indescribable phenomenon. I was never weary of watching it, and often, after leaving my usual evening-seat by the taffrail, could not help returning again and again for one more dazzled, earnest gaze.

I first saw those curious and beautiful little animals the Portuguese men-of-war, Physalus pelagicus of naturalists, in about 36° N. lat., and for many days they were very numerous, robbing my work of nearly all my attention in gazing at their elegant forms and colours. I had a few caught, to examine them more closely. They consist of a flat, thin, transparent membrane, from one and a half to two inches long, of an oval shape; and on the upper side of this, down the centre, runs a similar membrane standing erect, at right angles with the flat one. A whole wafer laid on the table, and the half of another placed edgewise upon it (the straight side downwards, of course), will give some idea of the form of the animal, or rather of the tiny ship's deck and sail. The under part is furnished with several rows of tentacula spreading out like a beautiful flower, varying in colour in different specimens, and sometimes even in one, through many shades of blue, pink, and soft purple. A slight coloured film also envelops the transparent membrane above described, giving it a beautiful iridescent appearance when sailing along in the sunshine. By putting them in a basin of sea-water, I was enabled to keep and observe them for some time; but when taken out of their natural element, the delicate tentacula shrink and dissolve away very soon; though with care the thin glassy membrane with its fragile sail may be permanently preserved by drying.

Their method of navigation is not the least interesting point to notice in these fairy-mariners. I have frequently observed one sailing complacently along, his arms, like the many oars of an ancient galley, spread around him, and his delicate glassy sail set full to the breeze; when a sudden puff of wind has overset him altogether, and plunged the whole fabric under water: the next instant he is up again as gay as before, but at first only presents his sail edgewise to the wind, and then seems to tack about very cautiously, as if to try how much canvas he can carry in safety. This may not be really the case, but I have watched many do exactly as I describe, and must therefore believe in their nautical skill. Like other creatures of their class,

they no doubt feed on minute mollusca and animalcula, which they entrap in their numerous tentacula, or arms. Their lower side very much resembles some of the beautiful sea anemones* so common on rocks covered at high-water on this coast,† and, from what I remember, there are similar ones on those of England.‡

Some poor little swallows, apparently worn out with fatigue, alighted on the rigging one day, and hovered about the ship. The sailors caught and tried to feed some of them; and one that flew into our cabin through the stern-window, I endeavoured to tempt with soaked biscuit, crumbs, and water, but could not prevail on my poor little patient to eat anything. I left him alone, hoping he would grow more assured, but he escaped, and was found lying dead on the deck a day or two after. I imagine the poor birds had either been blown off the land, or, having been baffled by contrary winds in their migratory voyage, had become too much exhausted to fly any farther: no doubt many thousands of them must perish at sea from similar causes. I have heard Mr. Meredith mention that on his voyage home (to England) in 1838, a beautiful little bird, of a species he was quite unacquainted with, flew on board the ship, and fed greedily on soaked biscuit; so greedily indeed, forgetting the needful precautions to be observed by starving people, that he literally died from repletion.

Finding we should pass tolerably near Teneriffe, I became extremely anxious for a good day-view of the Peak, and only feared sailing by in the night and losing it. We certainly passed by day, about midway between Teneriffe and the "Great Canary,' but the mountain was thickly veiled in clouds, nearly to the

* Actinia anemone, or Actinia calendula, probably. † Oyster Bay, Van Diemen's Land.

I believe De Blainville mentions six species of Physalus; and from having seen descriptions of P. pelagicus differing in many points from my own observation of the animal, I am induced to believe that various species are described as the same by different persons. In the Tasmanian Journal of Science,' a paper (by A. Sinclair, Esq., Surgeon, R. N.) descriptive of a Physalus pelagicus, mentions, among other features I did not observe in it, the property of stinging severely, possessed by the tentacula, and retained even after the animal has been dried; also that the water in which it had floated had caused violent pain and inflammation in the hands and arms of two boys employed to wash out the tub. As I repeatedly handled the specimens I had caught, both before and after death, and received no injury, there must be an essential difference in the species.

water's edge, so that a mere shoal or sandbank had been as fine an object. If I could only have seen the merest point of the summit, I had not cared; I sat "like (im-)patience on a monument," wailing for one clear loophole in those gloomy morose clouds, but in vain-and I still have to take on credit all the grand and inflated descriptions of other more fortunate travellers. As I did not at the time think I should ever require any memoranda of our monotonous voyage, I kept no regular "log-book," or journal, which now I much regret, as I am without exact data for many occurrences. About the beginning of July we spoke a homeward-bound vessel, the Cherub, and gladly availed ourselves of the opportunity to send letters home. The prudent ones had all letters ready written, but I confess I was not one of that number, and a few hurried words of love and greeting were all the homeward-bound Cherub bore from me.

