matters of historical interpretation, and of Merman as nevertheless an
objector _qui mérite d'être connu_. M. Porpesse, also, availing himself
of M. Cachalot's knowledge, reproduced it in an article with certain
additions, which it is only fair to distinguish as his own, implying
that the vigorous English of Grampus was not always as correct as a
Frenchman could desire, while Merman's objections were more sophistical
than solid. Presently, indeed, there appeared an able _extrait_ of
Grampus's article in the valuable _Rapporteur scientifique et
historique_, and Merman's mistakes were thus brought under the notice of
certain Frenchmen who are among the masters of those who know on
oriental subjects. In a word, Merman, though not extensively read, was
extensively read about.

Meanwhile, how did he like it? Perhaps nobody, except his wife, for a
moment reflected on that. An amused society considered that he was
severely punished, but did not take the trouble to imagine his
sensations; indeed this would have been a difficulty for persons less
sensitive and excitable than Merman himself. Perhaps that popular
comparison of the Walrus had truth enough to bite and blister on
thorough application, even if exultant ignorance had not applauded it.
But it is well known that the walrus, though not in the least a
malignant animal, if allowed to display its remarkably plain person and
blundering performances at ease in any element it chooses, becomes
desperately savage and musters alarming auxiliaries when attacked or
hurt. In this characteristic, at least, Merman resembled the walrus. And
now he concentrated himself with a vengeance. That his counter-theory
was fundamentally the right one he had a genuine conviction, whatever
collateral mistakes he might have committed; and his bread would not
cease to be bitter to him until he had convinced his contemporaries that
Grampus had used his minute learning as a dust-cloud to hide