continually in motion, and this they effect by an alternate expansion and contraction of the body. This action being similar to that of respiration in the human chest, the ancients called them Sea Lungs. The Medusa constitutè, in the Arctic seas, one of the principal sources of the food of the whale. Their innumerable masses sometimes cover many square leagues in extent. The barks which navigate Lake Thau meet, at certain periods of the year, with numerous colonies of a species about the size of a small melon, nearly transparent, and whitish. One would be tempted to take these animals at first for a collection of floating muslin bonnets. The Medusæ are furnished with a mouth, which is rarely unoccupied. Small molluscs and young crustaceans form their ordinary food. In spite of their soft substance, they are most voracious, and snap up their prey all at one mouthful, without dividing it. If its prey resists and disputes with it, the Medusa holds it fast in its grip, and remains motionless, waiting till its victim is thoroughly exhausted with its vain efforts to escape, and then it proceeds to devour its prey in calm security. Many of these animals possess a stinging apparatus, by which many a bather has been stung as if by a stinging-nettle, while plunging about in the sea. We could not better conclude our account of this interesting creature, than by quoting the words of the poetic naturalist, Michelet: "Among the rugged rocks and lagoons, 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 loses itself as in a cloud of tentacles. . . . The delicate creature had been left behind by its native element, the sea, and lay like a lifeless mass of trembling jelly. I paused, however beside it: I slipped my hand under it, raised the motionless body cautiously, and as it had become overturned by wind or wave, I restored it to its natural position for swimming. Putting it into the neighbouring water, it sank to the bottom, giving no sign of life. I pursued my walk along the shore, but at the end of ten minutes I returned to my Medusa, and saw it swimming about with singular grace, its hair flying around it as it swam." [For a fuller description, vide Figuier's Ocean World (Cassell, Petter, and Galpin)]. Gelatinous.--Like jelly. Disc.-Like a round plate lying on its face. Instinctively.-By a natural impulse or instinct. Suspend.-to hang one thing under another [L. sub under, pendeo, to hang]. 'Azure.-Of a faint blue. Terminate.-To end [L. terminus, end, limit. Hence terminus in English means the last station of a railway]. "Iridescent.-Coloured like the rainbow [Gr. iris, rainbow]. 10 Lobe.-The lower part of the ear, or something of that shape. "Divergent.-Slanting outwards from a common point, like the spokes of a wheel. 12 Sinuous.-Winding like the folds of a snake. 13 Appendage.-One thing hanging on to a larger [L. ad, to, pendeo, to hang]. other [L. alter, the other]. 17 Alternate.-First one and then the 18 Expansion.-A spreading out [L. not, numero, to number]. 24 Crustacean-An animal in a crustlike shell, such as a lobster or a crab. Apparatus.-Set of instruments or 25 tools. THE CITY OF THE DEMONS. [This is a fictitious narrative abridged from that by WILLIAM MAGINN, born at Cork, 1793; died in London, 1842. Though the drapery of the story is fiction, a very wholesome truth may be learned by its perusal; for it shows in a very impressive way the final consequence of a life of selfishness.] IN days of yore there lived in the flourishing city of Cairo1 a Hebrew rabbi,2 by name Jochonan, who was the most learned of his nation. His fame went over the East, and the most distant people sent their young men to imbibe3 wisdom from his lips. He was deeply skilled in the traditions of the fathers, and his word on a disputed point was decisive. He was pious, just, temperate, and strict; but he had one vice, a love of gold had seized upon his heart, and he opened not his hand to the poor. THE WARNING. One day, as he walked in the fields about Cairo, conversing with a youth on the interpretation of the Law, it so happened that the angel of death smote the young man suddenly, and he fell dead before the feet of the Rabbi. When the Rabbi found that the youth was dead, he rent his garments and glorified the Lord. But his heart was touched, and the thoughts of death troubled him in the visions of the night. He felt uneasy when he reflected on his hardness to the poor, and he said, "Blessed be the name of the Lord! The first good thing that I am asked to do in that holy name will I perform without reward." While yet he thought upon these things, there came a loud cry at his gate. 66 Awake, thou sleeper!" said the voice: "awake! A child is in danger of death, and the mother hath sent me for thee, that thou mayest do thine office." "The night is dark and gloomy," said the Rabbi, coming to his casement, "and mine age is great. Are there not younger men than I in Cairo ?" "For thee only, Rabbi Jochonan, whom some call the wise, but others the miser, was I sent. Here is gold," said he; "I want not thy labour for nothing. I adjure thee to come in the name of the living God." 5 So the Rabbi thought upon the vow he had just made, and he groaned in spirit, for the purse sounded heavy. "As thou hast adjured me by that name, I go with thee; but I hope the distance is not far. Put up thy gold." "The place is at hand," said the stranger, who was a gallant youth in magnificent attire. "Be speedy, for time presses." Jochonan arose, dressed himself, carefully locked up all the doors of his house, and concealed the keys. "I never remember," said the Rabbi, “so dark a night. Be thou to me as a guide, for I can hardly see the way." "I know it well," replied the stranger with a sigh; "lean upon mine arm, and fear not." When the They journeyed on through the darkness. darkness abated, the astonished Rabbi, lifting up his eyes, found that they had come to the gates of a city which he had never before seen. Yet he knew all the cities of the land of Egypt, and he had walked but half an hour from his dwelling in Cairo. So he knew not what to think, but followed the man trembling. 6 They soon entered the gates of the city, which was brilliantly lighted. The streets were full of the sounds of revelry; but the faces of the revellers were the faces of men pained within. Jochonan soon perceived, by the marks they bore, that they were demons. He cast his eye furtively on his companion, and lo! he too wore the mark of a demon." The Rabbi feared excessively, and quaked within; but he thought it best silently to follow his guide, who brought him to a splendid house in the most magnificent quarter of the city. "Enter here," said the Demon to Jochonan, "for this house is mine. The lady and the child are in the upper chamber." On ascending to the topmost room, the Rabbi beheld a lady, whose dazzling beauty was shrouded by hopeless melancholy, and on the lap of a nurse, by her side, a child in rich raiment. Jochonan was informed by the lady that she was a Jewess, who for some sin now dwelt in the city of the Demons, and that she had sent for him to admit her son into the company of the faithful, so that he might not share her unhappy fate. She also informed the terror-stricken man that he must have been guilty of some great sin to have fallen under the power of the Demons. The Rabbi protested that he had ever zealously walked in the precepts of the Law. "Nay," said the lady, "there must be some great sin lurking in your heart, or you would not be here. And let me tell you, there is only one way of escape from this place of misery." "What is that, O lady of beauty?" said the agonized Rabbi. "Eat not, drink not, nor take fee or reward, while here. Have courage, and persevere." THE TEMPTATION. At this moment her husband, who had conducted the Rabbi thither, entered the room, and called upon him to do his duty. With a heavy heart he did for the child according to the Law. But when, at the conclusion of the ceremony, the wine was handed round to be tasted by the child, the mother, and the Rabbi, he refused it, saying,— "Spare me, my lord, for I have made a vow that I fast this day; and I will eat not, neither will I drink.” "Be it as thou pleasest," said the Demon. "I will not that thou shouldst break thy vow,”—and he laughed aloud. ΙΟ |