1828. ] True Story of a Storm at Sea. 135 
trifling circumstances. I mention this to shew on what mere threads 
our personal safety hangs. Laying in bed half an hour too late one 
morning, and waiting half an hour for a friend the next, had nearly cost 
me my life. 
As it was during the prevalence of the equinoctial gales, I had in- 
tended to wait a day or two at Calais, if it seemed necessary, in order to 
judge of the weather, and not go unless it seemed likely to be favourable. 
But these delays at Paris induced me to determine on leaving Calais by 
the very first vessel that should quit the port after my arrival. This 
happened to be the Lord Melville steam-boat, which went direct to 
London,—leaving Calais at midnight of the day on which I had 
reached it. 
The reader must know that I am, to a certain extent, a believer in pre- 
sentiments and warnings ; that is to say, I believe that such things happen 
—that we feel them, and feel that they have some connexion with future 
events. That they have any such connexion, is another matter, and one 
on which I shall not presume to determine even for myself. I believe 
that I do not believe them to have any such connexion ; but this is the 
utmost I can be sure of: and this, like most other beliefs, is not very 
operative upon our feelings, whatever it may be on our actions. I once 
performed a journey of some thousand miles, in the teeth of what the 
elderly ladies of my acquaintance insisted were three distinct warnings 
that I ought not to undertake it: and nothing untoward happened. But 
I did not forget the warnings, nevertheless, until I got safe home. In 
like manner, I had a strong presentiment that I ought not to have left 
Calais that night of which I am now tospeak. Inthe first place, I have 
an utter abhorrence of a steam-boat, as a matter of taste; though I am 
perfectly , satisfied as to the invention being one of great utility, in the 
common acceptation of the term. But it could, in this instance, be of no 
utility to me ; therefore, I ought not to have run myself headlong against 
one of my strongest prejudices.——Secondly, it was Sunday night, and a 
very boisterous one, to boot ; and though I admit that Sunday is, in this 
‘country at least, the most eligible day for travelling of every kind, yet I 
‘never feel that it is so safe to travel on that day as any other! The 
“why ?’ I leave to be determined as the taste of the reader may direct. 
—In the third place—and this was the only unequivocal warning I 
received on this occasion—after I had got on board the vessel, and had 
began to feela very palpable uneasiness at the appearance of the weather 
(but without its having ever entered into my thoughts that, now I was 
once on board, it was possible to change my mind about going, or prac- 
_ ticable not to go if I had), a young man suddenly rushed into the cabin 
_ where I was, evidently in great haste and confusion, and insisted on some 
of the people getting him his luggage out of the hold, as he could not 
that night. The sailors assured him that it was impossible to get at 
, as it was stowed away quite at the farther end of the hold, under hun- 
eds of other trunks, &c. He clamoured and insisted to no purpose, 
ywever, till he pulled out his purse ; and then the case seemed altered: 
ley took up the floor of the cabin; got out what he wanted, after much 
ie and searching ; and he laid hands on it in the greatest delight, 
peared immediately. During the whole of this process, which 
itching attentively, I felt certain that this person had received 
Mtion of the kind of weather we were likely to have, and had 
mined not to go accordingly. I was as sure of this as if I had been 
te 
