for that shadow of a great ambition withers away, and
the creature is doomed to a lowly and vegetative life. If we soften the
hard scientific facts which tell us of these dumb, blind creatures, with
the humane mellowing thought of the oneness of all life, we will find much
that is pathetic and affecting in their humble biographies from our point
of view. And yet these cases of degeneration are far from anything like
actual misfortunes, or mishaps of nature, as Buffon was so fond of
thinking. These creatures have found their adult mode of life more free
from competition than any other, and hence their adoption of it. It is
only another instance of exquisite adaptation to an unfilled niche in the
life of the world.

Yet another phase of enjoying the life of these northern waters; the one
which comes after all the work and play of collecting is over for the day,
after the last specimen is given a fresh supply of water for the night,
and the final note in our journal is written. Then, as dusk falls, we make
our way to the beach, ship our rudder and oars and push slowly along
shore, or drift quietly with the tide. The stars may come out in clear
splendour and the visual symphony of the northern lights play over the
dark vault above us, or all may be obscured in lowering, leaden clouds.
But the lights of the sea are never obscured--they always shine with a
splendour which keeps one entranced for hours.

At night the ripples and foam of the Fundy shores seem transformed to
molten silver and gold, and after each receding wave the emerald seaweed
is left dripping with millions of sparkling lights, shining with a living
lustre which would pale the brightest gem. Each of these countless sparks
is a tiny animal, as perfect in its substance and as well adapted to its
cycle of life as the highest created being. The wonderful way in which
this phosphorescence permeates everything--the jelly-fish seeming elfish
fireworks as they throb through the water with rhythmic beats--the fish
brilliantly lighted up and plainly visible as they dart about far beneath
the surface--makes such a night on the Bay of Fundy an experience to be
always remembered.

Like the tints on a crescent sea beach
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in--
Come, from the mystic ocean,
Whose rim no foot has tr