THE GLOSS OF NOVELTY. 13 



it, that these Actiniee, which I still hold to be exquisitely 

 bccautiful, and fai- more intrinsically beautiful than very many 

 of the rare species, to obtain which one nearly dislocates one's 

 limbs, ^^Tiggiing through crevices, or runs a risk of " catching 

 one's death " by standing in a pool di'ipped on from a thou 

 sand orifices above — these Actinia"^, I say, are left untouched 

 because they are abundant, and do not demand the chisel. 

 Perverse, ungrateful human nature ! What should we not 

 think of daylight, or of w^oman's patient love, if it %vere not 

 given with such generous abundance ? Ask the prisoner, or 

 the man who has scarcely knowm the mother's ceaseless ten- 

 derness, the wife's surpassing love. The coquette knows 

 this by instinct, and she draws adventurous seekers after her. 

 What a coquette is the Daisy (Actinia hellis), who displays 

 her cinq-spotted bosom, beautiful as Imogen's, in the crystal 

 pool. You are on your knees at once ; but no sooner is your 

 hand stretched towards her, than at the first touch she disap- 

 pears in a hole. Nothing but chiselling out the piece of rock 

 ■will secure her ; your labour is the price paid for the capture, 

 and the captive is prized accordingly ; if as much labour had 

 been given to the Smooth Anemone, she would have seemed 

 as lovely in your eyes. 



There is something sad in the fugitive keenness of pleasure, 

 I shall never feel again the delight of getting my first Actinia. 

 No rare species can give that peculiar thrill. There is a 

 bloom, on the cheek which the first kiss carries away, and 

 which never again meets the same lips. No partridge is 

 worth the first which falls by your gun ; no second salmon is 

 ever landed with the same pride as the first. Even printer's 



