180 GLAUCUS; OR, 
no cumbrous baggage train of force-pumps, hose, 
chloride of lime packets, whitewash, pails or brushes, 
but were every man his own instrument; and, to 
save expense of transit, just grew on Squinado’s 
back. Do you doubt the assertion? Then lift him 
up hither, and putting him gently into that shallow 
jar of salt water, look at him through the hand- 
magnifier, and see how Nature is maxima in 
minimis. 
There he sits, twiddling his feelers (a substitute, 
it seems, with crustacea for biting their nails when 
they are puzzled), and by no means lovely to look 
on in vulgar eyes ;—about the bigness of a man’s 
fist; a round-bodied, spindle-shanked, crusty, prickly, 
dirty fellow, with a villanous squint, too, in thase 
little bony eyes, which never look for a moment: both 
the same way. N ever mind: many a man of genius 
is ungainly enough; and Nature, if you will observe, 
as if to make up to him for his uncomeliness, has 
arrayed him as Solomon in all his glory never 
was arrayed, and so fulfilled one of the proposals 
of old Fourier—that scavengers, chimney-sweeps, 
