212 THE OCEAN. 



dripping wet, and shining as bright and clean as a 

 new coin, from the constant friction of the Ocean 

 during the previous rapid passage across the Trade- 

 winds. 



"But all this picturesque admiration changes to 

 alarm when ships come so close as to risk a contact ; 

 for these motions, which appear so slow and gentle 

 to the eye, are irresistible in their force; and as the 

 chances are against the two vessels moving exactly in 

 the same direction at the same moment, they must 

 speedily grind or tear one another to pieces. Sup- 

 posing them to come in contact side by side, the first 

 roll would probably tear away the fore and main 

 channels of both ships; the next roll, by interlacing 

 the lower yards, and entangling the spars of one ship 

 with the shrouds and backsta} r s of the other, would, 

 in all likelihood, bring down all three masts of both 

 ships, not piecemeal, as the poet hath it, but in one 

 furious crash. Beneath the ruins of the spars, the 

 coils of rigging, and the enormous folds of canvas, 

 might lie crushed many of the best hands, who, from 

 being always the foremost to spring forward in such 

 seasons of danger, are surest to be sacrificed. After 

 this first catastrophe, the ships would probably drift 

 away from one another for a little while, only to 

 tumble together again and again, till they had ground 

 one another to the water's edge, and one, or both of 

 them, would fill, and go down. In such encounters 

 it is impossible to stop the mischief; and oak and 

 iron break and crumble in pieces like sealing-wax 

 and pie-crust. Many instances of such accidents are 

 on record, but 1 never witnessed one. 



