Then they stirred the water about with a long pole, till the whole pool, which had been in tranquillity so dark, became like a caldron of boiling metal. After amusing themselves with the variety of effects to be produced, the party returned homeward.
“What is the use of all that shining stuff, now, I wonder?” said Digby.
“I am glad to hear you ask the question,” replied his uncle. “That shining stuff is called the phosphorescence of the ocean. It is composed of numberless minute animals, each not larger than a pin’s head. Through a microscope we should see that all parts of the animal shine, but at different times. It emits, as it were, sparks, now from one part of its body, now from another. It is a very beautiful object, especially in southern latitudes, and that alone may account for its creation; just as birds with gay plumage, and flowers of varied hues and sweet scents, were formed for the benefit of man. It wonderfully relieves, also, on a dark night, the obscurity of the ocean, and its light is so great during storms that it enables seamen the better to perform the duties of the ship. Of one thing you may be certain, that nothing is created in nature without a very adequate object.”
On reaching home, Mr Nugent got out his microscope, and exhibited to Digby the wonders of the creatures they had caught. Power had also brought home a bucketful of water. It contained, among other creatures, a little melon-shaped animal, which Mr Nugent turned into a glass tumbler. It was smaller than a small hazel nut, of a transparent consistency, and with bands down it like the divisions in a melon. These bands, when the tumbler was shaded, glittered in the most beautiful way, while the creature moved about in the water, now rising to the surface, and now sinking almost to the bottom. When again brought to the light, it was seen putting forth what Digby called its fishing lines. These, when it was on the surface, reached to the bottom, and were evidently employed for the object Digby supposed.
“This beautiful little creature is called a Cydippe or Beroë,” observed Mr Nugent. “Those bands are denominated cilia. See, they are like little paddles. They are the means by which the animal moves. Now look—he has turned his head down, and away he plunges to the bottom; now he rises slowly, like a balloon. I doubt not that there is much enjoyment even in that little mass of jelly. Wonderful are all God’s works. Who can measure the happiness which exists even in an atom.”
Digby became far more interested than, a few weeks before, he would have thought possible. At the same time he did not take in all the remarks his uncle and Marshall made. He would have found it impossible to describe the curious marine animals they showed him. At the same time the impression left on his mind was beneficial, as he in that way learned to comprehend the fact of the existence of the numberless wonders of nature, and to regard them with interest and respect. Although he could not manage to recollect a single one of the hard names he heard, he surely was better off than a person who remains ignorant that even such things exist.
The day after the Noctilucae had exhibited their brightness on the sea in so remarkable a degree, a heavy gale sprung up and blew on the shore for some hours with great violence.
“I hope no other shipwreck happened last night,” said Digby, as they got up in the morning.
“I hope not,” answered Marshall. “We should have heard of it before this. But if you will come down with me to the beach, by and by, we shall find that other floating things have been wrecked, and that the sea has cast them up in great numbers on the shore.”
As soon as lessons were over the boys set out. Digby was now quite eager for anything of the sort. They had not gone far along the beach when Marshall pounced on a dark-looking mass, which he put into his jar.