So THE CALL OF THE SEA 



drown the voice : none is heard save that of the 

 tempest. 



But the wind subsides ; light returns ; the thun- 

 der rolls at a distance ; the ear calmly follows its 

 reverberations ; the seaman with weary hand points 

 to the flashing lightning, now too distant to alarm 

 him ; he forgets in a trice the dangers he has just 

 escaped, and seems by his renewed songs to pro- 

 voke fresh perils. 



I know not, my friend, whether I have given 

 you a faint idea of a storm which overtook us to- 

 day in the fourth degree of north latitude. Ah I 

 what a delightful picture of Paris could I have 

 drawn for you ! Our gentry, however, say that it 



was only a squall. 



J. Arago. 



Helplessness of the Ship ^;i.- <:> 



(From Fccheur d^Islande) 



"TJ'LLE fuyait devant le temps, la Marie^ fuyait 

 toujours plus vite ; et le temps fuyait aussi — 

 devant je ne sais quoi de mystdrieux et de terrible. 

 La brise, la mer, la Marie, les nuages, tout dtait 

 pris d'un mcme affolement de fuite et de vitesse 

 dans le meme sens. Ce qui detalait le plus vite 

 c'dtait le vent, puis les grosses levdes de houle, plus 

 lourdes, plus lentes, courant apres lui ; puis la 

 Marie entrainde dans ce mouvement de tout. Les 



