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diff --git a/42845-0.txt b/42845-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f404ad --- /dev/null +++ b/42845-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9248 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42845 *** + +Transcriber's Note + +Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. + +All oe ligatures were converted to oe. + + + + +THE SEA. + + + + +_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_, + +And by the same Author. + + + _LOVE_ (L'AMOUR.) (_Twenty-seventh edition._) Price, $1,00 + _WOMAN_ (LA FEMME.) (_Thirteenth edition._) 1,00 + _THE CHILD_ (L'ENFANT.) (_In press._) + _THE INSECT_ (L'INSÈCTE) Its Life, Loves and Labors. (_In press._) + _THE BIRD_ (L'OISEAU.) Its Life, Loves, and Labors. (_In press._) + _WOMEN OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION._ (_In press._) + + + + +THE SEA + +(La Mer.) + + +From the French of + +M. J. MICHELET, + + +_Of the Faculty of Letters, Author of "A History of France," +"Love," "Woman," "The Child," "The Insect," "The Bird," +"Women of the French Revolution," etc., etc., etc._ + + +TRANSLATED FROM THE LATEST PARIS EDITION. + + +[Illustration] + +NEW YORK: + +RUDD & CARLETON, 180 GRAND STREET + +PARIS: L. HACHETTE ET Cie. + +MDCCCLXI. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by + + RUDD & CARLETON, + + In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the + Southern District of New York. + + + + +EXTRACT FROM THE LONDON ATHENÆUM, Feb. 9. 1861. + + +'The Sea' is another of M. Michelet's dreamy volumes,--half science, +half fancy, with a blending in both of sensuous suggestion. M. +Michelet takes the seas of the world in his hands, manipulates them, +invokes their monsters, assembles all their finny droves, gossips with +the sirens, sails among the Hyperborean waters with Behemoth, and is +on intimate terms with Tennyson's little shell-king, who lives in a +palace with doors of diamond, and wears a rainbow frill, for the +admiration of the nations that dwell in his dim, sunken wildernesses. +* * * * * He discourses upon marine terrors and beauties, and tells +the reader, as a sublime Peter Parley might, that the salt of all the +seas, if piled upon America, would spread over the continent a solid, +cliff-edged mass, 4,500 feet high. There are chapters on Sands, Cliffs +and Beaches; on Waves; on the anatomy of the Sea itself, which +resembles "a gigantic animal arrested in the earliest stage of its +organization;" on Tempests; on the sympathy between Air and Water; on +the Fecundity of the Sea, which, were it not self-devouring, would +putrefy, according to M. Michelet into one solid mass of herring; on +Fish of every species, and especially on Pearls. The Queens of the +East, he says, dislike the gleams of the diamond. They will allow +nothing to touch their skins except pearls. A necklace and two +bracelets of pearls constitute the perfection of ornament. The pearls +silently say to the woman, "Love us! hush!" In the North, too, dainty +Countesses love their pearls,--wearing them beneath their clothes by +night and by day, concealing them, caressing them, only now and then +exposing them. So do the Odalisques of Asia prize the soft linen +vestment that just covers their limbs, never taking it off until worn +out, which says little for Oriental baths. + + * * * * * + +The book is pleasant reading, like all else that M. Michelet writes. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + Page + +Extract from The London Atheneum, 5 + + +BOOK FIRST. + + A GLANCE UPON THE SEAS. + + I. The Sea as seen from the Shore, 11 + II. The Beach, the Sands, and the Iron Bound Coast, 19 + III. The Same, (_Continued_) 24 + IV. The Same, (_Continued_) 81 + V. The Fiery and the Watery Circle. The Currents of the Sea, 40 + VI. Tempests, 58 + VII. Tempests (_Continued_) 63 + VIII. The Storm of October, 1859, 72 + IX. The Beacons, 91 + + +BOOK SECOND. + + THE GENESIS OF THE SEA. + + I. Fecundity, 105 + II. The Milky Sea, 114 + III. The Atom, 128 + IV. Blood-Flower, 139 + V. The World Makers, 149 + VI. Daughter of the Seas, 160 + + VII. The Stone Picker, 173 + VIII. Shells, Mother of Pearl, and Pearl, 182 + IX. The Sea Rovers (Poulpe, &c.) 194 + X. Crustaceæ. Battle and Intrigue, 202 + XI. The Fish, 212 + XII. The Whale, 225 + XIII. The Syrens, 236 + + +BOOK THIRD. + + CONQUEST OF THE SEA. + + I. The Harpoon, 251 + II. Discovery of the Three Oceans, 260 + III. The Law of Storms, 275 + IV. The Polar Seas, 289 + V. Man's War upon the Races of the Sea, 306 + VI. The Law of the Ocean, 319 + + +BOOK FOURTH. + + THE RESTORATION OF THE SEA. + + I. Origin of Sea Bathing, 329 + II. Choice of Coast, 340 + III. The House, 349 + IV. First Aspiration of the Sea, 360 + V. Baths. Restoration of Beauty, 369 + VI. The Restoration of Heart and Brotherhood, 377 + VII. The New Life of the Nations, 388 + +Notes. 401 + + + + +BOOK FIRST. + + A GLANCE UPON THE SEAS. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE SEA AS SEEN FROM THE SHORE. + + +A gallant Dutch seaman, a cool and stern observer, who has passed his +whole life at sea, frankly tells us that his feeling on first seeing +the ocean was _fear_. For all terrestrial animals, water is the +non-respirable element, the ever heaving but inevitably asphyxiating +enemy; the fatal and eternal barrier between the two worlds. We need +not, all things being considered, be at all surprised, if that immense +mass of waters which we call the sea, dark and inscrutable in its +immense depths, ever and always impresses the human mind with a vague +and resistless awe. + +The imaginative Orientals see it only and call it only, as, the _Night +of the Depths_. In all the antique tongues, from India to Ireland, the +synonymous or analogous name of the sea is either _Night_ or the +_Desert_. + +Ah! With what a great and a hallowed and a hallowing, with what an at +once soothing and subduing melancholy it is that, evening after +evening, we see the Sun, that great world's joy, that brilliant, +life-quickening, and light-giving Sun of all that lives, fade, sink, +die--though so surely to rise and live again! Ah! as that glorious +light departs, how tenderly do we think of the human loves that have +died from us--of the hour when we, also, shall thus depart from human +ken, lost, for the time, to this world--to shine more gloriously in +that other world, now dark, distant, unknown, but certain. + +Descend to even a slight depth in the sea, and the beauty and +brilliancy of the upper light are lost; you enter into a persistent +twilight, and misty and half-lurid haze; a little lower, and even that +sinister and eldritch twilight is lost, and all around you is Night, +showing nothing, but suggesting everything that darkness,--handmaiden +of terrible Fancy--can suggest. Above, below, beneath, all around, +darkness, utter darkness, save when, from time to time, the swift and +gracefully terrible motion of some passing monster of the deep makes +"darkness visible" for a brief moment--and, then, that passing gleam +leaves you in darkness more dense, more utter, more terrible, than +ever. Immense in its extent, enormous in its depth, that mass of +waters which covers the greater part of our globe seems, in truth, a +great world of shadows and of gloom. And it is that which, above all, +at once fascinates and intimidates us. Darkness and Fear! Twin +sisters, they! In the early day, the at once timid and unreasoning +Childhood of our race, men imagined that where no Light was, neither +could there be Life; that in the unfathomed depths, there was a black, +lifeless, soundless, Chaos; above, nought but water and +gloom,--beneath, sand, and shells, the bones of the wrecked mariner, +the rich wares of the far off, ruined, and vainly bewailing +merchant;--those sad treasures of "that ever-receiving and +never-restoring treasury--the Sea." + +The waters of the sea afford us no encouragement by their +transparency. Look not there for the seductive, brightly sparkling, +and ever-smiling nymph of the fountain. Opaque, heavy, mighty, +merciless, your sea is a liquid Polyphemus, a blind giant that cares +not, reasons not, feels not--but hits a terribly hard blow. Trust +yourself upon that vast and ever-heaving bosom, bold swimmer, and +marvellously will you be upheld; the mighty thing that upholds you +dominates you, too; you are a mere weak child, upheld, indeed, for the +instant by a giant-hand--in another moment that giant-hand may smite +you with a giant's fatal force. + +Her anchor once tripped, who can tell whither the good ship may be +urged by some sudden wind, or some unsuspected but irresistible +current? Thus it was that our northern fishermen, not only without +their intention, but even in spite of it, discovered polar America, +and supped full of the horrors of funereal Greenland. Not a nation +upon the earth but has its tales and traditions of the sea. Homer and +the _Arabian Nights_, have handed down to us a goodly number of those +frightful legends, of shoals and tempests and of calms no less +murderous than tempests,--those calms during which the hardiest sailor +agonizes, moans, loses all courage and all hope in the tortures of the +hours, days, haply even weeks, when, with cracked lip and +blood-shotten eye, he has around him, heaving upward and sinking +downward, but never progressing a cable's length, + + "Water, water, everywhere, + But not a drop to drink." + +Thrilling and saddening legends have all our old writers handed down +to us of the Anthropophagi, those loathsome man-eaters, and of the +Leviathan, the Kraken, the great sea-serpent, &c. The name given to +the great African desert--_The Abode of Terror_,--may very justly be +transferred to the sea. The boldest sailors, Phoenicians and +Carthaginians, the conquering Arabs who aspired to encircle and grasp +the whole world, seduced by what they heard of the Hesperides and the +land of gold, sailed out of the Mediterranean to the wide ocean, but +soon were glad to seek their port again. The gloomy line eternally +covered with clouds and mist which they found keeping their stern +watch before the equator, intimidated them. They lay to; they +hesitated; from man to man ran the murmur "_It is the Sea of +Darkness_--and, then, back went they to port and, there told to +wondering landsmen what wonders they had seen, and what horrors they +had imagined." Woe to him who shall persist in his sacrilegious +espionage of that dread region! On one of those weird and far isles +stands a sternly-threatening Colossus, whose sempiternal menace +is--"Thus far thou hast come--farther thou shalt not go!" + +Childish as we may think those terrors of the long by-gone ages they +really were much the same as the emotions which we may any day see +evinced by an inland-born novice who for the first time looks upon the +sea. And not merely man, but all animals, experience the same +surprise, the same shock, when suddenly brought face to face with the +mighty water-world. Even at ebb tide, when the water so gently and so +lovingly caresses, as it leaves, that shore to which it shall so +boisterously return, your horse quite evidently likes it not; he +shudders, balks, snorts,--and very often bolts from it at the very top +of his speed. Your dog recoils, howls, and, after his own canine +fashion, returns insult for insult to the waves that annoy and terrify +him; he never concludes a real peace with the element which to him +seems less doubtful than positively hostile. A certain traveller tells +us that the Kamtschatkan dogs, accustomed as they are to the sight of +the sea, are nevertheless irritated and alarmed by it. During the long +nights immense troops of them howl back to the howling waves that +break, in their furious might, upon the iron-bound shores of the +northern ocean. + +The natural introduction, the portico, the ante-room, of the Ocean, +which prepares us thoroughly to appreciate its vast and melancholy +extent, is to be found in the dreary course of the rivers of +north-western France, the vast sands of the South, or the sad and +rarely trodden _Landes_ of Brittany. All who approach the sea by any +of those routes are greatly impressed by that intermediate region. All +along the rivers, there is a seemingly infinite chaos of roots and +stumps, of willows and the like water-loving vegetation, and the +waters becoming more and more brackish, at length become absolutely +salt--the veritable sea-water. In the Landes, on the other hand, as we +approach the sea, we have a preliminary and preparatory sea of +low-growing and coarse shrubs, broom, and bushes. Proceed a league or +two, and you see sickly and drooping trees which seem, after their +manner, to tell you how much they suffer from the blighting breath of +their near neighbor, and great tyrant, the Sea. Evidently, if they +were not held there by their great strong roots they would fly to some +climate more genial and some soil more generous; they turn every +branch from the sea and towards the earth, as though they were a +routed host, disorganized, panic-stricken, and prepared to seek safety +in flight. Fixed to the soil, they bend themselves eastward, +twisting, writhing, mutely agonized at every new assault of the +storm-winds from the seaward. Still nearer to the Sea, the trunk of +the tree is slender, its stature dwarfish, and its few poor branches +spread themselves confusedly to the horizon. On the shore, on the very +margin and boundary line between land and Sea, where the crushed +shells rise in a fine and pungent dust, the trees are invaded, +covered, choked up with it; their pores are closed, they inhale no +air, they are stifled; still living as to form, they are mere +petrified trees, spectral trees, melancholy shadows which have not +even the privilege of departing,--sad prisoners--even in death! Long +before we are face to face with the Sea, we can hear and imagine that +grand and terrible entity. At first, we hear only a dull, uniform, and +distant moaning, which grows louder and louder still, until its +majestic roar silences, or covers, all meaner sounds. Very soon we +perceive that that roar is not monotonous, but has its alternating +notes; its full, rich, mellow tenor, and its round, deep, majestic +bass. The pendulum of the clock oscillates less regularly than that +alternating moan and roar of the Ocean in its grand unrest. And this +latter, let me repeat it, has _not_ the monotony of the pendulum, for +in "what those wild waves are saying," we feel, or fancy that we feel +the thrilling intonations of life. And in fact, at high flood, when +wave rears its crest upon wave, immense, electric, there mingles with +the tumultuous roaring of the fiercely rushing waters, the sound of +the shells and pebbles, and the thousand things animate as well as +inanimate that they carry with them in their shoreward rush. When the +ebb comes, a soft murmur tells us that, together with the sands, the +sea carries back into her depths all with which for a few brief hours +the shore had been adorned or enriched. + +And how many other voices hath the mighty sea! Even when least +agitated, how her wailings and her deep sighs contrast with the dull +dead silence of the deserted shore, which seems to expect, in mute +terror, the threatening of that mighty mass which so recently laved it +with a gentle and caressing wavelet. And will she not speedily fulfil +her threat? I know not, and will not anticipate. I will not, just now, +at least, speak of those terrible concerts in which, haply, she ere +long will take the principal part; of her duets with the rocks, of the +basses, those muttered thunders which she utters in the deep caverns +of the rocky shore, or of those strange, wild, weird, shrieking tones +in which we seem to recognize the "_Help, spare, save me!_" of some +tortured or fearfully imperilled humanity. No; let us, for the +present, contemplate her in her calmer moods; when she is strong, +indeed, but not violent. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BEACH, THE SANDS, AND THE IRON-BOUND COAST. + + +We need not be at all surprised if childhood and ignorance are +astounded, _astonied_, when they first find themselves face to face +with that vast and mysterious Sphinx of the Great Master's sculpture, +the Ocean. Why, in fact, should we be astonished by their gaze of +mingled awe, admiration and bewilderment, when we ourselves, despite +our early culture and life-long experience, see so much in the great +Riddle of that great Sphinx which we cannot even hope to explain? + +What is the real extent of the ocean? That it is greater than that of +the earth is about as much as, conscientiously, we can at all +positively affirm. On the entire surface of our globe, water is the +Generality--land the Exception. But what is their relative proportion? +That, water covers four-fifths of the globe is probable, though, some +say a third or a fourth. It is difficult, not to say impossible, to +answer the question precisely. A bold explorer discovers a polar land, +lays it down, latitude and longitude, with scientific precision; in +the very next year an equally bold and no less scientific adventurer +seeks it in vain; and in all latitudes immense shoals and lovely Coral +islands form in the dark depths, rise to the surface, and disappear, +just as suddenly and unaccountably as they arose. + +The real depth of the sea is still less known to us than its extent; +we are only at the mere commencement of our early, few, and imperfect +soundings. + +The daring little liberties which we take with the surface of the +invincible element, and the confidence with which we go hither and +thither upon its unsounded depths, have really nothing to say against +the grand and well-founded pride of the Ocean, impenetrable as she is +as to her secrets, ever moving yet unchangeable, a reality, yet, in +all but a few of her phenomena, as unreal to us as the spectres of our +actual dreaming. That those mighty depths contain a whole world, a +marvellously great and diversified world, of life, love, war, and +reproduction of all sorts and sizes, we must imagine and may already +with confidence affirm; but we have only, and barely, touched upon the +threshold of that world. We are in such a hurry to leave that strange +and hostile element! If we need the Ocean, see ye, my brothers, the +Ocean in no wise needs us. Nature, fresh from the hand of Deity, +scorns the too prying gaze and the too shallow judgment of finite but +presumptuous man. + +That very element which we term fluid, shifting, capricious, suffers, +in reality, no change; on the contrary it is a very perfect model of +regularity. The really and constantly changing creature is Man. His +body of this year will have evaporated by this time next year, for, +according to Berzolius, four-fifths of our frame are water, which at +every instant we yield to the ever craving atmosphere. Fragile and +fleeting creature as Man is, he has indeed good reason for reflection +and for humility when he finds himself in presence of the great +unchanging, and, humanly speaking, unchangeable, powers of nature, +just, and grand, glorious, as is his hope, his belief, his _certainty_ +of a spiritual immortality. Despite that delightful hope, that +confident belief, that sustaining certainty, Man yet is necessarily +and terribly saddened by the smiting and strange suddenness with which +he hourly sees the thread of man's life forever broken. The Sea seems +to exult over our fleeting tenure of a life of which we cannot +anticipate, far less command, one added moment. Whenever we approach +her, she seems to murmur from her dark, inscrutable depths, +unchangeable as His will who made them--"Mortal! to-morrow you shall +pass away, but I, _I_ am, and ever shall be, unchanged, unchangeable, +mighty and mysterious. The earth will not only receive your bones but +will soon convert them into kindred and indistinguishable earth, but +I, ever and always, shall remain, main, the same majestic and +indifferent entity, the great perfectly balanced Life, daily +harmonising myself with the harmonious and majestic life of the bright +far worlds that shine above and around you." A stern and a scorning +rebuke that is which is given to our poor human pride when, twice in +our every mortal day the sea tears from our vexed shores the stony +spoils which twice in every day she scornfully and terribly hurls back +again. To any imagination but that of the trained and veteran seaman, +the fierce rush of the rising tide infallibly suggests the likeness of +a fierce and deadly combat; but when the child, or the Savage, +observes that the fury of the sea has its inevitable limits, the +terror of the child or Savage is turned--true coward-fashion--into an +unreasoning compound of hate and rage, and he as fiercely, as +impotently, pelts the terrible waves with the very pebbles which +without effort, without consciousness, she has cast, heaps upon heaps, +by ship loads, at every vast beat of her semi-diurnal pulse! Foaming, +roaring, threatening, the waves rush shoreward; the boy observes that +though they may kiss, they cannot, at his safe stand-point, submerge +his delicate little feet, returns laughter for their roarings, petty +pebbles for their impotent threats. + +I saw a battle of this sort at Havre, in July, 1831. A little boy whom +I took thither felt his young courage aroused and his young pride +stung, by the loud challenges and fierce threats of the incoming +tide, and he returned scorn for threat, feebly-thrown pebble for +surging and mighty wave. Greatly, aye, laughably unequal was the +strife between that small, white, delicate and feeble hand of the +young mortal, and the vast and terrible force which cared not about +it, feared it not, felt it not, knew it not. _Laughably_, said I? Ah! +no inclination towards laughter remains with us when we reflect upon +the fleeting existence, the ephemeral and impotent fragility of our +best beloved, our fellows, our Maker's favored, erring, vain-glorious, +and, in the last issue, utterly helpless Humanity, when in presence of +that tireless and inscrutable Eternity to which we may at any moment +be recalled! Such was one of my earliest glances at the Ocean; such +the gloomy meditations, only too truly and too sternly realized, that +were suggested to me by that combat between the fierce Sea upon which +I look so often, and the glad and laughing, and buoyant child upon +whom, alas! I shall look, lovingly and anxiously, no more. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE BEACH, THE SANDS, AND THE IRON-BOUND COAST, CONTINUED. + + +Look upon the Ocean where and when you may, you everywhere and alway +shall find her the same grand and terrible teacher of that hardest of +all the lessons man has to learn,--man's insignificance. Take your +stand upon some bold headland, from which with earnest and well +trained eye, you can sweep the entire horizon; or, wander, with +shortened ken, in the sandy desert;--go whithersoever you will, where +old Ocean shall lash the shore, and everywhere and alway, I repeat, +you shall find Ocean the same--mighty and terrible. True it is, that +our finite and dim gaze cannot discern the, humanly speaking, +_Infinity_ of the Ocean; but we feel, we instinctively comprehend, +that Infinity, and the impression made by that instructive +comprehension is even deeper than could be made by Ocean visibly to +our material eye, tangibly to our poor human hand. + +Such, so deep, so permanent, was the impression made upon me by that +wild tumultuous scene on the scourged-shore where Granville--dear old +Granville!--keeps neutral watch between Normandy and Brittany. The +wealthy, kindly and hearty, though bluff, and somewhat vulgar Normandy +with its vast outspread of orchard and meadow suddenly disappears, +and, by Granville and by the frowning Saint Michel we pass all at once +into quite another world. For Granville, though Norman as to race, is +thoroughly Breton as to aspect. Sternly, solidly, invincibly, the +great Rock rears his defiant front, and looks down in a quite insolent +contempt upon the wild surges that incessantly assault, but never +harm, that passionless and mutely mocking Titan. Let the wild winds, +unpent from their northern caverns, sweep the rugged coast; borne on +the cross-currents from the angry West, let the wind sweep all things +else clear from its path and this stern unconquerable rock ever and +alway saith "thus far shalt thou come, but no farther. Strengthened +though you are by your mad trans-Atlantic leap of a thousand leagues, +against me your fury shall be spent in vain." + +I loved that odd and somewhat dull little town, which owes its support +to the distant and most perilous fishery. Every family there, feels +that it is supported by a dread game in which human life is at stake; +and this feeling produces a certain harmonious gravity in the aspect +and tone of the dwellers hereabout, and of all their surroundings. A +touching and a hallowing melancholy, that, of which I have often felt +the influence, when, walking on the already darkening shore or gazing +from the upper town that crowns the great rock, I have seen the sun +sink below the far and misty horizon, harshly streaked by alternate +rays of luridness and gloom, and not pausing to tint the sky with +those glowing and fantastic brilliances which in other climes delight +us. Here it is already autumn in August, and twilight scarcely exists. +Scarcely has the sun set, when the shrewd winds freshen, and the dark +green waves sweep on with added force; below, you see a few spectral +forms hurrying along in their dark cloaks, and from afar you hear the +melancholy bleatings of the sheep already benighted on their scanty +pasturage. + +The very small upper town rears its northern front sharply and boldly +above the very edge of a cold dark abyss, facing the great sea, and +swept by an eternal blast. This part of the place consists of only +poor houses, and in one of them I found my quarters with a poor man, a +maker of those pretty shell pictures for which the place is famous. +Ascending by a ladder, rather than a staircase, into a dark little +room, I looked out upon the strange wild scene, as strange and tragic, +as wild and impressive, as that which had presented itself, when, also +from a window, I had caught my first view of the great glacier of the +Swiss Grindelwald. The glacier had shown an enormous monster of +peaked icebergs which seemed crashing down upon me; and this vexed sea +of Granville seemed an army of monstrous waves all rushing together to +the attack. + +My host here, though far from old, was feeble and suffering, and, as I +examined his shell work and talked with him, I perceived that his mind +was somewhat shaken. Poor fellow; upon that shore his only brother had +perished, and from that moment the sea appeared to him an intelligent +and persistent enemy. In the winter it beat his windows with snow or +with icy winds, and kept him sleepless and peaceless during the long +and dreary nights, and in the summer it brought him the vivid +lightnings and the far resounding thunders. At the high tides it was +still worse; the spray then beat upon his very windows, and he felt +doubtful if some day he would not be drowned even on his own hearth. +But he had not the means of finding a more secure shelter, and perhaps +he was unconsciously retained there by we know not what strange +fascination. He had not resolution to break altogether with that +terrible foe, for which he had a certain respect, as well as a great +awe. He seldom spoke of it by name; like the Icelander who, when at +sea, does not name the Ourque, lest she should hear, and appear. I +fancy that even now I can see his pale face, as, pointing to the +wave-beaten beach, he said--"That terrifies me!" + +Was he a lunatic? Not at all. He spoke quite sensibly, and was in +reality interesting and even distinguished. A nervous being, too +delicately organized for such a scene as that in which he was placed. + +But the sea can madden, and often does. Livingstone brought from +Africa a bold and intelligent man who had hunted and killed Lions, but +had never seen the Sea. When taken on board ship, the novel sight was +too much for his brain, he became frantic, and threw himself headlong +into the heaving deep, which at once terrified and fascinated him. On +the other hand, so attached do some men become to the sea, that they +can never quit it. I have seen old pilots, compelled by infirmity to +abandon their office, fret themselves into imbecility. + +On the very summit of Saint Michael you are shown what they call +_Maniac's Shelf_; and I know no place better fitted to make one mad +than that giddy height. All around a vast stretch of white sand, +solitary ever, and ever treacherous. It is neither land nor water; it +is neither sea water nor fresh, though streams are constantly flowing +beneath. Rarely, and but for brief moments, a boat can cross there, +and if you cross when the water is out you risk being swallowed in. I +can state that with full authority, for I nearly lost my life there. A +very light vehicle in which I ventured there, and the horse that drew +it, disappeared in too, and only by a perfect miracle I escaped on +foot, feeling myself sinking at every step. At length, however, I +reached the Rock, that gigantic Abbey, Fortress and Prison, that +frowning sublimity, so well worthy of the scene which it so sternly +dominates. This is no place for a detailed description of such a +monument. On a huge block of granite, that Titanic pile rises and +rises still, rock upon rock, age upon age, and still dungeon above +dungeon. At the foot, the _in pace_ of the Monks; higher up, the iron +cage made by Louis XI.; higher still, that of Louis XIV.; higher +still, the prison of our own day. And all this in a whirlwind, a +perpetual tempest; a Sepulchre without the Sepulchre's peace. + +Is it the fault of the sea, if this beach is treacherous? Not at all. +There, as elsewhere, the Sea arrives strong and loud, indeed, but in +all frankness and loyalty. The real fault is in the land, apparently +solid, but undermined by numberless streams of fresh water which +converts that seemingly solid beach into a treacherous and devouring +quagmire. And especially is the fault in the ignorance and negligence +of man. In the long dark ages when man invented the legend and the +pilgrimage of the Archangel who vanquished the Devil, the Devil took +possession of that deserted plain. The sea is quite innocent in the +matter. Far, indeed, from doing harm, the sea upon its madly bounding +waves brings in a nourishing and fecundating salt more precious than +the fat slime of the Nile, enriching the once hideous marshes of Dol +into the lovely gardens of our own day. The Sea is a somewhat violent +mother, no doubt;--but a mother still. Abounding in fish, she lavishes +upon the opposite Cancale, and upon many another bank, millions, +thousands of millions, of oysters, whose crushed shells give beauty, +and verdure, and flowers, and fruit. We must enter into a right +understanding with the Sea, and not be led away by the false notions +which its barren beach or its own more violent phenomena--often only +the disguises of very real and very great benefits--may suggest to +us. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE BEACH, THE SANDS, AND THE IRON-BOUND COAST, CONTINUED. + + +The headlands, the sandy beaches, the bold capes and the low shores, +command various, but ever useful, views of the great sea, stern and +wild at the first glance, but divine and friendly, as we come to know +it better. The advantage of the headlands is that at the foot of one +of those giant rock-walls we more entirely than elsewhere appreciate +the breathing and bounding pulse of the sea. Insensible, +imperceptible, on the Mediterranean, that pulse is very distinct on +the ocean. The Ocean breathes and pulsates, even as you and I do; it +compels me to calculate my days and hours, and to look up to Heaven. +It reminds me alike of myself and of the world. Let me seat myself +upon some such shore, that, for instance, of Antifer, whence I may +look out upon that vast expanse. The sea which, but a moment agone, +seemed dead, has suddenly shuddered and become tremulous--first +symptom of the great approaching movement. The tide has heaved past +Cherbourg and Barfleur, and turned sharply and violently round the +lighthouse; its divided waters lave Calvados, rush upon Havre and come +to me at Étretat, at Fécamp, at Dieppe, to hurl themselves into the +canal despite the strong Northern currents. It is for me to watch its +hour. Its height, almost indifferent to the sandhills, is here, at the +foot of the headland, alike worthy of your attention and powerful to +command it. This long rock-wall of thirty leagues has but few +stairways. Its narrow inlets, which form our smaller havens, occur at +rare and great distances. And at low water we can with inquiring gaze +inspect and question the strata above strata, gigantically and +regularly superposed, which, as so many Titanic registers, tell us the +history of accumulated ages of growth and decay, of life and death. +From that great open book of time every year tears away a page. We +have before us a piece of an hourly perishing, hourly renewing, world, +which the sea from beneath is hourly devouring, and the torrents and +the tempests, the frosts and the thaws from above, are hourly, and +still more destructively, attacking. Wearing, crushing, beating, +pulverising, wave, and wind, and storm and Time, that great _Edax +rerum_, that unsparing and untiring Moth of the Universe, are, even as +we gaze, converting the one vast rocky mass into the rounded and petty +pebble. It is this rough work which makes this coast, so richly +fertile on the land side, a real maritime desert on the seaward. A +few, very few, sea plants survive the eternal crushing and grinding of +the ever crushed and ever crushing pebbles driven hither and thither +by every wave that every wind scourges into motion. The molluscæ, and +even the very fish shun this vexed shore. Great contrast that between +an inland country so genial, and such a stern, rugged, threatening and +inhospitable coast. + +It is only to be seen thoroughly when looked down upon from the bold +headland. Below, the hard necessity of toiling over the beach, the +sand yielding, and the pebbles round, hard, and rolling, makes the +task of traversing this narrow beach a real and violent gymnastic +exercise. No; let us keep to the heights where splendid villas, noble +woods, the waving harvests, the delicious gardens which even to the +very edge of the great rocky wall, look down upon that magnificent +channel which separates the two shores of the two great empires of the +world. + +The land and the sea! What more! Both, here, have a great charm; +nevertheless, he who loves the sea for her own sake, he who is her +friend, her lover, will rather seek her in some less varied scene. To +be really intimate with her, the great sandy beaches, provided, +always, that they be not too soft, are far more convenient. They allow +of such infinite strolls! They suffer us so well to build up our air +castles, and to meditate upon so many things; they allow us to hold +such familiar and deep conference with that never silent sea! Never do +I complain of those vast and free arenas in which others find +themselves so ill at ease. When there, I am never less lonely than +when alone. I come, I go, I feel that ever present sea. It is there, +ever there, the sublime companion; and if haply that companion be in +gentle mood, I venture to speak, and the great companion does not +disdain to speak to me again. How many things have we not said to each +other in those quiet wastes, when the crowd is away, on the limitless +sands of Scheveningen, Ostend, Royan, and Saint Georges. There it is +that in long interviews we can establish some intimacy with the Sea, +acquire some familiarity with its great speech. + +When from the towers of Amsterdam the Zuyderzee looks muddy, and when +at the dykes of Scheveningen the leaden waves seem ready to overleap +the earthy mound, the Sea wears its least pleasing aspect; yet I +confess that this combat between land and water attracts me +forcibly--this great invention, this mighty effort, this triumph of +man's skill and man's labor, over the fiercest force of inanimate +nature. + +And this sea also pleases me by the treasures of fecund life which I +know to abound in its dark depths. It is one of the most populous in +the world. On the night of St. John, when the fishery opens, you may +see another sea arise from the depths--the Sea of Herrings. You will +imagine that the boundless plain of waters will prove too limited for +this great living upburst, this triumphant revelation of the boundless +fecundity of Nature. Such was my first impression of this sea, and +when I saw the pictures in which genius has so well marked its +profound character, Ruysdaël's gloomy _Estacade_ beyond any other +painting in the Louvre has always irresistibly attracted me. Why? In +the ruddy tints of those phosphorescent waters, I feel not the cold of +the North Sea, but the fermentation, the stream, the rushing energy of +life. + +Nevertheless, were I asked what coast the most grandly and powerfully +impresses me, I should answer, that of Brittany, especially those wild +and sublime headlands of granite which terminate the old world at that +bold point which dominates the Atlantic and defies the western storm +winds. Nowhere have I better felt than there, those lofty and +ennobling melancholies which are the best impressions of the sea. + +But I must explain, here. There are different melancholies; there is a +melancholy of the weak, and a melancholy of the strong,--the +melancholy of the too sensitive souls who weep only for themselves, +and that of the disinterested hearts, which cheerfully accept their +own lot, and find nature ever blessing and blessed, but feel the +evils of society, and in melancholy itself find strength for action, +means for creating good or mitigating evil. Ah! what need we have, we +of the working brain, often to strengthen our souls in that mood which +we may call _heroic melancholy_. + +When, some thirty years since, I paid a visit to this country, I could +not account for the potent attraction that it had for me. At the +foundation of this attractive potency of Brittany, is its great +harmony. Elsewhere, we feel, though we cannot explain it to ourselves, +a certain discordance between the race and the soil. The very +beautiful Norman race, in those districts in which it is most unmixed, +and where it retains the peculiar, ruddy complexion of the true +Scandinavian, has not the slightest apparent affinity with the +territory upon which it has intruded itself. In Brittany, on the +contrary, on the most ancient geological formation on our globe, on +that soil of granite and of flint, lives a race solid as that granite, +sharp as that flint, a sturdy and antique race. Just as much as +Normandy progresses, Brittany retrogrades. Witty, lively, and too +imaginative, the impossible, the utterly absurd, are ever welcome to +her. But, if wrong on many points, she is great upon a most important +one; she has character; often you may think her erroneous, but never +can you deem her common-place. + +If we would for a time emerge from that wretched common-place, that +deadly liveliness, that horrible waking