purged away, before we can become inhabitants of that city of light and bliss, into which shall enter "nothing that defileth!"
If this is a correct aspect of the subject, it was natural that the inferior creatures who fell federally in their lord and head, should share in the consequences of his sad lapse. Hence we find not only that the procuring of food occupies a large portion of the time and energy of the brute animals, but also that of what remains much is devoted to operations of cleanliness, personal and local. In all probability both of these occupations are to them actually pleasant, instead of burdensome; their part of the punishment (as I have elsewhere remarked) is, in many respects, indignity rather than suffering, though they have enough of the latter too. Every one has seen how much of her leisure is occupied by a cat in cleansing herself and her offspring, and the zest with which she goes through her task indicates that it is not unpleasing. Other animals perform analogous operations, varied, however, so much in the details of their purposes, modes and implements, that I am persuaded an interesting treatise might be written exclusively on animal cleanliness.
I am not going to write such a treatise, but merely to describe an example that I have noticed tenants of my Aquarium. I have before said that the second pair of feet are used by the Prawn (Palæmon) as his principal organs of prehension; and this might have been inferred from their superior length and stoutness, particularly the size of the pincers or didactyle hands. On cursory observation you are puzzled
