depths of the old chalk-ocean teemed with forms as beautiful and
perfect as those, their lineal descendants, which the dredge now
brings up from the Atlantic sea-floor; and if there were - as my
reason tells me that there must have been - final moral causes for
their existence, the only ones which we have a right to imagine are
these - that all, down to the lowest Rhizopod, might delight
themselves, however dimly, in existing; and that the Lord might
delight Himself in them.

Thus, much - alas! how little - about the wonders of the deep. We,
who are no deep-sea dredgers, must return humbly to the wonders of
the shore. And first, as after descending the gap in the sea-wall
we walk along the ribbed floor of hard yellow sand, let me ask you
to give a sharp look-out for a round grey disc, about as big as a
penny-piece, peeping out on the surface. No; that is not it, that
little lump: open it, and you will find within one of the common
little Venus gallina. - The closet collectors have given it some
new name now, and no thanks to them: they are always changing the
names, instead of studying the live animals where Nature has put
them, in which case they would have no time for word-inventing.
Nay, I verify suspect that the names grow, like other things; at
least, they get longer and longer and more jaw-breaking every year.
The little bivalve, however, finding itself left by the tide, has
wisely shut up its siphons, and, by means of its foot and its
edges, buried itself in a comfortable bath of cool wet sand, till
the sea shall come back, and make it safe to crawl and lounge about
on the surface, smoking the sea-water instead of tobacco. Neither
is that depression what we seek. Touch it, and out poke a pair of
astonished and inquiring horns: it is a long-armed crab, who saw
us coming, and wisely shovelled himself into the sand by means of