and the nostrils are so formed that they can be effectually closed while the creature is submerged beneath the surface of the water, and opened as soon as it rises for the purpose of respiration. At every breath the nostrils open widely, and seem to close again by means of the elasticity of the substance of which they are composed. The ears are also furnished with a peculiar structure for the purpose of resisting the entrance of water.

8. The teeth of seals are very remarkable, and admirably adapted for seizing and retaining the slippery prey. The canine teeth are long, sharp, and powerful, and the molar teeth are covered with long and sharp points of various sizes; so that, when once caught in the grip of these formidable weapons, there is but scant hope of escape for the fish.

1. I WELL remember the interest and almost awe with which, on my first voyage across the Atlantic, I saw sud

denly emerge from the sea, the immense black oily back of a whale. It was close to the ship, and it rose like a great smooth bank out of the water, gave a sort of wallowing roll, and quietly sank from sight again. The excitement of the momentary sight prevented my attempting to estimate its measurement, besides that the entire animal was not exposed, but it seemed to me nearly as large as the vessel in which I sailed.

2. The species was no doubt the great rorqual, since the whalebone whale is said never to venture beyond the limits of the Arctic Seas. This is the most enormous of all the animals known to inhabit this globe, attaining a length of a hundred feet and even more. The skeleton of one which was stranded near Ostend in 1827, which was subsequently exhibited in Paris and London, measured ninety-five feet. Two specimens have been measured of the length of a hundred and five feet, and Sir Arthur de Capel Brooke

asserts that it is occasionally seen of the enormous dimensions of one hundred and twenty feet.

3. The "right" or whalebone whale, the object of commercial enterprise in the Polar Seas, is little more than half as large as this last-named bulk. Eighty and a hundred feet are mentioned by the earlier writers as occasional dimensions of this species, but these statements are possibly exaggerations, or else the distinction between this

and the rorqual may have been overlooked. A tradition exists of one Other, a Norwegian, of King Alfred's day, who was one of six that had killed sixty whales in two days, of which some were forty-eight, some fifty yards long."

4. At present, nothing like such a length is attained. The late Dr. Scoresby, who was personally engaged in the capture of three hundred and twenty-two whales, never found one of this species that exceeded sixty feet. There is, however, one caveat needful to be remembered; that an animal naturally long-lived, and which probably grows throughout life, is not likely to attain anything like its full dimensions when incessantly persecuted as the whale of the Arctic Seas has been for ages past. However, a whale of sixty feet is estimated to weigh seventy tons, or more than three hundred fat oxen.

5. The sperm-whale or cachalot, whose home is the vast Pacific, from north to south and from east to west, holds a place as to bulk between the whalebone whale and the rorqual. Mr. Beale, who is the authority in all that concerns this animal, gives eighty-four feet as the length of a sperm whale of the largest size, and its diameter twelve or fourteen feet. Of this huge mass, the head occupies about one third of the entire length, with a thickness little inferior to that of the body; while, as this thickness is equal throughout, the front of the head terminating abruptly, as if an immense solid block had been sawn off, this part of the animal bears no small resemblance to an immense box. The appearance of a whale when disturbed, and going what seamen call "head-out," its vast bluff head projected every few seconds out of water, is most extraordinary.

6. When a whaler is near a mother and her young one, he begins by attacking the young whale, which is less

strong, less active and less experienced than its mother. But the mother places herself between her nursling and its aggressor. She pushes the little one with her flippers and her body, so as to accelerate its escape. If, in spite of these encouragements, it cannot swim fast enough, she passes one of her flippers under it, raises it, and, holding it thus firmly fixed against her neck and back, sometimes escapes with it.

7. But her vigilance and activity are often baffled by the terrible arms of man. She then shows her pain by the vivacity and the irregularity of her movements. She does not give up the task of saving her little wounded one. Forgetful of her own safety, she resolutely seizes hold of it again, and receives a mortal wound rather than abandon her young, which she has uselessly defended.