in the presence of the attentive guests, by a slow fire, in order
that they might gloat upon its sufferings and expiring hues, before
satisfying their appetites with its flesh.

It will not surprise us to learn that the eminent _gourmand_ Apicius
offered a prize to the inventor of a new sauce made of mullets' livers.

But we may remark, that fish, like all other natural objects, were
studied by the ancients only to pet or to eat. All their views of
Nature were essentially selfish; none were disinterested, reverential,
deductive, or scientific. Nature ministered only to their appetites,
in her various kinds of food,--to their service, in her beasts of
burden,--or to their childish or ferocious amusement, with talking
birds, as the starling, with pet fish, or with pugnacious wild beasts.
There was no higher thought. The Greeks, though fond of flowers, and
employing them for a multitude of adornments and festive occasions
entirely unequalled now, yet did not advance to their botanical study or
classification. The Roman, if enamored of the fine arts, could see no
Art in Nature. There was no experiment, no discovery, and but little
observation. The whole science of Natural History, which has assumed
such magnitude and influence in our times, was then almost entirely
neglected.

And yet what an opportunity there was for the naturalist, had a single
enthusiast arisen? All lands, all climes, and all their natural
productions were subservient to the will of the Emperor. The orb of the
earth was searched for the roe of eels or the fins of mullets to gratify
Caesar. And the whole world might have been explored, and specimens
deposited in one gigantic museum in the Eternal City, at the nod of a
single individual. But the observer, the lover of Nature, was wanting;