NINE MONTHS IN THE ARCTIC. 227 



With a good ship, firm deck beneath hi feet, 

 well manned, plenty of sea room, the experienced 

 mariner fears but little the rising wind or the 

 surging main. 



" A storm at sea " which would appall perhaps 

 the heart of a landsman, and lead him to aban- 

 don all hope of safety, and that the noble vessel 

 would be utterly incapable of contending with 

 the frightful odds against her, is, to the seaman, 

 who looks calmly on the same scene, only as an 

 ordinary episode in ocean experience ; indeed, 

 in some respects, a gale of wind is far preferable 

 to a calm. With what confidence and energy 

 the navigator gives his orders, and is quickly 

 obeyed; soon the faithful ship is trimmed to 

 meet the storm ; and true to her native instinct, 

 former antecedents, and original design, she parts 

 the crested billow, and bounds over the waves as 

 a " thing of life " ! 



The destruction of a dwelling, either by fire 

 or by a tornado, and the inmates flying from 

 threatened death, is a sad calamity ; and the oc- 

 currence of such an event enlists the sympathies 

 of all who hear of it. But sadder by far is the 

 wreck of a ship at sea, or when cast away upon 

 some remote or hostile shore. 



Alas ! how frequently it is true, that with the 

 foundering ship, the breaking up of the sailor's 