There is something peculiarly grand, and withal touching, in that meeting of ships on the wide ocean. People who never heard of each other before, who might live in the same street of the same city for years without knowing each other's face, thus meeting on that trackless highway of the world, the sea, look on one another as if some mysterious communion between them were at once established. I do not mean individually, but generally, for, although I might not accurately observe the face of any one human being on board that vessel, yet I felt as if they were friends whom we had met; and as she afterwards went on her way, and we on ours, I looked after her lessening sails with real regret.

After being for days and weeks at sea without any object to break the line of the horizon, that seems to shut in the same eternal circle of water, it is absolutely a treat, an indescribable delight to the eye, to see so beautiful an object as a vessel in full sail gradually nearing, and so occupying a greater portion of the wearisome sea-view. Everything about her is busily discussed, and not unfrequently the inexperienced are gravely informed that she is an "ill-looking craft," "a rakish-looking brig," "very much the cut of a privateer," &c., and mysterious hints are given about muskets, cutlasses, and ammunition, till the well-known ensign with its union-jack is seen spreading to the breeze as they hoist it on board the stranger, and in reply to “ Ship ahoy!

What ship's that?" a gruff English accent, made thrice gruffer and rougher by bawling into a speaking-trumpet, informs your that the suspicious craft is the Mary or Betsey, or some other good old household name, of London or Liverpool, bound from ; whereupon the captain of our ship returns a like series of explanations, latitudes and longitudes are compared, and the interview closes.

As we neared the line, I confess I used to pay most especial attention to the various conjectures raised on the approach of a strange sail, especially if those learned in such matters seemed suspicious of her aspect or manœuvres; but I am most happy to say I have no thrilling narratives of fearful engagements or providential escapes to relate, as we were never molested by any of the piratical fraternity. This was fortunate, as our ship, like most merchantmen, carried her guns snugly and securely stowed away in the hold along with her cargo; which arrangement, though doubtless originating in a praiseworthy care of her means of defence, was not exactly calculated to facilitate the use of them, had it been needed. A few rusty muskets, and some pistols of most pacific temperaments, were ostentatiously ranged round the mizen-mast in the mess-cabin; but, like the broken teacups on the alehouse chimney-piece, were, I fear, only "kept for show."

Porpoises were a frequent source of amusement to me; for I exceedingly enjoy watching their ponderous gaiety as they leap and flounce about, and the agility with which they bound out of the water is most astonishing. We often saw them leap as high as the fore-yard, and I used to think they would fairly alight on the forecastle; but I fancy they knew better than to trust their lives and oleaginous bodies to the tender mercies of the sailors, who would infallibly have despatched and eaten them very speedily. Prodigious shoals of them often crossed our track, and might be seen in thousands gambolling as far as their black bodies were visible above the water. My admiration of their elephantine frolics became so well known, that if I chanced to be below when a shoal was seen, I immediately received a message informing me of the event, and lost no time in hastening to see the sport.

What a contrast to the unwieldy monsters I have just mentioned are the elegant little flying-fish (Exocetus volitans)!

I had no idea they were so beautiful, having been misled by bad engravings, which represented them as thin, shrivelled, starvedlooking things, while in reality they are beautifully proportioned, and quite plump, with shining bluish silvery scales, that flash brightly as they glance in the sun. They are about nine or ten inches long, the pectoral fins, or wings, about six inches, and capable of expanding to about three inches and a half at the broadest part; and from tip to tip, when spread, must measure above twelve inches. The eyes are remarkably large and fine, giving an expression to the head more like the glance of a bird than a fish; "fishy eyes" being proverbially dull and lustreless. Only one fell on board, which was brought to me, and, in justice to the memory of the poor defunct, I must confess that, after preserving his wings and tail, I found his remains very delicate eating.

So many arguments have been held with respect to these curious creatures, as to whether they really fly, that is, flutter and turn in the air, or merely leap from the top of one wave to fall on the top of another, that nothing but positive proof could induce me to say a word on the subject. I have attentively observed them rise from the water, flutter their fins rapidly, not unlike a lark when first rising; then sail along a short time, turn, at various angles from their course, whether in a breeze or calm; and, after being many seconds in the air, dip again into the sea, preparatory to another flight. I have continually mistaken them for birds, being quite deceived by their fluttering motion, so different from what I should have supposed any fish capable of. Some very eminent naturalists affirm that they can neither turn nor flutter; having seen them do both repeatedly, I am greatly inclined to differ from them in opinion, and to suppose that they must have observed these beautiful little creatures under some circumstances which prevented or disguised their real move

ments.

As

With all their beauty and accomplishments, the poor little flying-fish seem to lead a most restless and unhappy life. they swim through the sea, the swift and hungry boneto pursues them with a keen and deadly purpose, seeming quite as well aware as myself of their delicate flavour; the dolphin also wages war against them; and the moment they quit the water to