dream "of stupid starers and +of loud huzzas," let us seat ourselves on one of the impending and +commanding peaks that overlook the bay of Douarnenez,--the stern, bold +headland, for instance, of Penmark. Or, if the wind blow too strongly +there for our frame, effeminated by the late hours, the bad +atmosphere, and the hateful habits, and still more hateful passions, +of the thronged city, let us take a quiet sail among the lower isles +of the Morbihan, where the soft warm tide is lazy, and all but +soundless. Where Brittany is mild, Brittany is surpassingly mild. +Sailing among her islands and on her gentler tides, you might fancy +yourself on Lethe; but, on the other hand, when Brittany is aroused, +Brittany, take my word for it, is terribly strong and terribly in +earnest! + +In 1831 I felt only the sadness of that coast, not its more than +compensating inspiration; I was yet to learn the real character of +that sea. It is in the most solitary little creeks, pierced in between +the wildest and most rugged looking rocks, that you will find her +truly gay, joyous, buoyant, abounding in glad and vigorous life. Those +rocks seem to you to be covered by you know not what greyish ashy +asperities--look a little more closely and you perceive that that +layer of seeming dust is a little world of living creatures, left +there high and dry by the ebb of the sea, to be revived and fed again +next tide. There, too, you see our little stone workers, hosts upon +hosts of those sea hedge-hogs or urchins, which M. Cailland has so +intelligently watched and so admirably described. All this swarming +though minute world chooses and feels just contrariwise to our choice +and our feeling. Beautiful Normandy terrifies them; the hard pebbles +of the beach would crush them, and they love not, either, the +crumbling limestone that overhangs the more smiling shore, for they +care not to build where at any moment building and foundation may sink +into the depths forever. They love and affect only the solid rocks of +Brittany. Let us take a lesson from them, and trust only to truth and +not to mere appearance. The marine life shuns precisely those +enchanting shores whose vegetable life is the most abounding and the +most brilliant. They are rich, but rich only in fossils; very curious +are they to the geologist, but they yield to him only the bones of the +dead. The stern granite, on the contrary, looks down upon the sea +swarming with its piscine life, and supports upon its massive breast +the humble, but none the less interesting little molluscæ whose +laborious life makes the serious charm, the great moral of the sea. + +And yet amidst all that teeming life there is a deep silence; that +infinite population is ever and inevitably silent. Its life is +self-concentrated, its labors unmarked, uncheered, by a sound; it has +no connection with you or me--to us, that life is only another aspect +of Death. A great and a dead solitude, says some feminine heart; it +alarms, it saddens me. + +Wrong! All here is lovable and friendly. These little creatures speak +not to the world, but they all the time are hard at work for it. They +yield themselves up to the sublime voice of their sublime parent, the +Ocean, that speaks for them; by his great utterance, they speak, +confidingly, and by proxy. + +Between the silent earth and the mute tribes of the sea, a great, +strong, grave, and sympathetic dialogue is constantly carried on--the +harmonious agreement with the _Great I AM_, with himself and his great +work--that great eternal conflict which, everywhere and always, is +Love. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE FIERY AND THE WATERY CIRCLE--THE CURRENTS OF THE SEA. + + +Scarcely has the earth cast one glance upon herself ere she not merely +compares herself to the Heavens above, but vaunts her own superiority. +Geology, the mere infant, hurls a Titanic cry against her elder +sister, Astronomy, that haughty and splendid queen of all the +sciences. "Our mountains," exclaims Geology, "are not _cast confusedly +hither and thither like those stars in the sky_; our mountains form +systems in which are found the elements of a general and orderly +arrangement of which the celestial constellations present no trace." +Such is the bold and impassioned phrase which is uttered by a man as +modest as he is illustrious,--M. Elias de Beaumont. Doubtless, we have +not yet developed the order, which, yet, we may not doubt is great, +which prevails in the seeming confusion of the Milky Way, but the more +obvious regularity of the surface of the globe, the result of the +revolutions in its unfathomed and unfathomable depths, preserve +still, and ever will preserve, for the most ingenious science, many +clouds and many mysteries. The forms of that great mountain, upheaved +from the mighty mass of waters, which we call the Earth, shows many +arrangements which, while they are sufficiently symmetrical, are still +not reducible to what would seem a perfect system. The dry and +elevated portions show themselves more or less as the waters leave +them bare. It is the limiting line of the sea which, in reality, +traces out the form of continent and of island; it is by the Sea that +we commence all true understanding of Geography. + +Let us note another fact, which has been discovered only within a few +years past. The Earth presents us with some seemingly antagonistic +features. The New World, for instance, stretches from north to south, +the Old World from east to west; the sea, on the contrary, exhibits a +great harmony, an exact correspondence between the two hemispheres. It +is in the fluid portion of our world, that portion which we have +deemed to be so capricious, that the greatest regularity exists. That +which this globe of ours presents of the most rigidly regular, the +most symmetrical, is just that which appears to be most utterly free, +most entirely the mere sport of unrestricted motion. No doubt, the +vertebræ and the bones of that vast creature have peculiarities which +we, as yet, are not qualified to comprehend. But its living movements +which cause the ocean currents, convert salt water into fresh water, +which anon is converted to vapor to return again to the salt water, +that admirable mechanism is as perfect and systematic as the +sanguineous circulation of the superior animals; as perfect a +resemblance as possible to the constant transformation of your own +venous and arterial blood. + +The world would wear quite another aspect, were we to class its +regions, not by _chains of mountains_ but by _maritime basins_. + +Southern Spain, resembles Morocco, more than Navarre; Provence, +resembles Algeria, rather than Dauphiny; Senegambia, the Amazon, +rather than the Red Sea; and the great valley of the Amazon, is more +like to the moist regions of Africa than it is to its arid neighbors, +Peru, Chili, &c. + +The symmetry of the Atlantic is still more striking in its +under-currents and the winds and breezes that sweep over it. Their +action potently helps to create these analogies, and to form what we +may call the _fraternity of the shores_. + +The principle of Geographical unity, will be more and more sought for +in the _maritime basin_, where the waters and the winds, faithful +intermediaries, create the relation, the assimilation, of the opposite +shores. Far less can we ask this illustration of Geographical unity +from the mountains, where two slopes frequently present to you, under +the same latitude, both a Flora and a population absolutely different; +on the one slope, eternal summer, on the other, eternal winter, +according to the aspect of each. The mountain rarely gives unity of +country; far more frequently, duality, discordance, actual diversity. + +This striking state of the case was first pointed out by Borg. de +Saint Vincent, and has since, in a thousand instances, been confirmed +by the discoveries of Maury. + +In the immense valley of the sea, beneath the double mountain of the +two continents, there are, strictly speaking, only two basins:-- + +1. _The basin of the Atlantic_; + +2. _The great basin of the Indian Ocean, and the Pacific._ + +We cannot give the name of basin to the indeterminate cincture of the +great Austral Ocean, which has no boundary save that on the north it +is touched by the Indian Ocean, the Coraline and the Pacific. + +The Austral Ocean alone exceeds in extent all other seas together, and +covers almost one-half of the entire globe. Apparently, the depth of +that sea is in proportion to its extent. While recent soundings of the +Atlantic give a result of 10,000 to 12,000 feet, Ross and Denham found +in the Southern Ocean from 14,000 to 46,000 feet. Here, too, we may +note the mass of the Antarctic ice, infinitely more vast than the +Arctic. We shall not be very wide of the truth, if we say that the +southern hemisphere is the world of waters, the northern the world of +land. + +He who sails from Europe to cross the Atlantic, having been fortunate +enough to get clear of our ports in which he too frequently is +imprisoned by the westerly wind, and having cleared the variable zone +of our capricious seas, speedily gets into the fine climate and +constant serenity which the N. E. breezes, the genial trade-winds, +spread over sea and sky. Above and around, everything favors him, +everything smiles upon him, but, as he approaches the Line, the +inspiring breezes cease to breathe balmily upon him, and the air is +almost suffocating. He enters the circle of those calms which prevail +under the Equator, and present unchangeably their barrier between our +northern trade-winds and those of the south. Heavy mists and clouds +are all above and around him, and the tropical rains descend in mighty +torrents. Bitterly the seaman complains of those gloomy and deluging +clouds, but only for their gloomy screen what scathing beams would +descend upon the poor dizzy heads, and be reflected in smiting power +from the bright, broad mirror of the Atlantic? _But_ for those +torrents which fall upon the other face of our globe, the Indian Ocean +and the sea of Coral, what would be their fermentation in the craters +of their antique volcanoes! That dark mass of blackest clouds, once +the terror of the navigator and the obstacle to navigation, that +sudden and dense night extended over those broad waters form precisely +the safeguard, the protecting facility which softens our passage and +enables us, sailing southward still, to meet again the bright sun, the +clear sky, and the balmy mildness of the regular winds. + +Quite naturally, quite inevitably, the heats of the Line raise the +waters in masses of vapor, and form that dark band, so threatening in +appearance, but in reality so beneficent. + +The observer who from some other planet could look upon our world +would see around her a ring of clouds not unlike the belt of Saturn. +Did he seek the purpose and the use of that ring, he might, in reply, +be told--"It is the regulator which, by turns absorbing and giving +forth, equalizes the evaporation and fall of the waters, distributes +the rains and dews, modifies the heat of each country, interchanges +the vapors of the two worlds, and borrows from the southern world the +rivers and streams of our northern world." Marvellous co-partnership +and mutual reaction! South America, from the respiration of its vast +forests, condensed into clouds, fraternally nourishes the flowers and +fruits of our Europe. The air which revives and inspirits us, is the +tribute paid by the hundred isles of Asia, exhaled by the great +vegetation of Java or Ceylon, and entrusted to the great +cloud-messenger that turns with the world and sheds life and freshness +upon it. + +Place yourself in imagination upon one of the many islands of the +Pacific and look to the southward. Behind New Holland you will +perceive that the southern ocean touches with its circular wave the +two extreme points of the old and the new continents. No land in that +antarctic world; not one of those little islands or of those pretended +Polar lands which discoverers have marked only to behold their +disappearance, and which probably have been but so many icebergs. +Water, still water; water without end. + +From the same post of observation on which I have, in imagination, +placed you, in contrast with the great circle of antarctic waters, +look eastward, towards the arctic hemisphere, and you may discern what +Ritter terms the circle of fire. To speak more precisely, it is an +opened ring, formed by the volcanoes commencing at the Cordilleras, +passing by the heights of Asia, to the innumerable basaltic isles of +the eastern ocean. The first volcanoes, those of America, present, for +a length of a thousand leagues a succession of sixty gigantic Beacons +whose constant eruptions command the abrupt coast and the distant +waters. The others, from New Zealand to the North of the Philippines, +number eighty still burning, and a countless host that are extinct. +Steering northward, from Japan to Kamschatka, fifty flaming craters +dispense their ruddy lights far away to the gloomy seas of the Arctic. +In the whole, there is a circle of three hundred active volcanoes +around the eastern world. + +On the other front of the globe, our Atlantic Ocean presented a +similar appearance, prior to the revolutions which extinguished most +of the volcanoes of Europe and annihilated the continent of the +Atlantis. Humboldt believes that that great ruin, only too strongly +attested by tradition, was only too real. I may venture to add that +the existence of that continent was in logical concordance with the +general symmetry of the world, for that face of the globe was thus +harmonized with the other. There rose, with the volcano of Teneriffe, +which alone remains of them, and with our extinct volcanoes of +Auvergne, of the Rhine, &c., those which were to destroy Atlantis. +Altogether, they formed the counterpoise of the volcanoes of the +Antilles, and other American craters. + +From these burning or extinct volcanoes of India and the Antilles, of +the Cuban and the Javanese seas proceed two enormous streams of hot +water, which are to warm the north, and which we may fitly term the +aortæ of the world. They are provided, beside or beneath, with their +two counter currents which, flowing from the north, bring cold water +to compensate the flow of hot water and preserve the balance. To the +two streams of hot water which are extremely salt, the cold currents +administer a mass of fresher water which returns to the equator, the +great electric furnace, where it is heated and made salt. + +These streams of hot water, narrow at first, some twenty leagues in +breadth, long preserve their force and their identity, but by degrees +they grow weaker as they widen ultimately to about a thousand leagues. +Maury estimates that the hot water stream which flows from the +Antilles in a northernly course towards us displaces and modifies a +fourth part of the waters of the Atlantic. These great features in the +life of the seas, noticed only recently, were, however, as visible as +the continents themselves. Our great Atlantic and her sister, the +Indian artery, proclaim themselves by their color. In each case it is +a great blue torrent which traverses the green waters; so darkly blue +is this torrent, that the Japanese call theirs the _black river_. Ours +is very clearly seen, as it leaps boilingly from the Gulf of Mexico, +between Cuba and Florida, and flows west, salt, and distinguishable +between its two green walls. In vain does the Ocean press upon it, on +either side, it still flows on, unbroken. By I know not what intrinsic +density, or molecular attraction, these blue waters are so firmly held +together, that, rather than admit the green water, they rear their +centre into an arch, and they thus slope to the right and to the left, +so that anything thrown into them rolls off into the ocean. Rapid and +strong, this Gulf stream at first flows towards the north, along the +shores of the United States; but, on reaching the great bank of +Newfoundland, its right arm sweeps off to the eastward, while the left +arm, as an under current, hastens to create, towards the Pole, the +recently discovered open sea where all else around is fast frozen. The +right arm spreading out, and proportionately weakened, at length +reaches Europe, touches Ireland and England, which again divide the +waters previously divided at Newfoundland. Weaker and weaker, it yet +carries a little warmth to Norway, and carries American woods to that +poor Iceland which, but for them, would die frozen beneath the very +fires of her volcano. + +The Indian and the American streams have this in common, that, +starting from the Line, from the electric centre of the globe, they +carry with them immense powers of creation and agitation. On the one +hand they seem the deep and teeming womb of a whole world of living +creatures; on the other hand, they are the centre and the vehicle of +tempests, whirlwinds, and water spouts. So much nursing gentleness and +so much destroying fury; have we not here a great contradiction? No, +it proves only that the fury disturbs only the exterior and not any +considerable depths. The weakest creatures, shelled atomies, the +microscopic medusæ, fluid creatures that a mere touch dissolves, +availing themselves of the same current, sail, in all safety, though +the tempest is loud and fierce right above them. Few of them reach our +shores; they are met at Newfoundland by the cold stream from the Pole, +which slays them by myriads. Newfoundland is the very bone-house of +these frost-stricken voyagers. The lightest remain in suspension, even +after death; but at length sink, like snowy showers to the depths, +where they deposit those banks of shells which extend from Ireland to +America. + +Murray calls the Indian and American streams of hot water, _the two +Milky Ways of the sea_. + +So similar in color, heat, direction, and describing precisely the +same curve, they yet have not the same destiny. The American, at the +very outset, enters an inclement sea, the Atlantic, which, open to the +North, bears down the floating army of icebergs from the Pole, and it +thus early parts with much of its heat. The Indian stream, on the +contrary, first circulating among the isles, reaches a closed sea well +protected from the North, and thus for a long time preserves its +original heat, electric and creative, and traces upon our globe an +enormous train of life. + +Its centre is the apogee of terrestrial energy, in vegetable +treasures, in monsters, in spices, in poisons. From the secondary +currents which it gives off, and which flow towards the North, +results another world, that of the Sea of Coral. There, says Maury, +over a space as large as the four continents the polypes are +industriously building thousands of islands, shoals, and reefs, which +are gradually studding and dividing that sea; shoals which at present +are the annoyance and the dread of the mariner, but which will at +length rise to the surface, join together to form a continent, which, +some day--who knows? may be the refuge of the human race, when flood, +or fire, or earthquake, leave it no other shelter. + +John Reynaud in his fine article in the _Encyclopedie_, remarks that +our world is not solitary. The infinitely complicated curve which it +describes represents the forces, the various influences, which act +upon her, and bear testimony to her connection and communication with +the great luminaries of the Heavens. + +That connection and communication are especially visible with the Sun +and Moon; the latter, though the servant of earth, has none the less +power over her. As the flowers of the earth turn their heads sunward, +so does the flower-bearing