336 THE BIRD WATCHER 
whom every thing — ype grandest sights of nature— 
come as disappointments, so much superior to them 
have been their own before-imaginings of what they 
were going to be. Well, 1 am not one of these. 
With Miranda, I can say, “my desires are, then, 
most humble.” The sea, the Alps, the Himalayas, the 
Vale of Cashmere, the Falls of the Zambesi, the 
Zambesi itself, have all been good enough for me, as 
now these seals are, even. It is a humiliating reflec- 
tion, but it is better to admit inferiority than affect 
the other thing—so I admit it freely. 
Returning, now, to these seals, I have spoken of 
their great activity in the water, and yet | find myself 
wondering whether, on the principles of evolution, it 
ought not to be greater still. This craves a short 
disquisition. Give heed, then, ye puffins, ringing me 
round like a vast and attentive audience. ‘“‘ Lend me 
your ears.” You shall know my thoughts on the 
matter ; a lecture for nothing—for with you I am not 
shy—so “perpend.” Is it not a somewhat curious 
thing, mark me, that, throughout nature, we find beings 
that are but partially adapted to some particular mode 
of existence, excelling others in it that, both by habit 
and structure, one might think would be altogether 
their superiors? Thus the seal, otter, penguin, cor- 
morant, etc., creatures which, in comparison with fish, 
may be said to be but clumsily fitted for the water, are 
yet able to make the latter their prey. The reason, 
however—at least, I suppose so—lies in their greater 
size, since even the fleetest fishes cannot be expected 
