The substance of the purse-shaped medusa is tougher than that of any other species which I have examined. It has one large open cavity, and is divided by the finny fringes into eight segments, each alternate pair of which are similar. The colour is a pale crimson, with waved purple lines, and the finny fringes deeper crimson. The animal appeared to be almost without sensation. The only evidence it gave of feeling was in an increased vibration of the finny fringes. Though it was cut into pieces, each portion on which there was any of the fringe continued, by its incessant play, to give evidence of life during two or three days, after which it became putrescent, and began to waste away. I have only seen one specimen of this and of the orange-coloured medusa. The colour of the latter was a brilliant orange, and it was not transparent. It was not tenacious of life, having died, to appearance, soon after it was taken.

The Greenland Sea, frozen and extensive as it is, teems with life. The variety of the animal creation is not, indeed, very great, but the quantity of some of the species that occur is truly immense. The minute medusæ and animalcules, throughout the Spitzbergen Sea, would exceed all the powers of the mind to conceive. These little creatures constitute the food of the largest animals in the creation. The common whale feeds on medusæ, sepiæ, cancri, actiniæ, etc., and these feed, probably, on the minor medusæ animalcules. The fin-whales and dolphins feed principally on herrings and other small fishes. These subsist on the smaller cancri, medusæ, and animalcules. The bear’s most general food is the seal; the seal subsists on the cancri and small fishes, and these on lesser animals of the tribe, or on the minor medusæ and animalcules. Thus the whole of the larger animals depend on these minute beings, which, until the year 1816, when I first entered on the examination of the sea-water, were not, I believe, known to exist in the Polar Seas.

The manner in which these minute animals are preserved, in a sea which is surrounded by an atmosphere ten or twelve degrees in mean temperature below the freezing point of salt water, is curious and interesting, and illustrates the combined wisdom and goodness of the Lawgiver of these icy regions, as well as of the entire globe. If the water of the sea were stationary, the temperature of the atmosphere would soon freeze it to the very bottom, and destroy all these minute animals, who have not either instinct or power of motion to retire into a more southern region. A current, however, is provided, setting towards the south-west, which carries away the ice into a parallel where it can be dissolved, and creates a circulation of water into the frozen regions from a warmer climate; while therefore the superficial current is carrying away the ice, an under-current, in a contrary direction, is bringing in warmth beneath. But how, it may be asked, does it happen that the minor medusæ are not carried away into the southern region? It is no violation of commonly received principles to suppose, that whenever the medusæ are carried to some extent southward, they sink in the water until they reach the stream of the under-current, and are by it conveyed to their proper element. The fact that the olive-green water of the sea maintains a similar position for years together, while surface after surface of ice is carried away and dissipated, is in support of this conjecture. Thus, by a most beautiful contrivance, a large portion of the surface of the globe is rendered habitable, which would otherwise be a solid mass of ice, and the Polar Sea affords a dwelling-place for many tribes of animals most useful in supplying the wants, and contributing to the comfort, of man.

It is not only, therefore, in those regions where

“Spices breathe and milder seasons smile,”

but even in the laws of a less genial climate, that we are called upon to observe His eternal power and godhead, who gives the bounties of his providence to the just and the unjust, and pleads with us, in the gospel of his Son, that we should be reconciled to him. The mighty whale, the ephemeral insect, and the minute animalcule, all the productions of his power and skill, have their wants supplied by his laws, and are subject to his control. In these he displays the strength of his arm, and the adaptations of his wisdom, but in man, redeemed and sanctified, “the exceeding riches of his grace.” Happy, indeed, are we, if whilst, with the ancient psalmist, we can proclaim that the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord, “who gathereth the waters of the sea together as an heap,” and “layeth up the depth in store-houses,” we can also, without presumption, through our union with the great heir of all things, the Lord Jesus, and by the merit of his life and death, honestly declare all things are ours, whether ... the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come, all are ours, and we are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.

[CHAPTER VI.]

EXPEDITIONS FOR FURTHER DISCOVERY.

Having now completed the account of the Arctic Regions, as given by captain Scoresby, it may be interesting to the reader to have a brief statement of some of the principal expeditions for further discovery down to the present time.

In 1819, lieutenant Parry sailed with the Hecla and Griper. The object of his expedition was to examine the great and open bay, known as sir J. Lancaster’s Sound; and, in case of failure, the Sound of alderman Jones, and that of sir T. Smith. On the 1st of August, the ships entered the Sound of sir J. Lancaster, and ran quickly up it, finding no land across the bottom of the inlet, but arriving at a strait, which they named Barrow’s Strait, and a magnificent opening into which it led, Wellington Channel. On the 4th of September, the expedition crossed the meridian of 110° west longitude, in latitude 74° 44′, becoming entitled to a reward of £5,000. They anchored, and put into winter-quarters at Melville Island, losing sight of the sun from 11th November till the 3rd of February, when it became once more visible from the Hecla’s main-top. With the greatest difficulty, they managed to escape from the ice during the months of August and September, arriving at the Orkneys 28th October, 1820.