earth aspire towards him. In her most +movable portion, her immense fluid mass, she raises herself and gives +visible token of feeling his attraction. She rises as far as she can +and swelling her bosom twice a day gives, at least, a sigh to the +friendly stars. + +Does not our earth feel the attraction of yet other globes? Are her +tides ruled only by the sun and moon? All the learned world say it, +all seamen believe it; thence terrible errors resulting in shipwrecks. +At the dangerous shallows of Saint Malo the error amounted to eighteen +feet. It was in 1839 that Chazallan, who nearly lost his life through +these errors, began to discover and calculate the secondary, but +considerable undulations which, under various influences, modify the +general tide. Stars less dominant than the sun and moon have, +doubtless, their share in producing the alternate rise and fall of the +waters of our globe. But under what law do they produce this effect? +Chazallan tells us;--"the undulation of the tide in a port _follows +the law of vibrating chords_." A serious and suggestive sentence, +that, which leads us to comprehend that the mutual relations of the +stars are the mathematical relations of the celestial music, as +antiquity affirmed. + +The earth, by great and secondary tides, speaks to the planets, her +sisters. Do they reply to her? We must think so. From their fluid +elements they also must rise, sensible to the rise of the waters of +the earth. The mutual attraction, the tendency of each star to emerge +from egotism, must cause sublime dialogues to be heard in the skies. +Unfortunately the human ear can hear but the least part of them. There +is another point to be considered. It is not at the very moment of +the passing of the influential planet that the sea yields to its +influence. She is in no such servile haste to obey; she must have time +to feel and obey the attraction. She has to call the idle waters to +herself, to vanquish their inert force, to attract, to draw to her +the most distant. The rotation of the world, too, so terribly +rapid, is incessantly displacing the points subjected to the +attractive power. To this we must add that the great army of waves +in its combined motion has to encounter all the opposition of natural +obstacles,--islands, capes, straits, the various curvings of shores, +and the no less potent obstacles of winds, currents, and the rapid +descent of mountain torrents, swelled by the melted snows;--these, and +a thousand other unforseen accidents occur, to alter the regular +movement into terrible strife. The ocean yields not. The display of +strength which is made by broad and swift rivers cannot intimidate +him. The waters, that the rivers pour down upon him, he heaps them up +into mountainous masses and drives them back so violently that he +seems bent on forcing them to the summits of the mountains from whence +they have descended. + +Obstacles thus numerous and various cause apparent tidal +irregularities, which at once impress and confuse our minds. None of +those irregularities is more surprising than the difference of their +time between two quite closely neighboring ports. One Havre tide, for +instance, equals two of Dieppe,--as is mentioned by Chazallon, Baude, +&c. It is greatly to the honor of human genius to have subjected +phenomena so complex to even proximately accurate calculation and +positive laws. + +But beneath these exterior movements, the sea has others within; those +under currents by which she is traversed in various directions and at +varying depths. Superposed at different depths, or flowing laterally +in opposite directions, hot currents in one direction, cold counter +currents in another, they, between them, keep up the circulation of +the sea, the exchange of salt and fresh waters, and the alternating +pulsation which is the result. The hot _pulse-beat_ is from the line +to the pole; the cold, from the pole to the line. Shall we be +warranted in saying, as it has sometimes been said, that these +currents so distinct and unmingling, may be strictly compared to the +vessels, veins and arteries, of the superior animals? Strictly +speaking, we cannot so compare them; but they have considerable +resemblance to the less determinate circulation which materialists +have lately discovered in some inferior creatures, as molluscs and +annelides. That _lacunary_ circulation supplies the want of, and at +the same time prepares, the _vascular_; the blood flows in currents +before it has precise channels. + +Such is the sea. She resembles a vast animal that has stopped short at +the first degree of organization. Who has developed the currents, +those regular fluctuation of the abysses into which we never descend? +Who has taught us the geography of those dark waters? Those that live +within or float upon those waters;--animals and vegetables. We shall +see how the huge whale and the minute shelled atomies, how even the +woods of America, floating to bleak Iceland, have concurred in +revealing the flow of hot water from the Antilles to Europe, and the +counter current of cold meeting it at Newfoundland, passing it beside +or below, and thus getting its ices melted into immense fogs. + +A vast cloud of red animalcules, carried by a tempest from Orinoco to +France, explained the great aërial current of the Southwest which +brings to our Europe the rains that have their birth place in the far +Cordilleras of South America. + +But for the constant change of waters which is made by the currents in +the depths of the sea, she would, in parts, be filled up with salt, +sands, animal and vegetable remains and the like detritus. It would be +another case of the Dead Sea, which, for want of movement, has its +banks loaded with salt, its vegetation incrusted with salt, and the +very winds that cross its surface, burning, withering, breathing only +of famine and of death. + +All the scattered observations upon currents of the air and of the +water, the seasons, the winds and the tempests, were long confined to +the memory of the fishermen and sailors, and too frequently died with +them. Meteorology, that guide of navigation, for want of being +systematized and centralized seemed vain, and was even denied rank and +usefulness as a science. The illustrious M. Biot, demanded a strict +account of the little that she had yet done. However, upon the two +opposite shores of Europe and America, persevering men founded that +neglected and denied science upon the basis of observation. + +The latest and most celebrated of these observers, Maury the American, +courageously undertook what a whole administration had recoiled from, +viz., to extract from and arrange the contents of I know not what +multitude of log books, those often confused and ill-kept records of +the sea captains. These extracts, reduced into tables under regular +heads, gave, in the result, rules and generalities. A congress of +seamen assembled at Bruxelles decided that the observations, +henceforth to be logged with more care, shall be sent from all parts +to the observatory at Washington. A noble compliment, that, paid by +Europe to young America and her patient and ingenious Maury, the +learned poet of the sea. He has not only summed up and exemplified her +laws; he has done much more, for, by the force of heart and by the +love of nature as much as by positive results, he has carried the +whole world with him. His charts and his first work, of which a +hundred and fifty thousand copies were printed, are liberally +distributed to sailors of all nations by the United States government. +A number of eminent men in France and in Holland, Tricot, Jullien, +Margole, Zurcher, and others, have made themselves the interpreters, +the eloquent missionaries, of this apostle of the sea. + +Why is it that in this matter America, so young, has outstripped +Europe, so old? It is precisely because she is young, and burning with +a desire to be in close connection with the whole globe. Upon her +superb continent and in the midst of so many states, she yet deems +herself solitary. So far from her European brother, she looks towards +that centre of civilization as the earth looks toward the sun, and +whatever seems to draw her into closer and more familiar connection +with the grand old world, thrills her in every nerve. We have abundant +proof of that from the joy, the intoxication, the perfect frenzy with +which she hailed the completion of the submarine telegraph which +joined the two distant shores, and promised that they should +communicate within the brief space of minutes, in such wise that the +two worlds should have but one thought. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +TEMPESTS. + + +It is with a very real and masterly genius that Maury has demonstrated +the harmony that exists between air and water. As is the maritime +ocean, so is the aërial ocean. Their alternating movements and the +exchange of their elements are precisely analogous. The aërial ocean +distributes heat over the world and making dryness or humidity. The +latter, the air draws from the seas, from the infinity of the central +ocean, and especially at the tropics, the great boilers of the +universal cauldron. Dryness, on the contrary, the air acquires as it +sweeps over the arid deserts, the great continents, and the glaciers +(those true intermediate poles of the globe), which draw out its last +drop of moisture from it. The heating at the equator and the cooling +again at the pole, alternating the weight and lightness of the vapors, +cause them to cross each other in horizontal currents and counter +currents; while under the line the heat which lightens the vapors +creates perpendicular currents, ascending from sea to sky. Previous to +dispersing they hover in this misty region, forming, as it were, a +ring of clouds around the globe. + +Here, then, we have pulsations both maritime and aërial, different +from the pulse of the tide. This latter was external, impressed by +other planets upon ours, but this pulse of various currents is +inherent in the earth, it is her own veritable life. + +To my taste, one of the finest things in Maury's book, is what he says +of salt: "The most obvious agent in producing maritime circulation, +heat, would not alone suffice; there is another and a no less +important agent, nay, an even more important--it is salt." + +So abundant is salt in the sea that if it could be cast on shore it +would form a mountain 4,500 feet thick. + +Though the saltness of the sea does not vary very greatly, it yet, is +augmented or diminished somewhat, according to locality, currents and +proximity to the equator or to the poles. As it is more or less +salted, the sea is lighter or heavier, and more or less mobile. This +continued, with its variations, causes the water to run more or less +swiftly, that is to say, _causes currents_, so like the horizontal +currents in the bosom of the sea and the vertical currents from the +sea of water upward to the sea of air. + +A French writer, M. Lartique, has ingeniously corrected some +deficiences and inexactitudes in M. Maury's great work "Maritime +Annals." But the American author had anticipated criticism by frankly +pointing out where and why he thought his work and his science +incomplete. On some points distinctly confining himself to hypothesis, +at times he shows himself uncertain, and anxious. His frank and candid +book quite plainly reveals the mental struggle which the author +undergoes between _biblical literalism_ and the modern sentiment the +_sympathy of nature_. The former makes the sea a thing, created by God +at once, a machine turning under his hand, while the latter sees in +the sea a living force, almost a person, in which the Loving Soul of +the World, is creating still, and ever will create. + +It is curious to observe, how, by degrees, as it were by irresistible +proclivity, Maury approaches this latter view. As far as possible he +explains himself mechanically, by weight, heat, density, &c. But this +does not suffice, and for certain cases he adds a certain molecular +attraction or a certain magnetic action. But even this does not +suffice, and then he has recourse to the physiological laws which +govern life. He attributes to the sea a pulse, veins, arteries, and +even a heart. Are these mere forms of style, simple comparisons? Not +so; he has in him--and it is one source of his strength--an imperious, +an irresistible feeling of the personality of the sea. Before him the +sea was to most seamen a thing; to him it is a person, a violent and +terrible mistress whom we must adore, but must also subdue. + +He loves, he deeply loves the sea; but on the other hand, he every +moment thinks it necessary to restrain his enthusiasm and to keep +within bounds. Like Levammerdam, Baunet and many other illustrious men +at once philosophical and religious, he seems to fear that in +explaining nature too completely by her own phenomena we show +disrespect to Nature's God. Surely, a very ill founded timidity. The +more we exhibit the universality of life,--the more we confess our +adoration of the great soul of the universe. Where would be the danger +were it proven that the sea in her constant aspiration towards +organized existence is the most energetic form of the Eternal Desire +which formerly evoked this globe and still creates in it? + +This salt sea, like blood, which has its circulation, its pulse, and +its heart (for so Maury terms the equator) in which its two bloods are +exchanged, is it quite sure that an entity that has all these is a +mere thing, an inorganic element? + +Look at a great clock, or a steam engine which imitates almost exactly +the movement of the vital forces. Is that a freak of nature? Should we +not far rather imagine that in these masses there is a mixture of +animality? + +One immense fact that he exhibits, but only secondarily, and as it +were in a mere side view, is that the infinite life of the ocean, the +myriads upon myriads of beings which it at every moment makes and +destroys, absorb its various salts to form their flesh, their shells, +&c., &c. They thus, by depriving the water of its salt, render it +lighter, and, by so much, aid in producing currents. In the potent +laboratories of animal organization, as those of the Indian ocean and +the Coraline, that force, elsewhere less remarkable, appears as what +it really is--immense. + +"Each of these imperceptibles," says Maury, "changes the equilibrium +of the ocean, they harmonize and compensate it." But is this saying +enough? Should they not be the grand moving powers which have created +the currents of the sea, put the immense machine into motion? + +Who knows whether this vital _circulus_ of the marine animality is not +the starting point of all physical _circulus_? If animalized sea does +not give the eternal impulse to the animalizable sea--not organized, +indeed, as yet, but aspiring to be so, and already fermenting with +approaching life? + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +TEMPESTS. + + +There are occasional commotions of the sea, which Maury, in his +forcible way, calls "the Sea's _spasms_." He especially alludes to the +sudden movements which appear to proceed from below, and which in the +Asiatic seas are often equivalent to a genuine tempest. These sudden +outbursts are attributed to various causes, as: 1st, the violent +collision of two tides or currents; 2nd, the sudden superabundance of +rain water on the sea's surface; 3rd, the breaking up and sudden +melting of the icebergs, &c. To these causes, some authors add the +hypothesis of electric movements and volcanic submarine heavings. + +It seems probable, however, that the depths of the great mass of the +waters are quite peaceable; were it otherwise, the sea would be +unfitted for her office of nursing-mother to her myriads upon myriads +of living beings. If these occasional commotions, so violent at the +surface, were equally so at the bottom of the sea, what could preserve +the nurslings of that great nursery where a whole world of delicate +creatures more fragile even than those of our earth, are cradled in +and nourished by its waters? The myriad-life of the Ocean assures us +that these violent commotions cannot be common in its depths. + +Naturally, the great sea is of great general regularity; subject to +great periodical and uniform movements. Tempests are the occasional +and transient violences into which the sea is lashed by the winds, by +electric power, or by certain violent crises of evaporation. They are +the mere accidents which reveal themselves on the surface, but tell us +nothing about the real, the mysterious personality of the sea. It +would be sad reasoning were we to judge of a human temperament by the +ravings of a brain-fevered man; and by what better right do we judge +the sea on account of the momentary and merely superficial movements +which probably do not make themselves felt to the depth of a very few +hundred feet? Everywhere that the sea is very deep, we may fairly +assume that she is constantly calm, ever producing, ever nourishing, +her quite literally countless brood. She takes no note of those petty +accidents which occur only at the surface. The mighty hosts of her +children that live, as we cannot too often repeat, in the depths of +her peaceful night, and rise at the most only once a year within the +influence of light and storm must love their great, calm, prolific +mother as Harmony itself. + +But these surface-disturbances of the great mother Ocean have too +serious a bearing upon the life of man, to allow of his sparing any +pains towards obtaining a thorough comprehension of them. And to +obtain that comprehension is no easy matter; in making the necessary +observations, the boldest of us is a little apt to lose his cool +presence of mind. Even the most serious descriptions give only vague +and general features, scarcely anything of the marked individuality +which makes every tempest a thing of originality, a thing _sui +generis_, the unforeseen result of a thousand unknown circumstances, +potent in their influence, but obscure far beyond our power of search. +He who safely gazes from his safe watch-tower on the shore, may, no +doubt, see more clearly, as he is not distracted by his own danger. +But for that very reason, he cannot so well appreciate the tempest in +its grand and terrible entirety, as he can who is in the very centre +of its rage and of its power, and looks in every direction upon that +terrible panorama! + +We mere landsmen are indebted to the bold navigators for at least the +courtesy of giving what old Chaucer calls "faith and full credence" to +what they tell us about what they have actually seen and suffered. It +seems to me that there is exceedingly bad taste in that sceptical +levity which men of the study, those stay-at-home travellers +occasionally exhibit in their criticisms of what seamen tell us, for +instance, about the height of the waves. They laugh at the seaman who +tells us of waves a hundred feet in height. Engineers affect to be +able to measure the tempest, and to assure us that twenty feet is the +utmost height of a wave. On the other hand, an excellent observer +assures us, on the testimony of his own sight, that standing in safety +on the shore, observing calmly, and in absence of all distraction, he +has seen waves that would overtop the towers of Notre Dame, and the +heights of Montmartre. It is abundantly evident that these opposing +witnesses speak of two totally different things; and hence their flat +contradiction. If we speak of the lower bed of the tempest, of those +long bowling waves which even in their fury preserve a certain +regularity, probably the calculation of the engineers is pretty exact. +With their rounded