Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore

οὐτ’ ἐν θέρει, οὐτ’ ἐν ὁπώρῃ. Those who have never seen one of them can never imagine (and neither Mr. Gosse’s pencil nor my clumsy words can ever describe to them) the gorgeous colouring and the grace and delicacy of form which these subaqueous landscapes exhibit. As for colouring,— the only bit of colour which I can remember even faintly resembling them (for though Correggio’s Magdalene may rival them in greens and blues, yet even he has no such crimsons and purples) is the Adoration of the Shepherds, by that “prince of colorists”— Palma Vecchio, which hangs on the left-hand side of Lord Ellesmere’s great gallery. But as for the forms,— where shall we see their like? Where, amid miniature forests as fantastic as those of the tropics, animals whose shapes outvie the wildest dreams of the old German ghost painters which cover the walls of the galleries of Brussels or Antwerp? And yet the uncouthest has some quaint beauty of its own, while most— the star-fishes and anemones, for example— are nothing but beauty. The brilliant plates in Mr. Gosse’s “Aquarium” give, after all, but a meagre picture of the reality, as it may be seen in the tank-house at the Zoological Gardens; and as it may be seen also, by anyone who will follow carefully the directions given at the end of his book, stock a glass vase with such common things as he may find in an hour’s search at low tide, and so have an opportunity of seeing how truly Mr. Gosse says, in his valuable preface, that—