SEAL.

THERE are many different species of seals. The common seal is found along the shores of various countries of Europe, and is plentiful on many parts of the English, Scottish, and Irish coasts. These animals feed on various kinds of fish, such as flounders and other flat fish, and commit great havoc among the salmon in the estuary of the River Tees. "This seal is hunted, as are others also, far the sake of its skin and blubber. The fishing commences in autumn, and is practised by means of nets stretched across narrow sounds where the seals are in the habit of swimming. In these nets they are entangled, but it is only the young that can be thus captured; the old ones are shot."

The common seal can remain under water for about five minutes, and swims so rapidly, that if alarmed it will proceed nearly half-a-mile during that period. The seal is intelligent and docile, and easily domesticated; it becomes attached like a dog to its master, and may be readily taught to assist in fishing. Many anecdotes respecting tamed seals are recorded. Few animals have a finer sense of hearing, and musical sounds appear to afford it great delight. Laing, in his account of a Voyage to Spitzbergen, states that the violin, when played on board the vessel, would generally draw around it a numerous audience of seals, which would continue to follow it for miles. Sir Walter Scott alludes to the same curious fact in the following lines:-

"Rude Heiskar's seals through surges dark
Will long pursue the minstrel's bark."

The common seal "is gregarious in its habits, and haunts caverns and recesses among the rocks, to which the females retire to breed. The young are generally two in number, and the mother nurses them with great assiduity and affection, taking them out to sea very early. When surprised basking on basking on the shore, which the seal often does, luxuriating in the sun, its first effort is to make for the water; but if intercepted, it shows fight, and with a growl turns on its adversary, who, unless he avoid the attack, is in some danger, for the animal has great power and weight, (often two hundred and twenty-four pounds,) having overset its antagonist, it shuffles to the water, and there disappears. All are familiar with Sir Walter Scott's humorous narrative of Hector Mac Intyre's discomfiture by a "phoca." (" Antiquary.")

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The voice of the seal is a gruff grunt, not unlike that of a pig, but when wounded it often utters a peculiar moaning sound. These animals are sagacious and watchful, and while half-slumbering on the beach, their customary caution seldom leaves them, for one of their number is usually placed a little higher on the rock than the others, and he seems constantly awake, and ever and anon upraises his "grim feature," scenting the windward air."