crests alternating with depressed valleys, it is +likely enough that their utmost height does not greatly exceed twenty +or five-and-twenty feet. But your chopping sea, where cross wave +furiously hurls itself against cross wave, rises far higher. In their +fierce collision they hurl each other to a quite prodigious height, +and fall with a crushing weight, assailed by which the stoutest craft +would open her seams, and go bodily down into the dark depths of the +angry sea. Nothing so heavy as sea water, in those mighty shocks, +those enormous falls of which sailors truthfully speak, and of which +none but those who have witnessed them, can calculate the tremendous +greatness and power. + +On a certain day, not of tempest but of emotion, when old Ocean +indulged only in wild and graceful gaieties, I was tranquilly seated +upon a beautiful headland of some eighty feet in height, and I enjoyed +myself in watching the waves as upon a line of a quarter of a league +they rushed in as if to assail my rocky seat, the green crest of each +wave rounding and rearing, wave urging wave as though in actual and +intelligent racing. Now and then a sea would strike so that my very +headland seemed to tremble, and burst as with a thunder clap at my +very feet. Advancing, retiring, returning, breaking, the wildly +sportive waves were for a long time quite admirably regular in their +movements. But on a sudden this regularity was at an end. Some wild +cross wave from the west suddenly struck my great regular and hitherto +well behaved wave from the south. Such was the crash that in an +instant the very sky above me was darkened by the blinding spray; and +on my lofty promontory I was covered, not with the many colored and +fleeting mist, but with a huge, dark, massive wave, which fell on me, +heavy, crushing, and thoroughly saturating. Ah! Just then I should +very much have liked the company of those very learned Academicians +and ultra positive Engineers, who are so well posted up in the combats +of the Ocean, and so very certain that the utmost height of a wave is +just twenty feet! No; tranquilly seated in our studies we should _not_ +lightly question the veracity of so many bold, hardy, and resolved +men, who have looked Death in the face too often to be guilty of the +childish vanity of exaggerating the dangers which they have often +braved--and are ready to brave again. Nor should we ever oppose the +calm narratives of ordinary navigators on the great and well known +courses to the animated and often thrilling pictures occasionally +presented to us by the bold discoverers who seek the very reefs and +shoals which the common herd of sailors so carefully avoid. Cook, +Peron, Durville--discoverers such as these incurred very real dangers +in the then unfrequented Australian and Coraline seas, compelled as +they were to dare the continually shifting sand bank, and the +conflicting currents which raise such frightful commotions in the +narrow channels. + +"Without tempest, with only rollers to deal with, and with a moderate +wind right abaft, a cross wave will give your craft such a shock, that +the ship's bell will strike, and if these big rollers with their +sweeping motion, continue for any time, your masts will go by the +board, your seams will open--you will be a wreck." So says the +experienced Durville--gallant sailor, if ever there was one. And he +tells us that he has himself seen waves from eighty to a hundred feet +high. "These waves," he says, "only boarded us with their mere crests, +or the craft must have been swamped. As it was she staggered, and then +for an instant stood still, as though too terrified to understand what +was the matter. The men upon the deck were for moments completely +submerged. For four long hours that night this horrible chaos endured; +and those hours seemed an eternity to turn one's hair grey. Such are +the southern tempests, so terrible that even ashore the natives have a +presentiment of their approach, and shelter themselves in caves." + +However exact and interesting these descriptions may be, I do not care +to copy them; still less would I be bold enough to invent descriptions +of what I have not seen. I will only speak briefly about tempests +which I have seen, and which have, as I believe, taught me the +different characteristics of the Ocean and the Mediterranean. + +During half a year that I passed at about two leagues from Genoa, on +the prettiest shore in the world, at Nervi, I had in that sheltered +spot but one little sudden tempest, but while it lasted it raged with +a quite wonderful fury. As I could not, quite so well as I wished, +watch it from my window, I went out and along the narrow lanes that +separate the palaces, I ventured down, not indeed, to the beach, for +in reality, there is none worthy the name, but to a ledge of black, +volcanic rock, which forms the shore, a narrow path, often not +exceeding three feet in width, and as often overhanging the sea at +varying heights of from thirty up to sixty feet. One could not see far +out; the spray continually raised by the whirlwind, drew the curtain +too closely too allow of one's seeing far, or seeing much, but all +that was to be seen was sufficiently frightful. The raggedness, the +salient and cutting angles, of this iron-bound coast, compelled the +tempest to make incredible efforts, to take tremendous leaps, as, +foaming and howling, it broke upon the pitiless rocks. The tumult was +absurd, mad; there was nothing connected, nothing regular; discordant +thunders were mingled or followed by sharp shrill shrieks, like those +of the steam engine; piercing shrieks, against which one only in vain +tried to stop his ears. Stunned by this wild scene, which assailed +sight and hearing at once, I steadied myself against a projecting wall +of rock, and thus comparatively sheltered, I was better able to study +the grandly furious strife. Short and chopping were the waves, and the +fiercest of the strife was on this side where the sea broke on the +ragged, yet sharply pointed rocks, as they rose boldly above, and ran +out far beneath the waves, in long, shelving, reefs. The eye, as well +as the ear was vexed, for a blinding snow was falling, its dazzling +whiteness heightened by contrast with the dark waves into which it +fell. + +On the whole, I felt that the Sea had less to do than the land in +rendering the scene terrible; it is exactly the contrary on the +Ocean. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE STORM OF OCTOBER, 1859. + + +The storm, which of all storms, I had the best opportunity of +observing, was that which swept in fury over the west of France, from +the 24th of October 1859, to the 31st of the same month, the +implacable and indefatigable storm, which, with but few and very short +intervals, raged furiously for six days and six nights, and strewed +our whole western coasts with wrecks. Both before and after that +storm, the barometer indicated great disturbances, and the telegraphic +communications were cut off by the breaking of the wires, or the +magnetic falsifications. Very hot seasons had preceded this tempest, +but it brought us a succession of very different weather; rainy, and +cold. Even 1860, up to the very day on which I write these lines, is +marked by heavy rain storms, and cold winds from the west, and south, +which seem to bring us all the rains of the Atlantic, and of the great +South Sea. + +I watched this tempest from a spot so smiling and peaceful that +tempest was the last thing that one would anticipate there. I speak of +the little port of Saint George, near Royan, just at the entrance of +the Gironde. I had passed an exceedingly quiet five months there, +meditating what I should say on the subject which I had treated upon +in 1859; that subject at once so serious and so delicate. The place +and the book are alike filled with memories very agreeable to me. +Could I have written that book in any other place? I know not; but one +thing is quite certain: the wild perfume of that country; its aspect, +at once staid and gentle, and the vivifying odors of its Brooms, that +pungent and agreeable shrub of the Landes, had much to do with that +book, and will ever be associated with it in my thought. + +The people of the place are well matched with its aspect and its +nature. No vulgarity, no coarseness, among them. The farming +population are grave in manner, and moral in speech and conduct, and +the seagoing population, consists, for the most part, of pilots, a +little band of Protestants, escaped from persecution. All around, too, +there is an honesty so primitive that locks and bolts are absolutely +unknown there. Noise and violence are utterly out of the question +among people who are modest and reserved, as seamen seldom are, and +who have a quiet and retiring tact not always to be found among a far +more pretentious and highly placed people. Though well known to and +well respected by them, I yet enjoyed all the solitude which study and +labor demanded. I was all the more interested in these people and +their perils. Without speaking to them, I daily and hourly watched +them in their heroic labors, and heartily wished them both safety and +success. I was suspicious of the weather, and looking upon the +dangerous channel, I often asked myself whether the sea, so long +gentle and lovely, would not, sooner or later, show us quite another +countenance. + +This really dangerous place has nothing sad or threatening in its +aspect. Every morning, from my window, I could watch the white sails, +slightly ruddied by the morning beams, of quite a fleet of small +coasters, that only waited for a wind to leave the little port. At +this port, the Gironde is fully nine miles wide. With some of the +solemnity of the great rivers of America, it combines the gaiety of +Bourdeaux. Royan is a pleasure place, a bathing town which is resorted +to by all Gascony. Its bay, and the adjoining one of St. George, are +gratuitously regaled with the wild pranks of the porpoises, that +boldly venture into the river, and into the very midst of the bathers, +leaping, at once heavily and gracefully, six feet, and more, above the +surface of the water. It would seem that they are profoundly convinced +of the fact, that no one thereabout is addicted to fishing; that at +that point of great daring and great labor, where from hour to hour +all hands may be called upon to succor some imperilled vessel, folks +will scarcely care to slay the poor Porpoise, for his oil. + +To this gaiety of the waters, add the especially harmonious beauty of +the two shores, as the abounding vineyards of Medoc look across to the +varied culture of the fertile fields of Saintonge. The sky, here, has +not the fixed, and sometimes rather monotonous beauty of the +Mediterranean, but, on the contrary, is very changeable. From the +mingling waters of sea and river, rise variegated mists, which cast +back upon the watery mirror, strange gleamings of gorgeous coloring, +rod, blue, deepest orange, and most delicately pale green. Fantastic +shapes, "a moment seen, then gone for ever," "appearing only to +depart, and seen only to be regretted," adorn the entrance to the +Ocean with strange monuments of bold collonades, sublime bridges, and, +occasionally, triumphal arches. + +The two crescent-shaped shores of Royan and Saint Georges, with their +fine sands afford to the most delicate feet a delightful promenade of +which one does not easily grow tired, tempted, and regaled as we are +by the perfume of the pines which so enliven the downs with their +young verdure. The fine promontories which overlook these shores, and +the sandy inland downs send near and far their healthful perfumes. +That which predominates on the downs has a something of medicinal, a +mingled odor, which seems to concentrate all the sun and the warmth of +the sands. The inland heaths furnish the more pungent odors which stir +the brain and cheer the heart; thyme, and wild thyme, and marjoram, +and sage which our fathers held sacred for its many virtues, and +peppermint, and, above all, the little wild violet, exhale a mingled +odor surpassing all the spicy odors of the far East. + +It seems to me that on these heaths the birds sing more beautifully +than elsewhere. Never have I heard elsewhere such a lark as I listened +to in July on the promontory of Vallière, as she rose higher and +higher, her dark wings gilded and glinting in the rays of the fast +setting sun. Her notes coming from a height of probably a thousand +feet were as sweet as they must needs have been powerful. It was to +her humble nest, to her upward gazing and listening nestlings that she +evidently sang her "wood notes wild," her song at once so rustic and +so sublime, in which one might fancy that she translated into harmony +that glorious sunlight in which she hovered, and called to her +nestlings--"Come up hither my little ones, come!" + +Out of all these, perfumes and song, soft air, and sea made mild by +the waters of the beautiful river, proceeded an infinitely agreeable, +though not very brilliant harmony. The moon shone with a softened +light, the stars were quite visible, but not very bright, and the +atmosphere so mild and pleasant, that it would have been voluptuous, +that whole scene and its accessories had there not mingled with all a +something, which made one reflect, and substituted active thought for +luxuriously idle reverie. + +And why so? Do those shifting sands, those many colored and varying +hues of the downs, and that crumbling and fossiliferous limestone +remind you of the eternal change, that one only rule which here on +earth has no exception? Or, is it the silent but undying memory of the +persecuted Protestants? It is also, and in still greater power, the +solemnity of the roadstead, the frequency of wrecks, the near +neighborhood of the most terrible of seas, by which the interior +becomes so serious, so suggestive of great and solemn thought. + +A great mystery is being enacted here, a treaty, a marriage infinitely +more important than any human and royal nuptials; a marriage of +interest between ill matched spouses. The lady of the waters of the +south-west, swelled and quickened by Tarn and Dordogne and by those +fierce brethren the torrents of the Pyrenees, hastens, that amiable +and sovereign Gironde, to present herself to her giant spouse, old +Ocean, here, more than elsewhere, stern and repulsive. The mud banks +of the Charente and the long line of sands which, for fifty leagues, +oppose him, put him in bad humor; and when he cannot hurtle fiercely +against Bayonne and Saint Jean de Luz, he pitilessly assaults the poor +Gironde. Her outlet is not like that of the Seine, between sheltering +shores; she falls at once into the presence of the open and limitless +ocean. Generally, he repels her; she recoils to the right and to the +left, and seeks shelter in the marshes of Saintonge, or among the +Medoc vineyards to whose vines she imparts the cool and sober +qualities of her own waters. + +And now imagine the boldness of the men who throw themselves headlong +into the strife between two such spouses; who go in the frail boat to +the aid of the timorous craft who wait at the mouth of the pass afraid +to venture in. Such is the boldness of my pilots here; a boldness at +once so modest, so heroic, so glorious, could it but be fully +described. + +It is easy to understand that the old monarch of shipwrecks, the +antique treasurer and guardian of so much submerged wealth bears no +great good will towards the bold ones who venture to dispute with him +his prey. If he sometimes allows them to succeed, sometimes also he +avenges himself upon them--more malignantly delighted to drown one +pilot than to wreck two ships. + +But for sometime past no such accident had been spoken of. The +exceedingly hot summer of 1859, produced only one wreck in this +neighborhood; but I knew not what agitation even then foretold +greater disasters. September came, then October, and the brilliant +crowd of visitors, loving the sea only when it is calm and smiling, +already took its departure. I still remained, partly kept there by my +unfinished work, partly by the strange attraction which that season of +the year has for me. + +In October we had strange eccentric winds, such as seldom blow there; +a burning storm-wind from the East, that quarter usually so peaceable. +The nights were occasionally very hot, even more so in October than in +August; sleepless, agitated, nervous nights; nights to quicken the +pulse to the fever pace, and without apparent cause to render one +excited and peevish. + +One day as we sat among the pines, beaten by the wind though somewhat +sheltered by the downs, we heard a young voice, singularly clear, +piercing, resonant, and, so to speak, metallic. It was the voice of a +very young girl, small in figure, but austere in countenance. She was +walking with her mother and singing snatches of an old ballad. We +invited her to sit down and sing us the whole of it. This old ballad, +this rustic little poem admirably expressed the double spirit of the +country. Saintonge is, in the first place, essentially rustic and +home-loving, with none of the wild adventurous impulses of the +Basques. And yet in spite of her sedentary tastes Saintonge turns +sailor and goes forth into not unfrequent dangers. And why? The old +ballad explains: + +The lovely daughter of a king while washing, like Nausica of the +Odyssey, loses her ring in the sea; a young lover dives in search of +it, and is drowned. She weeps his loss so bitterly that she is changed +into the rosemary of the shore, at once so bitter and so odorous. This +ballad, heard in that pine wood already shuddering and moaning at the +threatening storm, touched and delighted me, but at the same time +strengthened my secret presentiments. + +Whenever I went to Royan, I might calculate upon being overtaken, +unsheltered, in a storm, before I could accomplish that short journey +of only a few hours. It pressed upon me in the vineyards of Saint +George and the heathy table land of the promontory which I first +ascended; and it pressed upon me more heavily still as I traversed the +great semi-circular shore of Royan. Even now, in October, the heath +exhaled all its perfumes of wild flowers and shrubs, and their +perfumes seemed to me more pungent now than ever. On the still unvexed +shore, the wind, warmly and gently fanned my cheek, and the no less +gentle sea in murmuring ripples strove to kiss my feet. But for both +caressing wind and gently murmuring wave, I was too well prepared, too +suspicious, to be deceived by them. By way of prelude to the great +change, after so many beautiful and almost effeminating evenings, +suddenly, in the very middle of the night, burst forth a frightful +gale of wind. Again and again this occurred, but especially on the +night of the 26th. On that night I felt sure that some great damage +must needs be done. Our pilots had gone out on their generous and +perilous errand. During those long fluctuations of the equinoctial +weather they had hesitated somewhat, delayed some little, then they +grew impatient of delay, duty and business called to them aloud, and +they resolved to put out, at the risk of some sudden and ruinous gust. +I felt that there would be some such; I whispered to myself, "some one +perishes now." And too truly was it so. + +From a pilot boat, which, in face of the bad weather, put out to +rescue a vessel imperilled in the pass, an unfortunate man was swept +from the deck, and the boat, herself in utmost peril was unable to +lie-to for him. He left three young children and a pregnant wife. What +rendered this calamity especially to be regretted, was the fact that +this excellent young man, with