“True, many of them are marked with a cross or star, and they reflect the sun’s rays in a beautiful manner. These jelly-fish, or more properly Medusæ, are, with many other marine animals, luminous in the dark, and look, as you have seen, like so many thousands of sparkling gems. There is one little animal of this kind, of which I recollect reading a very interesting account. It is called, the purple-ocean or blue snail-shell; and is plentifully supplied with a juice which is very luminous in the dark.” “Oh! mamma,” said Edward, “do you think if we go down to the beach to-morrow morning, there will be a chance of our finding any?” “No, my dear, this little wanderer of the deep never approaches the shore unless it be accidentally. Unlike many other small shell-fish, which attach themselves to rocks, it is furnished with a house that is extremely thin and light, and I think it will amuse you to hear of the curious contrivance, by which it is enabled either to remain on the surface of the water or descend below it. It is endowed with the wonderful power of raising at will a tiny bag inflated with air, by means of which it floats; but, when to descend is the object, it is lowered or cast off, and the little animal disappears. They are often seen by voyagers floating together in great numbers, many hundred miles from land.” “How surprising!” said Edward, “and how beautiful they must look, either by night or day! But I need not wish to go abroad for the sake of the purple-ocean snail-shell, when I can see so grand a sight at home.” Mrs. Ashton told Edward it was wise to endeavour to be contented with our situation, whatever it may be, and not to spoil our enjoyment of the pleasures within our reach, by wishing for those which we cannot attain; but, she added, we must not forget the obligations we are under to those adventurous spirits, who delight to brave dangers in search of what is new and curious; while we, who remain quietly at home, reap the fruits of their labours and experience. Lewis thought there must be quite as much pleasure in travelling as would compensate for the danger and toil: “So, Edward,” he said, “when I am a man and a traveller, I will send you home specimens of birds, beasts, and fishes; and you may class and arrange them all to your heart’s content; for that is dull work, if you please.” Here their mother warned them that it was long past the usual time for their retiring to rest. “Mamma,” said Edward, “may I ask you one thing before we go? Will you let me hear those lines you were repeating to papa the other day; there was something about striking the waves with an oar, and the cold flame flashing along the hand, which I could not at all understand: but now, I think I know what it meant.” “I will repeat them with pleasure, my love,” said his mother, “they describe the very scene which has delighted you so much:—