THE MOLE. 23 



a fiery activity which seems quite inconsistent with its dull as- 

 pect and seemingly inert form. The absence of any external in- 

 dication of eyes communicates a peculiar dullness to the creature's 

 look, and the peculiar formation of the fore limbs gives an inde- 

 scribable awkwardness to its gait. 



I have always taken much interest in this animal, and have 

 watched many of its habits, as far as can be done under the very 

 untoward circumstances that always must exist when the animal 

 to be watched is essentially subterranean in its habits. The Mole 

 can not develop its nature unless it is buried below the surface of 

 the ground, and when it is there, we can not see it. Many ma- 

 rine and aquatic animals can be tolerably watched by placing 

 them in the aquarium ; but when they take to burrowing, they 

 put an effectual stop to investigation. 



To catch a living Mole without injuring it is not an easy task, 

 and when it is caught, the duty of supplying it with food entails 

 so severe a labor, and necessitates such very early rising, that no 

 one can hope for success who does not combine perseverance, pa- 

 tience, and resolution. 



Dull and sombre as the Mole appears to be, it is by far the 

 fiercest and most active mammal within the British Isles. In- 

 deed, so remarkable is it for both those qualities, that I doubt 

 whether the great ferae of tropical climates can equal it either in 

 ferocity, activity, or voracity. "We need not pity the Mole for the 

 dull life which, we suppose it to lead below the ground. There 

 the Mole is happy, and there only can it develop its various ca- 

 pabilities. We must not judge other beings by ourselves. We 

 are apt to envy the swallow for its sunny flight through the air 

 in chase of flies, and to pity the Mole for its darkling passage 

 through the earth in chase of worms. Yet, there is no doubt but 

 that both beings receive equal pleasure in carrying out the object 

 of their existence, and that the Mole feels no less gratification in 

 the capture of a worm, than the swallow in the capture of a fly. 

 Such, at all events, is the inference which is to be drawn from 

 the manner in which the Mole acts when it has seized a worm ; 

 for no one can witness the active eagerness with which it flings 

 itself upon its prey, and the evident enjoyment with which it 

 consumes its hapless victim, without perceiving that the creature 

 is exultantly happy. 



The notion that worms must be miserable is a very natural 

 one. A very little boy of my acquaintance was lately excusing 