the generous affection so common among +sailors, had married a poor girl rendered incapable of earning her +bread by an accident which had mutilated her hands. Alas! How much was +she to be pitied, helpless, pregnant, burdened with a young +family--and thus suddenly widowed! + +A subscription was made for her, and I went to Royan, with my mite +towards it. A pilot whom I met there, spoke to me, with real grief and +emotion, of the sad accident. "Ah, Sir," said he, "such is our hard +profession; it is precisely when wind and sea are most angry, and most +threatening, that it is especially incumbent upon us to go forth." The +marine commissioner, who keeps the register of the living and the dead +of that little community, and who, better than any one else, knows the +history and the circumstances of every family there, appeared to me to +be exceedingly saddened and anxious. It was plain that he thought, as +I did, that this was only the beginning of calamity. + +I resumed my journey along the shore, and in the course of it, I had +the opportunity to notice and study the dark zone of clouds which +hemmed me in on every side, to the extent of, I should judge, not less +than eight or ten leagues. On my left was Saintonge, expectant, dull, +passive; on my right, Medoc, from which I was separated by the river, +lay in a gloomy and misty stillness. Behind me, coming from the west +and brooding over the Ocean, was a whole world of cloud and mist, but +in my face, and opposing that world of cloud, blew the fresh +land-breeze. Sweeping down the course of the Gironde, it seemed that +the funereal pall that rose above the Ocean, might be repulsed and +dispelled. Still uncertain, I looked behind me to the shoal of +Cordovan, from which, pale, fantastic, weird, its tower rose like +some spectre that said--"Woe, woe, woe!" + +I was not mistaken. I saw quite plainly that the land-breeze not only +would be conquered, but that it would be compelled to become the +help-mate of its seeming foe. That land-breeze blew quite low over the +Gironde, swept away from before it all dwarfish obstacles, but still +hovered beneath the high pitched and inky clouds that swept in from +the Ocean, and formed for those clouds, as it were, a slippery +inclined plane over which they would glide only the more easily and +the more swiftly. In a brief space all was still from the landward, +every breath died away beneath the thick grey mists; and, unopposed, +the upper winds swept the ominous storm-clouds shoreward. + +When I reached the vineyards of Vallière, near St. George, hosts of +people were busily at work, striving to improve the brief time during +which they could hope to labor. The first heavy drops of rain came +down, solid and smiting as so much molten lead, and in another +instant, one was right glad to find a sheltering roof. + +I had seen my full share of tempests. I had read my full share of +descriptions of them; and I was prepared to expect anything and +everything from their fury and from their power. But nothing that I +had either seen or read, had prepared me for the effects of _this_ +tempest, so fierce, so long-enduring, so implacable in its unceasing +and uniform fury. When, from time to time, we have a pause, even the +slightest mitigation, even a change, however slight, in the Tempest's +moods and manifestations, our over-distended senses also relax, +recuperate, prepare themselves for the next assault. But in this case, +night after night, day after day, for six weary and wearying nights +and days, the storm-fiend never winked an eye or spared a blow. +Fierce, strong, angry, implacable; still the storm-fiend raged, +untiring, and unsparing. On mine honor, see ye! it was something to +daunt the boldest, to suggest despair to the most hopeful. No thunder, +no crashing combat of the positive and negative storm-clouds, no loud +and animating crash of the meeting and contending waves. All around +was one dark, leaden, sinister, ominous, and mysterious pall of cloud +and mist, all above us one black sky, terminated in the horizon by a +sickly and leaden line brooding over a slowly heaving and mighty mass +of leaden looking sea;--so slowly and monotonously heaving that one +almost wished for the coming storm-blast to rouse them into a fierce +fury, less terrible, less oppressive, than their horribly oppressive +monotony. No poetry of a great terror could oppress one like this most +prosaic and dark monotony. Still, still and ever, came from the deep +bosom of the coming storm the same terribly monotonous--"Woe, woe! +Alas, alas, alas!" Our abode was close upon the shore. We were no mere +spectators of that scene; we were in it, of it, sharers, actors, +thrilled actors in that sublime scene. Every now and then the wild sea +came within twenty feet of us; at every rush, she made our very hearth +stone quiver beneath our feet. Happily, the ever-rising and terrible +sou' west wind struck our windows only obliquely, or we should have +been drowned as we gazed, so vast was the torrent, nay the deluge, +which every blast bore upon its mighty bosom, alike from the clouds +above, and from the vexed and upheaving Ocean below. In haste, and +with no small difficulty, we fastened the shutters, and lighted lamps, +that we might at least look coming fate in the face. In those +apartments which looked out upon the landward, the noise and the +perturbation were no jot or tittle inferior. I wrote on, curious to +ascertain whether this wild outburst of nature could in reality +oppress and fetter a free intellect, and I thus kept my intellect +active, agile, cool, thoroughly in self-command. I wrote, I noted, I +compared, I drew mine own conclusions. At length, worn out solely by +fatigue, and abstinence, and the want of + + "Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," + +I felt myself deprived of that which I believe to be one of the most +important of the writer's powers, the quick, sure, delicate sense of +rhythm; I felt that my sentences became inharmonious. That sense of +rhythm was the first cord in my being to snap, broken, inharmonious, +over-strained,--ruined. + +The mighty howling of the Tempest had but one variation, in the weird +and strange tones of the winds that pitilessly yet mournfully assailed +us. The house in which I was seated was directly in their path; and +they therefore assaulted it in utmost fury and apparently on every +side at once. Now it was the strong, stern blow of the master, +impatient to enter his own house; anon some strong hand tried to dash +open the shutters; and again came shrill shrieks down the wide +chimneys, wailing for the master's exclusion, fiercely threatening, if +we did not admit him, and, at length, furious and mighty attempts to +force an entry by dislodging the very roof from its rafters. And all +these sounds were occasionally dominated by the sad, deep, melancholy, +_Heu, heu! Alas, alas!_ Woe, woe, and Desolation. So immense, so +potent, so terrible was that _Heu, heu!_ of chorusing wind and sky, +that even the voice of the bold storm-blast seemed to us, in +comparison, secondary and mild. At length, the wind managed to clear a +way for the rain; our house--I had almost said our craft--began to +leak; the roof, opening its seams here and there, admitted the rain in +torrents. + +Still worse, the fury of the Tempest, by a desperate effort, loosened +one of the hinges of a shutter, which still remained closed, but from +that moment shook, creaked, shrieked, in the most dismal fashion that +you can imagine. To make it fast I had to open the window, and that +moment that I did so, though sheltered by the shutter, I felt myself +in the very centre of the whirlwind, half-deafened by the frightful +force of a sound equal to that of a cannon fired close to one's ear. +Through the cracks of the shutter I perceived what gave me a clear +notion of the tremendous power that was raging landward, skyward, +seaward, horizontally, upward, and downward. The waves, meeting and +battling, smote each other so fiercely that they could not descend +again. Gust after gust from beneath them, carried them landward; +mighty and vast as they were, they were borne landward as though so +many feathers, by the upheaving force of those mighty blasts. + +How would it have been, if, shutters and windows being driven in, our +poor room had _shipped_ one of those vast billows which the storm-wind +thus hurled upon the adjacent heaths? We were, in fact, exposed to the +strange chance of being shipwrecked on the land. Our house, so close +to the shore, might at any moment have its roof or even its upper +story carried right away by wind and wave. The villagers often told us +that that was, in fact, their nightly thought and their nightly +terror, and they advised us to seek a more inland shelter. But we +still comforted ourselves with the thought that the longer this +tempest had lasted, the sooner it must come to an end; and, to the +undoubtedly reasonable advice thus given to us, our reply was, still, +"To-morrow, to-morrow." + +The overland news that came to us, told of nothing but wrecks, still +wrecks. Close by us, on the 30th of October, a vessel from the South +Sea, with a crew of thirty hands, foundered, with a loss of all hands +and her rich cargo--and this at the very entrance of the roadstead. +After having passed through so many storms and calms, after having +safely weathered so many rocks and shoals, she had arrived within +sight, within hail, almost within touch of a little beach of fine +sand, the fine-weather bathing place of delicate and timid women. +Well! That seemingly gentle little sandy beach, upheaved into a huge +and impassable sandbar--was the grave of the good ship, which ran upon +it with frightful force, and was crushed, shivered into small +pieces--converted from a "thing of life," into a mutilated corpse. +What became of the crew? Not a trace of them has ever been found; they +were probably swept, vainly struggling, from the deck, and swallowed +up by the sands. + +This tragical event very naturally led us to suspect that many similar +ones had occurred, elsewhere, and nothing was thought of or talked of +but probable calamities. But the sea seemed by no means at the end of +her work. We on shore had had quite enough of it. Not so our enraged +sea. I saw our pilots, sheltering themselves behind a rocky wall from +south-west, keep an anxious look-out seaward, and shake their heads in +ominous doubt of what was even yet to come. Happily for them, no craft +made her appearance in the offing--or they were there to risk, most +probably to lose, their lives. And I, also, looked anxiously out upon +that sea, on which I looked no less in hate than in anxiety. True, I +was in no real danger, but for that very reason I was all the more +despairingly the victim of _ennui_. That sea had a look at once +hideous and terrible; her vagaries were as absurd as her strength was +irresistible. Nothing there reminded one of the fanciful descriptions +of the poets. By a strange contrast, the more I felt myself depressed, +and as it were, lifeless, the more vigorously and vehemently did she +seem to feel and manifest her life; as though, galvanized by her own +furious motion, she had become animated by some strange, fantastic +soul. In the general rage, each wave seemed animated by its own +special and sentient rage; in the whole uniformity, (paradoxical as it +may seem, it, yet, is quite true) there was, as it were some +diabolical swarming. Was all this attributable to my worn brain and +wearied eyes? Or were the reality and the impression alike true? Those +waves reminded me of some terrible _mob_, some horrid rabblement, not +of men, but of howling dogs, a myriad of howling and eager dogs, +wolves--maddened and furious dogs and wolves. Dogs and wolves, do I +say? Let me rather say, a dread concourse of nameless, and detestable, +and spectral beasts, eyeless and earless, but with hugely yawning +jaws, foaming and eager for blood, blood, still more blood! + +Monsters! what more do ye require? Are ye not surfeited with wrecked +ships and slain men? Do we not from all sides hear of your horrid +triumphs? What more, I ask, do ye demand? And the horrid phantoms +answer--"Thy death, universal Death, the destruction of the Earth, a +return to black Night and ancient Chaos." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE BEACONS. + + +Impetuous is the channel where her strait receives the full rush of +the North sea, and very turbulent is the sea of Brittany, rushing over +basaltic shoals in swift and furious rapids. But the gulf of Gascony, +from Cordouan to Biarritz, is just one long maritime contradiction, +one enigma of mighty strifes. As she goes to the southward, she +suddenly becomes extraordinarily deep, as though her waters sank, on +the instant into some vast and fathomless abyss. Passing over that +sudden and immense depth, the onward wave under the impulse of the +terrible pressure leaps upward to a height and onward with a velocity +unequalled by any other of our seas. The great surge from the +north-west is the motive-power of this huge liquid machinery; from a +little more north it threatens to crush Saint-Jean-de-Luz; farther +west it repels the Gironde, and crowns with her terrible billows the +luckless Cordouan. + +That poor Cordouan, that respectable martyr of the seas and victim of +the tempests, is only too little known. I believe it is the oldest of +all the European beacons. At all events, only one, the celebrated +Genoese lantern, can rival it in antiquity. But there is a vast +difference between them. The Genoese, crowning a fort and solidly +seated upon solid rock, looks smilingly, almost scornfully, down upon +the impotently furious storms. But Cordouan is upon a shoal which the +water never wholly leaves. And, in truth, he was a bold man who +conceived the notion of erecting a beacon here, amidst the waters; +what say I? in the eternal wave-combat between such a river and such a +sea. From one or the other, it, at every instant, receives tremendous +blows. Yes, even the Gironde urged on the one hand by the winds, and +on the other by the rude torrents from the Pyrenees, assails this +stern calm guardian, as though it were responsible for the assailing +and repelling fury of the ocean. + +Yet, Cordouan is the only saving and consoling light that gleams over +this stormy sea. Run before the north wind, and miss Cordouan, and +verily, my storm-tossed brother, you are in very real danger; you, +likely enough, will fail to sight Arcachon. This sea, most stormy +among seas, is also the darkest. At night, storm-driven upon that sea, +there is no guiding mark, if you miss the beneficent light. + +During our whole six months stay upon this coast, our usual +contemplation, I had almost said, our almost sole companion, was the +beacon of Cordouan. We felt that this guardian of the sea, this +constant watchman over the strait became less a mere building than an +actually living and intelligent _person_. Standing erect over the vast +western horizon, it shows itself under a hundred various aspects. Now +it is gilded, glorified by the setting sun; anon, pale and indistinct +amidst the shifting mists, it tells us nothing of good augury. At +evening, when suddenly it flashes its ruddy and glowing light athwart +the heaving waters, it looks like some zealous inspector impressed and +anxious in its conscious and deep responsibility. Whatever happens +from the seaward, our Cordouan is held responsible for it. Throwing +his ruddy beams into the gloom of the tempest, he, the preserver, is +held to be the cause of that which he only, and savingly, exhibits. +Thus, only too often, it is that genius is accused of evoking the +evils which it exposes only that it may reform them. We, also, were +ourselves thus unjust towards Cordouan. Was he late in displaying his +guiding light? How ready we were to exclaim: "Cordouan, Cordouan, pale +phantom, can you show yourself only to conjure up the storm, and the +storm fiend?" + +And yet I believe, quite firmly, that to Cordouan thirty of our +fellows owed their lives in the great storm of October. Their vessel +was a total wreck, but they escaped with their lives. + +It is much that we can see our shipwrecking, to go down in full light, +knowing exactly where we are, what are our perils, and what chances we +have of evading or overcoming them. "Great God! If we must perish, +give us to perish in the broad, bright light of day!" + +When the ship of which I speak, driven by the strong surge from the +open sea, reached this shore in the deep night, there were a thousand +chances to one against her making her way into the Gironde. On her +starboard the bright point of the Grave warned her off from Medoc; on +her larboard the little beacon of Saint-Palais showed her the +dangerous rock of the Grand'Caute on the Saintonge side; and between +those fixed white lights, high over the central shoal flashed the +ruddy Cordouan, showing from moment to moment the only safe channel. + +By a desperate effort she got through, but only, and barely; wind, +wave, and current conspired to drive her on Saint-Palais. The saving +light showed the much harrassed, but still undaunted crew, where only +lay their chance of safety from the driving sea behind and the +terrible sands in front. Fearing, yet daring, they leaped, fell, I +know not how or where, and were saved, bruised, fainting,--but still +living. + +Who can even imagine how many ships and how many men are saved by +these beneficent beacons? Light, suddenly dispelling the dense shadows +of those horrible nights when the bravest lose their courage and their +presence of mind, not only points the path, but clears the head and +strengthens the heart. It is a great moral support to be able to say +in some mortal peril, "Again! Again! Haul away my brothers, be bold! +Though wind and wave are both against us, we are not alone. See, +yonder! Humanity is still watching over us, and guiding us from yonder +lofty tower!" + +The seamen of the old times, ever hugging the shore, and anxiously +marking every headland, were still more in need than we are of the +friendly beacon light. The Etruscans, we are told, first kept the +night-fires burning upon their sacred stones; the beacon was at once +an altar, a temple, a column, and a watch tower. The Celts, too, had +their round towers which were beacons also; the most important of them +were built on precisely those points where the friendly light could +most widely flash over the dark waters; and the Romans lit up watch +fires from height to height and promontory to promontory along their +whole shores of the Mediterranean. + +The great terror of the Northern sea kings, and the perilled and +trembling life of the dark middle age, put out all those guiding and +saving lights. The people cared not to favor the inroad of the sea +rover; the sea was an object of dread, almost of hatred. Every ship +was an enemy, and, if it ran aground, was deemed lawful as well as +unpitied prey. The pillage of a wreck was the gain of the noble; the +_noble_ and the _wrecker_ were one! The Count de Leon, made wealthy by +the fatal shoal upon his County's shore, said of that murderous rock, +that it was "a precious stone, far more precious than any that +glitters in a kingly crown." + +Even in our own time, innocently, the poor fishermen have, again and +again, by those fires which they have kindled upon the beach, seduced +our poor seamen into shipwreck and death. The very beacons themselves +have, not seldom, played the bad part of the false hearted wrecker, +alluring, only to betray; so easy is it to mistake one light for +another. Now and then, that mistake, so readily made, leads to very +horrible consequences. + +It