we can scarcely conjecture. However, the solution of the problem
submitted to me may modify the form of the dilemma. Either we do know
all the varieties of beings which people our planet, or we do not.
If we do NOT know them all--if Nature has still secrets in the deeps
for us, nothing is more conformable to reason than to admit the existence
of fishes, or cetaceans of other kinds, or even of new species,
of an organisation formed to inhabit the strata inaccessible to soundings,
and which an accident of some sort has brought at long intervals
to the upper level of the ocean.

"If, on the contrary, we DO know all living kinds, we must
necessarily seek for the animal in question amongst those marine
beings already classed; and, in that case, I should be disposed
to admit the existence of a gigantic narwhal.

"The common narwhal, or unicorn of the sea, often attains
a length of sixty feet. Increase its size fivefold or tenfold,
give it strength proportionate to its size, lengthen its
destructive weapons, and you obtain the animal required.
It will have the proportions determined by the officers
of the Shannon, the instrument required by the perforation
of the Scotia, and the power necessary to pierce the hull
of the steamer.

"Indeed, the narwhal is armed with a sort of ivory sword,
a halberd, according to the expression of certain naturalists.
The principal tusk has the hardness of steel. Some of these tusks
have been found buried in the bodies of whales, which the unicorn
always attacks with success. Others have been drawn out,
not without trouble, from the bottoms of ships, which they