PLEASUEE AFTER PAIN. 97 



long as the weather continued dry, but on the third day 

 the rain came down in torrents — often extinguishing our 

 cigars ; but we took fresh ones, still maintained our ground 

 on deck, and puffed away bravely in hopes of better times. 

 Towards the end of our wretched voyage, sheer hunger 

 made us purchase some bad salt pork, and sausages crammed 

 mth garlic, as our own barrels of provisions were hooped 

 up, and if we broke bulk there might be a sorry account of 

 them. 



" At length, with beards like Jews — cold, wet, half 

 starved, and every way miserable, we reached the mouth of 

 the Malbaie river, where we had bespoke lodgings, at the 

 house of a Canadian named Chaperon. 



" By a beneficent ordination, oru- sense of present 

 enjoyment is keen in proportion to the recollection of 

 recent discomfort or distress ; but I shall say nothing of 

 the converse of this, having little to do with that branch 

 of the subject at present. Dryden has condensed the idea 

 in five words — 



' Sweet is pleasure after pain.' 



Indeed the sensations of my friend and myself, when at 

 length we found ourselves clean and comfortable in M. 

 Chaperon's pleasant parlour, were much to be envied. 

 Sweet, very sweet, was our shave, and our bath, and the 

 feel of cool linen, and the sense of total renovation per- 

 vading our whole persons — but, shade of Apicius ! how 



H 