was France, who, at the close of her great wars, took the lead in +making the lighthouse the great saviour of the benighted and well nigh +wrecked seamen. Provided with that great refracting lamp of Fresnel, +(a lantern equal to four thousand common ones, and throwing its ruddy +gleam over a dozen, or so, of leagues), it can cast, that good modern +beacon, its directing and saving light, hither and thither so that +strait and shoal are made visible and safe in the deep midnight as in +the full broad glow of the bright noon. To the sailor, who steers by +the stars, this invention gave him, as it were, a new heaven and added +constellations. Planets, fixed stars, all were created anew for him, +and in those newly invented constellations there was even an +improvement upon the celestial lights, in the variety of color, +intensity and duration, of their glow and of their flashing. To some, +we gave the calm, fixed, pale and steady gleaming which sufficed for +the tranquil night and the comparatively safe sea; to others, the +revolving and flashing, and fierce and ruddy glow that shone to every +point of the compass. These latter, like the phosphoric creatures of +the deep, palpitate and flash fitfully, now gleaming and anon paling, +now leaping into dazzling glow, and anon dying into deepest darkness. +In the darkest and most tempestuous nights, they are ever restless as +Ocean's self, and seem to give him back motion for motion, and gleam +for gleam to the lurid and fitful lightnings. + +Let us remember that in 1826, and even as late as 1830, our seas were +still terrible in their drear darkness. In all Europe there were but +few lighthouses; in Africa, there was but the single one on the Cape, +and, in all vast Asia there were only those of Bombay, Calcutta, and +Madras, while the whole vast extent of South America displayed not +even one. Since the latter date all nations following, imitating, even +rivaling, France, have said, on every bold headland that overlooks +every dangerous shoal and strait have said "Let there be light!" and +every where the friendly light, gleams tranquilly, or fitfully +flashes. + +Just here I should like you to make with me the circumnavigation of +our seas from Dunkirk to Biarritz, and to take a survey of our +lighthouses. But, it would occupy us too long. Calais, with her four +lights of different colors, throws out her friendly warnings and +hospitable imitations even to distant Dover; and the noble gulf of the +Seine, between Heve and Barfleur, lights the American seaman on his +otherwise perilous passage to Havre and thence to the very home, the +very heart of France. + +And the good heart of France goes to her very threshold to welcome the +coming and sea borne guest; lighting up, as, with an admirable skill +and hospitality she does, every bold point of Brittany. At the outpost +of Brest, at Saint Matthew, at Penmark, at the isle of Fen, every +headland has its warning and guiding light, now flashing, now +darkening, from minute to minute, or from second to second, and saying +by sudden flash or momentary gloom, "Seamen! Beware! Luff it is! give +that rock a wide berth! Keep off that shoal! Port! Hard +aport!--Weather,--it is! Midship helm! So! Steady! Safe you are,--at +your moorings!" + +And observe, all these watch towers over the perilous deep, often +built as they are among the breakers, and as it were in the very bosom +of the tempest, solve for art the difficult problem of absolute +solidity or seemingly treacherous and unsafe foundation. Many of them +are quite enormously high. The architecture of the middle ages, about +which so much is as boastfully as untruly said and sung, never +ventured to build so high, save on condition of giving their edifices +clumsy buttresses and of clamping with clumsy and costly clamps of +iron, the peaked summits of their towers. A glance at the much +boasted, though really anything but artistic steeple of Strasbourg, +will convince you of this. Our modern builders resort to no such rude +expedients. The Héaux beacon, recently erected by M. Reynaud on the +dangerous shoal of the Épées de Tréguier, displays all the sublime +simplicity of some gigantic ocean tree. It has no buttresses, and it +needs none; its foundation is sunk boldly and bodily into the living +rock; from its base of sixty feet, it rears its tall column of +twenty-four feet in diameter, and each of its huge granites is, neatly +as firmly, dovetailed into the other, so neatly, so closely, so +firmly, that cement is a sheer superfluity; and so solidly is all +built that from base to summit the tall tower is solid as, nay, we may +almost venture to say, more solid than, the old rock from which +science, and art, and perseverance and what the American so +graphically calls _pluck_ have hewn each separate stone. Your wild +wave knows not where to find a rent in the armor of this tall +ocean-espying giant. She may smite, she may rage, but her blows will +not harm, her rage will be spent in vain; from that rounded and great +mass the giant blow glances harmlessly off; the mightiest thunder +strokes of the ever enraged and ever baffled ocean have only succeeded +in giving to this grand edifice a far slighter inclination than that +of the purposely inclined "leaning tower" of Pisa. + +Behold, then, instead of those sad bastions which, in the olden day, +overlooked and threatened old ocean, like those with which Spain +threatened the Moor, our modern civilization erects peaceful towers of +most benevolent and beneficent hospitality; beautiful and noble +monuments, often sublime as they appeal to art, always touching as +they appeal to sentiment; those towers which, flashing forth their +ruddy or gleaming with their silvery fires, make upon the confines of +our living, swarming, and much imperilled earth, a new firmament, +saving, and guiding, blessing and blessed, as the firmament above us. +When no star shines upon us from that firmament above, the seaman +hails this art-created light as the star of brotherhood; + + "Bids its ruddy lustre hail + And scorns to strike his timorous sail." + +Pleasant it is to seat oneself below one of these noble beacons, those +friendly fires, those true and welcoming homes of the storm tried +mariner. Even the most modern of them is a venerable thing to all who, +for one moment, reflect how many lives the most modern of them has +already saved. With even the most modern, many a touching memory, many +a wild and beautiful, and no less authentic story is connected. Two +generations, merely, are enough to make your beacon already ancient, +linked with old memories, consecrated, honorable, hallowed. Often, oh +often does the mother say to her little ones--"Behold! That friendly +beacon saved your grandfather; but for it you would never have been +born." + +And how often does our brave beacon receive the loving, and tender, +and pure visits of the anxious wife or brother who watches for the +return of the far husband or son! In the darkening evening, and even +far into the dark night, the one or the other gazes anxiously up to +the lofty tower, wishing, begging, imploring, for the first gleaming +of the blessed and blessing light that shall guide the absent one +safely back into port. + +Oh! Very justly did the men of the old day, confound these honored +stones with the altars of the man guiding and man saving gods; to the +heart that weeps, and hopes, and prays and battles amidst the howlings +of the tempest, see ye! they are still one and the same; they are +still the saving guides, the very altars of the saving and the guiding +Deity. For, in very truth, what are man's best works, but the +realization of the Almighty will and the great directing mercy? + + + + +BOOK SECOND. + + THE GENESIS OF THE SEA. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +FECUNDITY. + + +Five minutes after midnight of St. John's--24th to 25th of June, +commences the great Herring Fishery, in the North Seas. Phosphoric +lights gleam and flash upon the waters, and from deck to deck is heard +the hearty hail, "Look out, there! The _Herring lightning_!" And a +real, and a vast lightning that is, as from the depths that vast mass +of life springs upward in eager quest of heat, light, and dalliance. +The soft, pale, silvery light of the Moon is well pleasing to that +timorous host; a beacon to guide them to their great banquet of Love. +Upward they spring, one and all; not one idler or straggler remains +behind. Gregariousness is the fixed rule, the indefeasible law of that +race; you never see them but in shoals. In shoals they lie buried in +the vast dark depths, and in shoals they come to the surface to take +their summer part in the universal joy, to see the light, to +revel--and to die. Packed, squeezed, crushed, layer on layer, it +seems that they never can be close enough, they swim in such compact +masses that the Dutch fishermen compare them to their own +Dykes--afloat! Between Scotland, Holland and Norway, one might fancy +that an immense island had suddenly risen, and that a whole continent +was about to arise. One division detaches itself eastward, and chokes +up the Baltic sound. In some of the narrower straits you actually +cannot row, so dense and solid is the mass of fish. Millions, tens of +millions, tens of thousands of millions;--who can even guess at the +number of those hosts upon hosts? It is on record that on one +occasion, near Havre, one fisherman, on one morning, found in his nets +no fewer than eight hundred thousand; and in Scotland, the mighty mass +of eleven thousand barrels was taken in a single night! + +They come as a blinded and doomed prey; no amount of destruction can +discourage them. Constantly preyed upon alike by fish and by men, they +still come on in myriad shoals. And no marvel either; for they love +and multiply, even as they move. Kill them as fast as we may, they +just as fast reproduce; their vast, deep columns, even as they float +along, give themselves wholly up to the great work of reproduction. +The wave of the sea and the electric wave impel that whole vast mass +at every instant. No weariness, no satiety, no weakness, not even a +pause, take one where you will and it either has just propagated, is +propagating, or is about to propagate. In that vast polygamous host, +pleasure is an adventure and love a navigation. Over every league of +its passage it pours out its torrents of fecundity. + +At some two or three fathoms deep the water is completely discolored +by the incredible abundance of the Herring-spawn; and at sunrise, far +as the eye can reach, you may see the water whitened with the +marvellous abundance of the thick, fat, viscuous billows in which life +is fermenting into new life. Over hundreds of square leagues it seems +as though a volcano of teeming and fecund milk had burst forth and +overwhelmed the sea. + +Full of life as it is at the surface, the Sea would be actually choked +up with it but for the fierce and eager union of all sorts of +destructions. Let us remember that each Herring has forty, fifty, or +even seventy thousand eggs. But for the thinning process, each of them +giving the average increase of fifty thousand, and as each of these in +its turn giving the same average increase, a very few generations +would suffice to solidify the Ocean into a stagnant and putrid mass, +and make our whole globe a desert. Here we see the imperative +necessity to Life, of life's twin sister, Death; in their immense +strife there is harmony; destruction is the handmaiden of +preservation. + +In the universal war carried on against the doomed race, it is the +fierce giants of the deep that prevent the mass from dispersing, and +drive it in dense shoals to our shores. The whale, and the other +cetaceæ, plunge into the living mass, swallow down whole tons, and +drive shoreward the still vast, the seemingly undiminished, host. And +at the shore commences quite another and more vast destruction. In the +first place, the smallest of fish devour the spawn of the Herring, +swallowing, like any human spendthrift, the great future for the small +present. And for the present, for the full-grown Herring, nature has +provided a very efficiently gluttonous foe, dull-eyed, huge appetited, +eager, insatiable,--the whole tribe of fish-devouring fish, Cod, +Whiting, &c. The Whiting gloats, devours, crams itself so with Herring +that it becomes one luscious mass of fat. The Cod similarly stuffs +itself with Whitings, and becomes fat, fecund, overflowing with +fecundity--with a really threatening superabundance of fecundity. Just +consider! What we have seen of the fecundity of the Herring is a mere +nothing when compared to the fecundity of the Cod, which not seldom +has nine millions of eggs! A cod weighing fifty pounds has fourteen +pounds of eggs; and its breeding season is nine months of every year. +This is the creature that, unchecked, would soon solidify the Ocean +and destroy the world. And accordingly we cry "Help! To arms! Launch +ships and away, to check this too vigorous fecundity." England alone +sends some twenty or thirty thousand seamen to the Cod Fisheries. And +how many are sent from America, from France, from Holland--from +everywhere? The Cod alone has caused the foundation of whole towns--of +whole colonies! The catching and curing of the Cod form an art, and +that art has its own idiom--the _patois_ of the Cod fishery. + +But what could man do against the enormous fecundity of the cod? +Nature knows well that our petty efforts of fleets and fisheries would +be insufficient and that the Cod would conquer us; and nature evokes +another and a more efficient destroyer of the superfluous life that +would produce universal death. Down from its spawning bed in the +river, thin, famishing, eager, fierce with hunger, comes the Sturgeon, +that great devourer. Real rapture it is to the famishing glutton to +find, on his return to the sea, ready fattened for him, the succulent +and unctuous Cod, the concentrated substance of whole shoals of +Herrings! This great devourer of the cod, though less fecund than its +prey, _is_ fecund, producing fifteen hundred thousand eggs. The danger +reappears. The Herring threatened with its terrible fecundity, the Cod +threatened, the sturgeon threatens still. Nature, therefore, produced +a creature superb in destroying, almost powerless to reproduce, a +monster at once terrible and serviceable that could cut through this +otherwise invincible and ruinous fecundity, an omnivorous monster, +huge of jaw and constant in appetite, ready for all prey, living or +dead, the great, the perfectionated, the matchless devourer--the +Shark. + +But these furious devourers are anticipatively kept down; mighty in +destroying, they are very slow in reproducing. The Sturgeon, as we +have seen is less prolific than the Cod, and the Shark is actually +sterile, if compared to any other fish. Not like them does it +overspread and discolor the sea. Viviparous, it sends forth its rare +youngling, fierce, fully armed, savage and terrible. + +In her dark and teeming depths, the Sea can smile in scorn at the +destroyers to which she gives birth, well knowing, as the great proud +fertile Sea does, that no might of destruction can surpass her might +of reproduction. Her chief wealth, her most vast and countless +produce, defies all the fury of the devourers, is inaccessible to +their attacks. I speak of the infinite world of living atoms, of the +microscopic atomies that live and love, enjoy, struggle, suffer and +die from the surface to the utmost depths of the sea. It has been +affirmed that, in the absence of solar light, life, also, must be +absent; yet the darkest depths of the sea are studded with sea stars, +living, moving, microscopic infusoriæ and molluscs. The dark crab, the +phosphorescent seaworm, and a thousand strange and nameless creatures +swarm in those uttermost depths and rise only now and then, describing +long lines of variegated light upon the heaving surface. In its +semi-transparent density, the sea has its own lucidity, its own +glowing gleam, like that which fish, living or dead, reflect. The Sea! +glorious Sea, hath her own lights, her own Sun, Moon, and Stars. + +Gaze inquisitively and intelligently on a mere salt well and you at +once perceive how prolific the ocean depths must be; that seeming +deposit of dead and inert matter hath its real life; it is a mass of +infusoriæ, microscopic, but organized and sentient. All voyagers on +the wide Ocean concur in telling us that in their far wanderings they +still and ever traverse living waters. Freynel saw millions of square +yards covered by a crimson glow--that glow, consisting of living +animalculæ so minute that a myriad is packed into every square inch. +In the bay of Bengal, in 1854, Captain Kingman sailed for thirty miles +through one vast white blotch which made the sea look like a great +snow field. Not a cloud above, but one unbroken leaden grey, in +strange contrast with the brilliant whiteness beneath. Look closely +and you see that that seeming snow is gelatinous; bring your +microscope into play and you see that that seeming jelly is a mass of +living, moving, phosphoric animalculæ, flashing forth strange and +marvellous lights. + +Peron, too, tells us that for thirty leagues his good ship ploughed +her way through what seemed a sort of greyish dust; examined with the +microscope, this seeming dust was seen to be the eggs of some unknown +species, covering and concealing the waters over all that immense +space. + +Even along the desolate shores of Greenland, where we vainly fancy +that prolific nature must needs expire, the sea is enormously +populous. Through waves two hundred miles by fifteen you sail through +deep brown waters, colored by microscopic medusæ, of which, de +Schleiden tells us, more than a hundred and ten thousand live and +love, battle, and die in every cubic foot. These productive and +nourishing waters are supersaturated with all sorts of fatty atoms +adapted to the delicate nature of the fish which lazily drink in the +nourishment provided for them by the fertile and generous common +mother. Do they know what they thus swallow? Scarcely. Its minute but +abounding nurture, its nourishing mother's-milk, comes to it without +its care, and is received without its gratitude. Our great fatality, +our sad calamity, fierce and terrible hunger, is known only on the +land. Exertion and want of food are unknown in the great world of +waters. There, life must glide away like a glad dream. What can the +creature there do with his strength? All use of it is superfluous, +impossible;--all save only one; all strength, all energy, are reserved +for the great work of love. + +The one great law, the one great work of the seas, is to increase and +multiply. Love fills up the whole of its fecund depths, and is +wealthiest in reproduction among those which are so small that to our +unassisted eye they are invisible, unknown as though they were +non-existent. We have spoken of mere atomies; but are there, in +reality, any such? When we imagine that we have got the lowest, the +utterly indivisible, we have but to examine with more earnest and +penetrating gaze and we see that this seemingly frail atomy still +loves, still reproduces itself in miniature. At the very lowest stages +of life you find all the forms of life and reproduction. + +Such is the Sea, such the great _Female of the Globe_, whose ceaseless +yearning, whose permanent conception, whose production and +reproduction, never end. