also all the qualities of fishes, we should see that the whale is so different that we cannot regard him as a fish at all.

When the whale comes to the surface to get fresh air, he sends forth from his nostrils or "blow-holes a great column of mixed water and vapour. It is like a fountain playing. The water is spouted upwards with much force, and the noise is heard at a considerable distance. Sometimes the column rises as high as twenty feet. The animal cannot turn his head, because his neck is so thick, or rather he has no neck at all; so the "blowholes" are conveniently placed in the upper part of the head, and thus the whale does not need to raise his body out of the water.

The breathing of the whale is yet more different from the breathing of horses and elephants and other such animals more or less like him. How is it that he is able to dive down to a very great depth, and to remain a long time under the surface without breathing more air? The horse or the elephant could not take a good breath and then have done with breathing for a long time; if they were to dive down with the whale, they would be drowned long before he would think of coming up for more air. The reason is this: the whale has the

means of carrying down with him an immense supply of fresh blood, while these animals have no such supply. They breathe quickly, taking into the blood only so much air as will serve for a second or two; the whale has a large reserve of blood, contained in vessels within and about his chest, which he freshens with air when he comes up, and which enables him to remain down in the water for a very long time.

The whale descends to very great depths. It has been said that if a piece of wood were to be sunk as deep, it would be so filled with water that it would be too heavy to float. The ears and the nostrils are protected by a sort of valves, which cover the openings tightly and keep out the water. The skin is also suited to resist the strong pressure of the water in the depths of the sea. It is threefold. First, there is the outer, hairless skin; second, the layer of skin that contains the matter giving colour to the animal; and third, the true skin, which is a wonderful net-work of fibres, and contains a vast quantity of oily matter. This last layer is known as the blubber. It varies in thickness from a few inches to nearly two feet. It is most elastic, and thus prevents the waves from crushing the body of the whale to pieces.

The tail of the whale is a terrible thing. In a large animal, it may be five or six feet long, and it is often more than twenty feet broad. It is set crosswise upon the body, and sweeps up and down as it propels the whale through the water. The fibres possess such immense power that they are able to lift the largest

whale clean out of the sea. It is rather amusing to think of such an enormous beast, perhaps eighty feet long, jumping up out of the water and falling into it again with a crash like thunder.

THE Greenland whale is the kind that draws so many ships, year after year, to the northern seas, to hunt it for its bone and blubber. It is an enormous beast. At full growth it measures about seventy feet in length, and from thirty to forty feet round the middle. The colour is black above and white below; and the skin has the soft appearance of velvet, from the constant oozing of oil through the outer skin. The head makes about one-third part of the whole bulk of the animal. The open jaws resemble a cavern; within them, it has been said that a ship's jolly-boat might float; in a large whale the yawning space is about sixteen feet long, six or seven feet wide, and ten or twelve feet high.

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