158 THE OCEAN WORLD. 



act is the immediate production of an organism which itself is fertile. 

 In the second, including Rhizostoma, the result is a fixed and sexless 

 Lucernaroid, which by fission gives rise to zooid forms of dispropor- 

 tionate size, in which the reproductive organs are developed. In the 

 first division one family has the umbrella permanently free ; in the 

 other it is furnished with an organ of attachment. Three families of 

 this Lucernariadae have been defined : i. Lucernaridtz. 2. Pelagida. 

 3. Rhizostomidce. 



If we walk along the sea shore, after the reflux of the tide, we 

 may often see, lying immovable upon the sands, gelatinous disc-like 

 masses of a greenish colour and repulsive appearance, from which 

 the eye and the steps instinctively turn aside. These beings, whose 

 blubber-like appearance inspires only feelings of disgust when seen 

 lying grey and dead on the shore, are, however, when seen floating 

 on the bosom of the ocean, one of its most graceful ornaments. 

 These are Medusae. When seen suspended in the middle of the 

 waves, like a piece of gauze or an azure bell, terminating in delicate 

 silvery garlands, we cannot but admire their iridescent colours, or 

 deny that these objects, so forbidding in-some of their aspects, rank, 

 in their natural localities, among the most elegant productions of 

 Nature. We could not better commence our studies of these 

 children of the sea than by quoting a passage from the poet 

 Michelet : "Among the rugged rocks and lagunes, where the 

 retiring sea has left many little animals which were too sluggish or 

 too weak to follow it, some shells will be left there to themselves 

 and suffered to become quite dry. In the midst of them, without 

 shell and without shelter, extended at our feet, lies the animal which 

 we call by the very inappropriate name of the Medusa. Why was 

 this name, of terrible associations, given to a creature so charming ? 

 Often have I had my attention arrested by these castaways which we 

 see so often on the shore. They are small, about the size of my 

 hand, but singularly pretty, of soft light shades, of an opal white, 

 where it lost itself as in a cloud of tentacles ; a crown of tender lilies 

 the wind had overturned it ; its crown of lilac hair floated about, 

 and the delicate umbel, that is, its proper body, was beneath ; it had 

 touched the rock dashed against it ; it was wounded, torn in its 

 fine locks, which are also its organs of respiration, absorption, and 



even of love The delicious creature, with its visible 



innocence, and the iridescence of its soft colours, was left like a 

 gliding, trembling jelly. I paused beside it, nevertheless : I glided 

 my hand under it, raised the motionless body cautiously, and 

 restored it to its natural position for swimming. Putting it into the 



