116 FfALF AN HOUR WITH JELLY-FISH. 



be soon, forgotten. It attaches itself to the stems 

 of seaweeds, &c., as well as to stones ; and when the 

 former is resorted to, its appearance is not unlike 

 the bell of the Campanula in our gardens. It can, 

 however, detach itself at will, and even swim freely 

 by means of the alternate contraction and expansion 

 of its body. Bound the margin of the latter are 

 placed tufts of short tentacles, whilst in the centre 

 is the polypite and a four-lobed mouth. When 

 thus seen attached, it resembles in some degree an 

 inverted medusa. 



It is astonishing what a small quantity of solid 

 matter is contained in the bodies of jelly-fishes. 

 Wood makes the remark that they are " little else 

 than animated sea water," and so far he is perfectly 

 right. And yet the younger and smaller indi- 

 viduals contribute, in all seas, but especially in 

 tropical, to the phenomenon known as phosphores- 

 cence. On some occasions they literally crowd every 

 drop of water, and furnish inexhaustible food for 

 myriads of other marine animals. Some species 

 even constitute one of the staple articles of diet to 

 the Greenland whale. As to their beauty there 

 can only be one idea, and the disgusting grub of 

 the painted butterfly is not more strikingly different 

 to the parent out of whose egg it has crawled, than 

 is the living, swimming jelly-fish to the blubber- 

 like mass known on the beach, which has to do 

 duty in lieu of a better acquaintance with this 

 animal. The most learned, as well as the igno- 



