know of the story of my marriage, he soon
knew, just us well."

Her father's face was ashy white, and he
held her in both his arms.

"I have done no worse, I have not
disgraced you. But if you ask me whether I
have loved him, or do love him, I tell you plainly
father, that it may be so. I don't know!"

She took her hands suddenly from his
shoulders and pressed them both upon her side;
while in her face, not like itself—and in her
figure, drawn up, resolute to finish by a last
effort what she had to say—the feelings long
suppressed broke loose.

"This night, my husband being away, he
has been with me, declaring himself my
lover. This minute he expects me, for I could
release myself of his presence by no other
means. I do not know that I am sorry, I do
not know that I am ashamed, I do not know
that I am degraded in my own esteem. All
that I know is, your philosophy and your
teaching will not save me. Now, father, you
have brought me to this. Save me by some
other means!"

He tightened his hold in time to prevent
her sinking on the floor, but she cried out
in a terrible voice, "I shall die if you hold
me! Let me fall upon the ground!" And
he laid her down there, and saw the pride
of his heart and the triumph of his system,
lying, an insensible heap, at his feet.

SEA VIEWS.

THE lodgings provided in the Regent's
Park for the small people of the sea, first
called the Aquavivarium, now the Marine
Aquarium—for a new thing there was a new
name wanted, and the first name is not always
the best—have given satisfaction to their
tenants. The Aquarium is now an established
institution, and Mr. Gosse, the naturalist,
who was most active in its establishment, and
by whom it was mainly stocked, has just
published a little book descriptive of his lodger-
hunting in the Bay of Weymouth and of the
characters of the lodgers usually to be met
with in apartments furnished like those of the
fishes in the Zoological Gardens.

Every man, woman, or child, may establish
a private aquarium upon any scale that may
be found convenient. An aquarium may be
made in a doctor's bottle or a pudding-
basin. The first thing requisite is a
comprehension of the principle on which such
a little institution is founded.

The main idea hangs upon the fact that,
by a wise ordinance of nature, the vegetable
and animal worlds are made to play into each
other's hands. Animals want plenty of oxygen,
and plants want plenty of carbon.
Animals take oxygen, and carbonize it, making
carbonic acid; plants take the carbonic acid,
and de-carbonize it, making oxygen. This,
plants are doing all day long, under the influence
of light. Growing plants, under water,
when the light shines upon them, are to be
seen hung with minute pearls—tiny bubbles
that detach themselves, and make fairy
balloon ascents towards the surface. These
are bubbles of pure oxygen; we see here
with our eyes what goes on unseen every
summer in our fields and forests. As fast,
indeed, as oxygen is spoiled by animals it is
restored by plants. This maintains a right
balance of life on land. This maintains nearly
a right balance under water. The sea is full
of creatures that require, as well as the land
animals, to breathe air containing oxygen
enough for the support of life. There must
be in the water, air sufficient in quantity and
also in quality, otherwise the swimmers and
creepers of the river and the ocean swim and
creep no more—they must all die, and make
the ocean putrid.

Therefore, partly, it is that the sea includes
not only a realm of its own animals, but also
a realm of its own plants. The plants, besides
furnishing nutritious pasturage, carry on a
wholesome chemical process under the
surface of the water, for the manufacture of a
main ingredient in the breath of life. The
fishes, however, are not left to depend wholly
upon this means of support. The billows of
the great ocean beat the air, and catching it
in the form of foam- bubbles, force it down to
considerable depths, and cause it, both in its
descent and in its rising again to the surface,
to come into contact with the water that
requires its purifying influence. The sea beats
on the beaches, and dashes itself into a thick
froth against rocks; that is to say, beats air
into itself on an extensive scale, and carries
the precious bubbles so obtained even to
considerable depths. Its movement causes, also,
a constant change of surface water, to say
nothing of the influence of currents.

There are two actions, then, to be imitated
in a marine vivarium. In the first place, the
sea-water is to be furnished with healthy
vegetating marine plants, in the proportion
necessary to maintain, by their respiration, a
balance of life with the animals which it is
proposed to keep. This balance is not very
difficult to get, and may suffice of itself in
some cases; but for the further aeration of
the water, if it be required, nothing is easier
than to provide a substitute for the mechanical
process used in nature. It is only necessary
to take every morning a portion of water out
of the aquarium, and allow it to drip back from
some little height into the vessel. The water
thus exposed to contact with air drop by
drop, and further entangling and carrying
down air in small bubbles with it, will be
maintained by these means in a state of
perfect purity; in fact, there is no reason why
the same supply of sea-water should not last
for a twelvemonth or even longer.

Of course, during all this time, loss by evaporation
has to be supplied; but, as the evaporation
is of pure water only, all the salts remaining