WRECK OF THE MEDUSA. 



125 



cle would have rendered me furious. These pains were not per- 

 manent, but returned from time to time, more or less violent. 



The ensuing night brought new confusion on our unhappy raft : 

 our desperation at seeing no succour arrive, was the cause. The 

 people gave themselves up to mad fury, and madly attempted to 

 throw all the officers into the sea. Finally, a third fit of despair 

 deprived us of thirteen more of our comrades ; so that, for the five 

 last days, we were reduced from one hundred and fifty to fifteen 

 living on the raft. The history of these five days I now write. 



Till this moment, the destruction of thoughts had, in a manner, 

 thrown a veil over the horror of our situation ; and in these scenes 

 of horror and murder, our character was totally changed. The 

 only passions that animated us were mistrust, selfishness, and 

 brutaUty ; we looked with indifference on the body of an unfortunate 

 companion who had fallen under such accumulated misfortunes. 



It is scarcely possible to imagine the moral revolution occasion- 

 ed by despair and want ; and as a modern author well says, 

 " When we enjoy the superfluities of life, it is easy to look at mis- 

 fortune with the wrong end of the spy-glass, which removes ob- 

 jects to a great distance, so that you can no longer distinguish 

 its frightful attendants but in miniature." Let us pursue our nar- 

 rative. During the last days we passed on the raft, a return of 

 reason came to enlighten us on our situation, and render our suf- 

 ferings more sensible. This state was quite similar to that of a 

 person seized with a violent ataxic fever ; all of a sudden he re- 

 covers his tranquillity, but death, which follows almost immediate- 

 ly, alone instructs him respecting the cause of this deceitful calm. 

 I have no longer to relate the furious actions dictated by dark 

 despair, but the unhappy state of fifteen exhausted creatures, re- 

 duced to frightful misery. Our gloomy thoughts were fixed on 

 the little wine that was left, and we contemplated with horror the 

 ravages despair and want had made among us. " You ai^e much 

 altered !" says one of my companions seizing my hand, and melt- 

 ing into tears. Eight days' torments had rendered us no longer 

 like ourselves. 



At length, seeing ourselves so reduced, we summoned up all 

 our strength, and raised a kind of stage to rest ourselves upon. 

 On this new theatre we resolved to wait death in a becoming man- 

 ner. We passed some days in this situation, each concealing his 

 despair from his nearest companion. Misunderstanding, however, 

 11* 



