young, and even watch over and defend their ova. Pennant informs us, that the river bull-head (Cottus gobio) deposits its spawn in a hole in the gravel, and quits it with reluctance; and Mr. Yarrell was told by an accurate observer, that the species in question "evinces a sort of parental affection for its ova, as a bird for its nest, returning quickly to the spot, and being unwilling to quit it when disturbed." He alludes also to the belief, that the male of the lump-sucker (Cyclopterus lumpus) keeps watch over the ova-guarding them from every ordinary foe with the utmost courage, and if driven from the spot by man, continually "looking back," (does he twist his neck?) and returning ere long to his loved deposit.*

But the prevailing attributes and domestic economy of fishes may be described as exactly the reverse of those of birds. These gay and airy creatures possess the power of surveying distinctly, at a glance, an immeasurable extent of horizon; their acute perception of sound appreciates all intonations, and their glad voices are exquisitely skilled in their production. Though their bills are hard, and their bodies closely covered by down and feathers, they are by no means deficient in the sense of touch. They enjoy all the delights of conjugal and parental affection, and perform their incumbent duties with devotedness and courage. They cherish and defend their offspring, and will sometimes even die in that defence; and of all the

* BRITISH FISHES, vol. i. Introduction, xxiv.

wonderful labours of instinctive art, none is so beautiful as the formation of their mossy dwellings. With what deep and continuous affection does the female brood over her cherished treasures!-how unwearied is the gallant male in his tender assiduities, and with what melodious love does he outpour that rich and varied song by which he seeks to soothe her sedentary task!

"Over his own sweet voice the stock-dove broods!"

But close at hand, on that umbrageous bough, sits the fond partner of his joys and sorrows, so that it is in no spirit of selfish solitary musing that he ever murmurs by woodland stream or shadowhaunted brook, 66 a music sweeter than their own." The slender winged and glossy plumaged swallow, which skims the verdure of the new-mown meadow, or dimples the surface of the breezeless lake,-the ponderous but giant pinioned eagle, winging his way from distant isles, o'er waters glittering with redundant life,—the proud far-sighted falcon, which launching from some hoar cliff, or lighteningscathed peak,

"Doth dally with the wind, and scorn the sun,"

-the wild and fearful lapwing, with graceful crest and dark dilated eye, are each and all enslaved for many a long enduring season by this love of offspring, and toil in its support from dewy morning until latest eve.

But it is far otherwise with our voiceless dwellers in the deep, who exhibit but few attachments, are

conversant with no interchanging language, and cherish no warm affections. Constructing no dwelling, they merely shelter themselves from danger among the cavernous rocks of the ocean, in the silent depths of lakes, or beneath the murky shade of the overhanging banks of rivers; and the cravings of hunger seem alone to exercise a frequent or influential action over their monotonous movements. We must not, however, conceive that the life of fishes is not one of enjoyment, for we know that the Great Creatorcareth for all his creatures ;" and it ought perhaps rather to be said that we cannot appreciate the nature of their feelings, than that they are in any way fore-doomed to a negation of pleasure. Assuredly, however, the hand of nature has been most prodigal in bestowing on their external aspect every variety of adornment. Their special forms are infinite, their proportions often most elegant, their colours lively and diversified—and nothing seems wanting, either in their shape or structure, to excite the unfeigned admiration of mankind. Indeed, it almost appears as if this prodigality of beauty was intended solely for such an end. The brightness of metallic splendour-the sparkling brilliancy of precious gems—the milder effulgence of the hues of flowers, all combine to signalise fishes as among the most beautiful objects of creation. When newly withdrawn from their native element, or still gliding submerged amid its liquid coolness, their colours fixed or iridescent, are seen mingling in spots, or bands, or broader flashes, always elegant and symmetrical, sometimes richly contrasted,

sometimes gradually softened into each other, and in all cases harmonising with a chaste fulness of effect, which Titian and Rubens might envy, but could never equal. For what reason, then, it has been asked, has all this adornment been so lavishly bestowed on creatures which can scarcely perceive each other amid the dim perpetual twilight of the deep? Shakspeare has already said, that there are "more things in heaven and earth, than are dream't of in our philosophy;" and we fear it is no answer to the foregoing question to add, that the same observation applies with even greater truth to the "waters beneath the earth.”

SECTION XIII.

The Circulating System of Fishes.

IN common with warm-blooded animals, fishes are provided with a complete circulation for the body, and with another equally complete for the organs of respiration, and with a particular abdominal circulation, terminating at the liver by means of the vena porta; but their peculiar character, so far as regards the sanguiferous system, consists in this, that the branchial circulation alone is provided at its base with a muscular apparatus or heart, corresponding to the right auricle and ventricle of the higher classes, while nothing of the kind exists at the base of the circulating system of

the body; in other words, the left auricle and ventricle are entirely wanting-the branchial veins changing into arteries without any muscular envelope. The muscular apparatus of their circulation is composed of the auricle, the ventricle, and the bulb of the pulmonary artery, and the auricle itself is preceded by a large sinus, in which all the veins of the body terminate,-a structure which gives rise to four cavities separated by restrictions, into which the blood must flow in its progress from the body to the gills or branchiæ.

SECTION XIV.

The Respiration of Fishes.

Ir is by an almost infinite subdivision of the vessels over the surface of these branchiæ, that the blood of fishes becomes subjected to the influence of an ambient fluid. This fluid is of course water, which is made to flow incessantly between the leaves of the branchiæ, by the movement of the jaws, and of the opercular and hyoidean apparatus. This mode of respiration is equally necessary to fishes as the direct respiration of air is to other animals; but the action of water on the blood is much more feeble than that of air. If the portion of air which is held in solution, or mingled with the water, be expelled by ebullition, fishes will not live, and many species are obliged to rise frequently