Naturalists from every State visit this point--among the number the late lamented Professor Agassiz ranked as the most distinguished. Among the many marines with whose habits we have become conversant, the hermit-crab, also called the soldier-crab, appears the most peculiar. At low tide we saw a large mollusk-shell traveling toward the shore, and wondered why such unaccustomed speed in its movements. We soon discovered crab-claws projecting from its shell, and recognized it as a hermit-crab, an original freebooter. How strangely he looked, with his confiscated house on his back, moving about like a sailor in his boat, using his claws for oars! When the shell he is occupying gets too small for him, like a land-liver he goes house-hunting. If he finds one tenanted which will answer his purpose, he pulls out the occupant with as little ceremony as a fellow-man kicks his drunken brother into the street. He then darts into the shell with great speed, leaving his companion, bruised and homeless, to die at his leisure, or secure another, if he is able. In this favored spot the eagle teaches her eaglets to face the sun and soar from sight, while the seagulls flap their wings in silence, the cormorant gorges himself to gluttony, and the pelican takes on her cargo of fish, which she carries to a platform raised in front of her nest, that the fledglings may draw their rations without leaving their downy beds, where they remain until they are grown. [Illustration: A FISH-HAWK FORAGING FROM A PELICAN.] Rare sea-shells are found on this beach, and rarer birds; but the rarest of all that is seen on this island is the light-house-keeper, Captain Coons, who is a Spiritualist, a curiosity, a mixture of singularities combined, an enigma of the human species. His presence reminds one of a moving panorama, or kaleidoscope, with a great variety of coloring and adaptations, always changing, and designed to please the crowd before which it is placed. He has much versatility of talent--can scrape almost any old-fashioned tune out of catgut, blow plaintive notes from a flute, and draw "Yankee Doodle" from that unclassic instrument upon which we never read of David the son of Jesse having performed--an accordion. Spirits of persons that have been drowned in the vast deep are said to visit this island more than others: perhaps the proximity favors their coming; and sailors, never remarkable for their piety, while wandering in darkness, and weary of the gnashing teeth in their unhappy abodes, if they do come, it is only seeking rest. This point is the best for spiritual circles that could be imagined--no affinities that are inharmonious to come in, and prevent those mystic rappers which have been promising to benefit the world so wonderfully for more than twenty years, but never, as yet, developed any important truths.