Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, Fifth Series, No. 30, Vol. I, July 26, 1884

No. 30.—Vol. I.
Price 1½ d.
SATURDAY, JULY 26, 1884.
The ocean has been watched and studied for ages in innumerable aspects—it has been looked at from points of view wide asunder as the poles—it has been sung of by poets, and fished in by fishermen, and sailed over by sailors for thousands of years; but it is still a region of mystery and wonder. There are very many things about the sea which are quite unknown to this day; in fact, the science of marine phenomena is yet in its early youth, only emerging from its infancy. The study of the physical, chemical, and biological conditions of the sea has always been surrounded by a sort of halo of romance, a scientific glamour that almost led men to believe that such research was like fishing—valuable results might be looked for in return for little labour, if the proper opportunity could be found. But the opportunity only occurred at wide intervals, and then the happy few who were fortunate enough to form the scientific staff of such expeditions as that of the Challenger were regarded with unmixed envy by the many who were eager to do similar work if they could get the chance.
The wonders discovered by the chief scientific cruises of recent years have greatly increased the interest of the public in the science of the sea, and this public interest has quite lately assumed a tangible form in the foundation of the Scottish Marine Station for Scientific Research at Granton, near Edinburgh. To understand the importance and value of this Station, one must know something of the difficulties presented to any one who wishes to solve some special problem connected with the life which swarms in the waters around our coasts. He must rely on the help of fishermen for collecting specimens; and if he cannot go to the expense of hiring a boat and crew, he requires to content himself with any selection of their ‘rubbish’ which they may be pleased to make. Should he wish to examine any locality minutely, he must purchase a dredge and tow-nets, leads and lines, and bottles and boxes to contain the specimens which may be obtained. The difficulty is only half overcome when the work of collecting is over. It is impossible to convey the creatures alive to any distance; and after a few attempts to do so, the naturalist either hires a room in the fishing-village for his work, or gives up the study of marine life altogether; unless he steer a middle course, and content himself with a bare enumeration of species and a description of the external appearance of his specimens.