So he worked and worked, to make a hollow; it was for dear life that he was working, and you may be sure that he never relaxed. Formed of detached pieces, he worked with five claws, which, always pushing together, united and formed an admirable pick. His pick of five teeth, of the finest enamel, is attached to a frame work, delicate, but very strong, and consisting of forty pieces, which work in a sort of sheath, playing in and out, in the most perfect and regular manner, with an elasticity preventing too violent shocks, and self-repairing, in case of any accident.
Rarely, in the softer stone, which he holds in contempt, but almost always in the solid rock, in the hardest granite, it is that this heroically laborious sculptor goes to work. The harder the rock, the firmer he feels himself secured. And, then, in fact, what does it matter about the length of the task? Time is of no consequence to him, centuries are before him; supposing that his tools and his life should end to-morrow, another would take his place and continue his work. During their life, they hold but little communication, these hermits; but in death a brotherhood exists, even for them, and the young survivor, who shall find the work half done, will bless the memory of the good workman who has preceded him.
Do not fancy that he strikes, and strikes continually. He has an art, a labor-saving art of his own. When he has well attacked the layers of the rock, and well cleaned it, he tears away the asperities as with little pincers. A work of great patience, and one which requires long intervals, too, in order that the water may aid in doing the work upon the denuded parts. He then proceeds to the second layer, then to the next, and so on till the long, long labor is at length completed.
In this uniform life, however, there are occasional crises, even as in the life of the poor human laborer. The sea retires from certain shores; in the summer, this or that rock becomes quite insupportably hot; and our oursin must have two houses, one for summer, and one for winter. A great event, that, of moving from place to place, for a creature without feet and covered all over with points. M. Cailland had an opportunity of observing the conduct of the creature under those circumstances. The weak and movable scoops which play backward and forward, are by no means insensible though he protects them somewhat by covering them with a little soft gelatine. At length he steadies himself on his thorns, as on so many crutches, rolls his Diogenes' tub, and attains his port as he best may. Arrived there, he shuts himself up again, and in the little nest which he almost always finds partly made, he concentrates himself in the enjoyment of his solitary and thrice blessed security. Let a thousand enemies prowl without, let the storm-lashed wave moan or rage, all that is for his pleasure. Let the very rock tremble at the dash of the breakers; he well knows that he has nothing to fear, that it is only his kind nurse that is making all that noise; he is safe in his cradle, and with a glad good night, he sleeps.
SHELLS, MOTHER OF PEARL, AND PEARL.
The oursin has carried the genius of defence to its utmost limit. His cuirass, or, preferably, his fortress of pieces, is at once movable and resisting, yet sensitive, retractile, and capable of being repaired in case of accident; this fortress is fast-joined and anchored to the rock, and still farther lodged within a hollow of the rock, so that the enemy has no means of attacking the citadel;—it is a system of defence so perfect that it can never be surpassed. No shell is comparable to it; far less are any of the works of human industry.
The oursin is the completion of the starred and circular creatures; in him they have their highest and most triumphant development. The circle has few variations; it is the absolute form; in the globe of the oursin, at once so simple and so complicated, is the perfection and completion of the first world.