202 A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SEAS 



knots per hour very disappointingly dived and was seen no 

 more. 



Much more impressive was the sea serpent observed 

 by Oleus Magnus, Archbishop of Upsala, in Sweden, in 

 the sixteenth century. According to this dignitary the 

 monster often enjoyed a snack by helping itself to live 

 sheep browsing at the cliff edge, and when seriously pressed 

 by hunger did not hesitate to engulf a three-masted schooner 

 with captain, crew and deck fittings complete. To-day 

 when every schoolboy makes some claim to a passing 

 acquaintance with the theory of evolution and a general 

 knowledge of geological processes, such stories seem 

 beyond the bounds of serious consideration. It must be 

 borne in mind, however, that the worthy prelate of Upsala 

 represented the intellectual flower of a period when the 

 commonplaces of modern natural history were undreamed 

 of even by the most erudite. In the sixteenth century, 

 for example, the more progressive of the intelligentsia were 

 at war amongst themselves as to the true origin of fossils 

 of any description. The more advanced thinkers main- 

 tained that fossils developed from moist sea-bearing vapours 

 that rose from the sea and penetrated the earth. To-day 

 we are still hot upon the scent of a monster that has exer- 

 cised man's brains since earliest times. In some respects 

 we are in even worse case than that of the good Archbishop 

 of Upsala, for he was apparently able to give a graphic 

 description of the sea serpent to an engraver of the period, 

 who immortalised the whole stirring episode for the 

 edification of future generations. That such a monster 

 should have existed in the sixteenth century must then 

 have seemed reasonable enough, for Oleus Magnus told 



