I was observing the sea under these conditions, and the largest fish only appeared like indistinct masses, when the Nautilus was suddenly in a bright zone of light. I at first believed that the electric light had been set going, and was thus illuminating the surrounding sea; but I was mistaken, and soon perceived my error.
The Nautilus was floating in the midst of a phosphorescent zone, which in the prevailing obscurity became dazzling. This was produced by myriads of luminous animalcules, whose sparkling increased as they glided against the metallic hull of the vessel. I could perceive spots of light in the midst of this luminous sheet, like the lumps of iron in a furnace when the metal is at a white heat; and sometimes, on the contrary, certain luminous portions would become dark in the midst of the brilliant mass, from which all shade had apparently been banished. No, this was not the calm irradiation of our usual light. There was a vigour and an unwonted movement in it all. It was a living light.
In fact, it was an innumerable collection of pelagian infusoria of noctiluqueous glands, regular globules of diaphonous jelly, provided with a filiform tentacle; and of which animals there are about 25,000 in thirty cubic centimetres of water. And their light was doubly increased by the gleams of the medusæ, the asteroids, and other phosphorescent zoophytes impregnated with the oily substance of organic matter decomposed in the sea, or, perhaps, with the mucus secreted by the fish. For a long time the Nautilus continued to float in these brilliant waves, and our admiration was increased at perceiving great marine animals disporting themselves like salamanders. I saw in that fire which did not burn