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE MILKY SEA. + + +The water of the Sea, even the purest, examined when you are far away +from land, and from all possible admixture, is somewhat viscuous; take +some between your fingers, and you find it somewhat ropy and +tenacious. Chemical analysis has not yet explained this peculiarity; +there is in that an organic substance which Chemistry touches only to +destroy, taking from it all that it has of special, and violently +reducing it back to general elements. + +The marine plants and animals are covered with this substance, whose +mucousness gives them the appearance of a coating of jelly, now fixed, +anon trembling, and always semi-transparent. And nothing more than +this contributes to the fanciful illusions presented to us by the +world of waters. Its reflections are irregular, often strangely +variegated, as, for instance, on the scales of fish and on the +molluscæ, which seem to owe to it the exquisite beauty of their pearly +shells. + +It is that which most attracts and enchains the interest of the child +when he first sees a fish. I was very young when I first saw one, but +I still remember how vividly I felt the impression. That creature with +variously colored lights flashing from its silvery scales, threw me +into an astonishment, a fascination, a rapture, which no words can +describe. I endeavored to catch it, but found that it could no more be +held than the water which glided through my small weak hand. That fish +seemed to me to be identical with the element in which it swam, and +gave me a confused idea of animated, organized and surpassingly +beautiful water. + +A long time after, in my maturity, I was scarcely less impressed when +on a sea beach I saw, I know not what of shining and transparent +substance, through which I could clearly see the sand and pebbles. +Colorless as crystal, slightly, very slightly solid, tremulous when +ever so slightly touched, it seemed to me as to the ancients and to +Réaumur, that which Réaumur so graphically named it--_gelatinised +water_. + +Still more forcibly do we feel this impression when we discover in the +early stage of their formation the yellowish white threads in which +the sea makes her first outlines of the fuci and algæ which are to +harden and darken to the strength and color of hides and leather. But +when quite young, in their viscuous state, and in their elasticity, +they have the consistence of a solidified wave, all the stronger +because it is soft. What we now know of the generation and the complex +organization of the inferior creatures, animal or vegetable, +contradicts the explanation of Réaumur and the ancients. But all this +does not forbid us to return to the question which was first put by +Borg. de Saint Vincent; viz: What is the _mucus_ of the Sea? That +viscuousness which water in general presents? Is it not the universal +element of life? + +Much engaged with these and the like reflections, I called upon an +illustrious chemist, a man at once positive and sound, an innovator no +less prudent than bold, and I abruptly asked him this plain +question--"What, in your opinion, is that whitish, viscuous matter +which we find in sea water?" "Nothing else than life," was his reply, +then retracting, or rather explaining his somewhat too simple and too +absolute dictum, he added, "I should rather say a half organized and +wholly organizable matter. In certain waters it is a dense mass of +infusoriæ, in others a matter which is not yet, but which is to become +infusoriæ. In fact, we have yet to begin, at all seriously, the study +of this matter." + +This was spoken on the 17th of May, 1860. + +On leaving our great Chemist, I went to a Physiologist, whose opinion +has no less weight with me, and to him I put the same question. His +reply was very long and very beautiful. In substance it ran thus: "We +know in reality no more about the composition of water than we know +about that of blood. What we best know and can most safely affirm +about the _mucus_ of sea water, is that it is at once an Alpha and an +Omega, a beginning and an end. Is it the result of the numberless +deaths which furnish forth materials for new lives? No doubt, that is +the general law; but in the case of the sea, that world of rapid +absorption, the majority of the creatures there are absorbed while in +full life; they do not slowly linger on towards death, as we on land +do. The sea is a very pure element; war and death purvey to it. But +life, without arriving at its final dissolution, is incessantly +approaching it, exuding and exhaling all that is superfluous. With us, +the animals of the earth, the epidermis, through its millions of +pores, wastes the body at every instant; we suffer, as it were, a +partial death at every breath we draw. Now this partial death, this +vast exudation, in the case of the marine world, fills that vast world +of waters with a gelatinous wealth of which the young world has the +instant benefit. It finds in suspension the oily superabundance of +this common exudation, the still living atoms and liquids which have +not had time to die. All this does not fall back into the inorganic, +but enters quickly into new organisms. Of all the theories on the +subject, this seems the most reasonable; rejecting this theory, we +plunge into a sea of extreme difficulties." + +These ideas of the most enlightened and earnest thinkers of the +present day, are not irreconcilable with those which, nearly thirty +years ago were promulgated by Geoffrey Saint Hilaire, upon that +general _mucus_ in which nature seems to find all life. He calls it +"the _animalisible_ substance, the raw material of organic bodies. Not +a creature, whether animal or vegetable, but both absorbs and produces +it from the earliest to the latest breath; indeed, the weaker the +creature, the more abundant that is." + +This remark suggests a broad and bright light upon the life of the +seas. Their tenants seem, for the most part, foetuses in the +gelatinous stage, which absorb and produce the mucous substance, +permeate and saturate with it all the waters, and give to them the +fecund and nourishing powers of a vast womb, in whose depths an +infinite succession of generations, perpetually float, as in warm +milk. + +Let us make ourselves present in this divine work. Let us take a drop +from the sea; in it we shall be able to espy the very process of the +primitive creation. Nature's God is ever consistent; he does not work +in one fashion to-day, and in another to-morrow. This drop of water, I +doubt not, will tell us in its transformations, the tale of the +Universe. Let us be patient, and observe. Who can foresee or guess +the history of this drop of water? Which will it first produce, the +vegetable-animal, or the animal-vegetable? Will this drop be the +infusoriæ, the primitive _monad_, which, vibrating, shall shortly +become _vibrion_, and ascending step by step, from rank to rank, +polypus, coral, or pearl, may perchance in ten thousand years reach +the dignity of insect? Will it produce the vegetable thread, so slight +and silken that one would scarcely discern it, and yet already is no +less than the first born hair, amorous and sensitive, which is so well +known as _Venus's hair_? This is no fable--it is true natural history. +This hair, of double nature, at once animal and vegetable, is, in +fact, the commencement of life. + +Look quite down into the depths of a vessel of water; at first you +discover nothing; patience for a few moments and you perceive drops, +atomies, that are moving. Bring a good glass into the service, and you +see a whole cloud of these atomies. Are they gelatinous or fleecy? +Under the microscope this seeming fleece becomes a group of filaments, +of finest and silkiest threads; a thousand times finer, it is +believed, than the finest hair that adorns the head of woman. You are +now looking upon the first timid attempt of life that is struggling to +achieve organization. These confervæ, these hair-weeds, are to be +found wherever there is stagnant water, whether fresh or salt. They +are the commencement of that double series of the primary vegetation +of the sea which became terrestrial when the earth emerged from the +watery depths. Once above and beyond the waters, they become the vast, +the numberless Fungus-family; in the water, they are the hair-weeds, +the many-formed and many-named Algæ. + +This is the primitive, the indispensable element of organized +vitality, and we find it even where we should, at the first glance +deem it to be impossible. Even in the dark depths of the ferruginous +waters, supersaturated with iron; even in the all but boiling hot +springs, you find this mucus, this abounding mass of little creatures, +moving, writhing, agitated ever, which to your first glance, seem only +so many lifeless specks. You need not greatly care into what class our +finite and dim science consigns them. If Candolle honors them with the +title of animals, if Dujardin, on the other hand, degrades them into +the low rank of the lowest vegetation--let us not stay to heed these +mere names. Such as they are, all that they ask is that they may live +and that their humble existence may open up the long series of beings +which, but for them, would never be. These atomies, whether we call +them living or dead, or passing from life to death, or vigorously +struggling from death into organic life, are self-supporting, +independently struggling, and ever taking and giving from and to the +maternal waters, the life creating and the life supporting gelatine. + +It really is without any approach, even, to probability, that they +show us, as specimens of the first creation, the primitive +organization, the fossil imprints, more or less complex, whether of +animal or vegetable--of the Trilobites, for instance, already +furnished with the superior organs--eyes, &c.,--or gigantic +vegetation, widely branched and richly foliaged. It is beyond all +computation more probable that these were preceded and heralded, and +prepared, by species far more simple, but of such yielding and +destructible matter that it could make no impress, leave no mark +behind. How can we expect that those gelatinous, those almost liquid +creatures should _not_ "die and make no sign" when we see that the +hard shells are ground into very dust? In the South Seas we see fish +with teeth so sharp, at once, and of such iron strength that they +browse on the tough coral, even as the timid sheep browses on the +tender grass-blades. Oh! Depend upon it, generation after generation +of the soft gelatinous germs of life have breathed before nature put +forth its robust Trilobite and its imperishable ferns. + +Let us be just to these conservæ; let us restore to them their pretty +obvious right to eldership in this glad and various world of ours. Be +they animal or be they vegetable, or do they vibrate and struggle +between both--let us at least do them justice, let us speak about them +all that is evidently true. + +Upon them, and at their expense, arose the immense, the really +marvellous marine Flora. + +At that starting point I will not hesitate to express my tender +sympathy. For three very sound and sufficient reasons I love and I +bless that vast vegetation; small or large, that vegetation has three +lovely qualities:-- + +Firstly, how innocent are all its members. Not one of them all is +poisonous. Vainly in the whole marine vegetation shall you search for +one poisonous plant. Seek in every sea, and in every latitude, you +will find the vegetation wholesome, genial, a blessing and a mercy. + +Those innocent plants ask for nothing more than to nourish or to heal +animality. Many of them, the Laminaires, for instance, contain a +luscious sugar; and others, as, for instance, the Corsican or Irish +Moss, have a health-restoring bitter; and all, without exception, +contain a concentrated and most nourishing mucilage, not a few of them +saviours to the weak, worn, perishing lungs of presumptuous and +ungrateful man. Where we now exhibit iodide, the English formerly used +nothing but a confection of that same Corsican, or Irish, Moss. + +The third characteristic of that vegetation is its marvellous +amorousness. We cannot doubt that if we pay the slightest attention to +its strange hymeneial metamorphoses, here is the striving to be, +beyond being, to be potent beyond power. We see it in the fire flies +and the like small things, and we see it no less, if we will only look +for it, in the sea weeds which, at the consecrated moment, seem to +quit their merely vegetable life and leap into animality. + +Where do these wonders commence? Where are these first sketches of +animality made? Where are we to look for the primitive scene of +organization? + +Formerly these things were hotly disputed; in our own day there seems +to be a certain agreement in the learned world of Europe. I can find +the reply to these questions in many recognized and authorized +volumes, but I prefer to borrow it from an Essay recently crowned by +the Academy of Sciences, and, consequently, shielded by its high, +unquestionable authority. + +Living creatures are found in the hot waters of eighty, even up to +ninety, degrees. It is when the cooled globe gets down to that +temperature that life becomes possible. The water has then absorbed, +at least in part, that terrible element of death--carbonic acid gas. +It becomes possible to breathe. + +All the seas were at first like those parts of the great Pacific +Ocean, which are comparatively shallow, and are studded with small, +low islets. These islets are extinct craters of by-gone volcanoes; the +seaman knows them only by the summits which the slow but steadfast +toil of the coral insect has upheaved from the depths. But the depths +between these volcanoes are probably themselves no less volcanic, and +must have been, for the first essays of primitive creation, so many +receptacles of life. + +Popular tradition has, for ages past, attributed to volcanoes the +guardianship of buried treasures, which from time to time give out to +our upper world the gold that lies buried in the depths.--Poetic +fiction, which yet has its firm foundation in fact. The volcanic +regions have within themselves the treasure of our globe, potent +virtues of fecundity. It is they that most largely dower the otherwise +sterile earth; from the dust of their lavas, from their still warm +ashes, life springs, expands, glows, and creates new life. We +recognize the wealth of Vesuvius, and of Etna in the long offshoots +that they send far into the Sea, and we know what a lovely paradise is +formed under the Himalayas, by the volcanic circle of the vale of +Cachemire. And the same thing is repeated in the lovely isles of the +far South Sea. + +Even under the least favorable circumstances, the vicinity of +volcanoes, and the warm currents which are their concomitants, create +and preserve animal life, even in the most desolate and dreary places. +Amidst all the freezing horrors of the Antarctic pole, not far from +the volcanic Erebus, Captain James Ross found living coral insects at +the depth of a thousand fathoms below the surface of the frozen sea. + +In the early ages of our world, innumerable volcanoes exerted a +submarine action far more powerful than they exhibit now. Their clefts +and their intermediate valleys allowed the marine mucus to accumulate +in places, and to be electrified into life by the warm currents. No +doubt the _mucus_ affected those parts, fixed itself there and worked +and fermented to the utmost of its young power. Its leaven was the +attraction of the substance for itself. The creative elements, +originally dissolved in the sea formed combinations, leagues, I had +well nigh written marriages. First appeared, merely elementary +lives--death following almost inseparably, indistinguishably, upon +young life; and other lives following close upon, and nourished by, +those wrecks and spoils, had firmer hold on life, became preparatory +beings, slow but sure creators, which, thenceforth, began beneath the +waters that eternal labor which, even in our own day and beneath our +own scrutiny, they still continue. + +The sea nourishing them all, gives to each that which best suits it. +Each draws from that great nursing-mother, in its own fashion, and for +its own especial behoof, that which it most needs, must have, to make +it what we see of naked, or of shelled, of seeming vegetable, or of +fierce, vigorous, and pugnacious life. And whether in life or in +death, whether building actively or passively decomposing, they clothe +the sad nudity of the virgin rocks, those daughters of the volcanic +fires from which flaming and sterile, they were hurled from the +planetary nucleus. + +Quartz, basalt, porphyry, and semi-vitrified flints, each and all +receive from these minute laborers a new, a more graceful, and a more +fecund garb; from the fecund maternal milk (for such we must call the +_mucus_ of the Sea) they absorb and restore, and thus build up, and +secure, and fructify, and beautify, this, our habitable earth. It is +from these more favoring localities that have arisen our primal +species. + +These works must have been commenced among the volcanic isles and +islets, in the depths of their Archipelagoes, in those sinuous +windings, those peaceful labyrinths where the tides enter timidly and +gently, warm and sheltered cradles for the newly-born. + +But the bolder strength of the fully-expanded flower, is to be sought +for in, for instance, the vast depths of the Indian Gulfs. There, the +Sea is veritably a great artist. There she gives to the earth its most +adorable forms, lively, loving, and lovable. With her assiduous +caresses she rounds or slopes the shore, and gives it those maternal +outlines, and I had almost said the visible tenderness of that +feminine bosom on which the pleased child finds so softly safe a +shelter, such warmth, such saving warmth, and rest. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE ATOM. + + +From the bottom of his nets a fisherman one day gave me three almost +dying creatures, a sea hedge-hog, a sea star, and another star, a +pretty ophiure, which still moved and soon lost its delicate arms. I +gave them some sea water, but forgot them for two days, and when I +again saw them, all were dead. On the surface of the water a thick +gelatinous film had formed. I took an atom of this on the point of a +needle; that atom, when placed under the microscope, showed me the +following scene. A whirling crowd of short, thick, strongly built +animals--_Kolpodes_--rushed to and fro as though intoxicated with +their sense of life, delighted, I may say, that they were born and +keeping their birthday with a perfectly bacchanalian joy, while +microscopic eels--_Vibrions_--swam less than vibrated to spring +forward. + +Wearied with the contemplation of such movement, the eye, however, +soon remarked, that all was not in motion, there were some vibrions +yet stiff and still, and there were some intertwined in heaps which +had not yet detached themselves and which looked as though expecting +the moment of their deliverance. + +In that living fermentation of still motionless creatures, the +disorderly Kolpodes rushed and raged, hither and thither, regaling and +fattening themselves at will. + +And this grand spectacle was displayed within the compass of an atom +of film taken on the point of a needle! How many such scenes would be +enacted in the whole of the gelatinous film which had so promptly +formed on the surface of the water containing three dead creatures! +The time had been wonderfully put to profit. In two days the dead had +made a world; for three animals that I had lost I had gained millions, +abounding in youth, absorbed in a real fury of new life! + +That infinite world of life which every where surrounds us was almost +unknown until lately. Swammerdam and others, who formerly recognized +it, were stopped at their first step; and it was as lately as the year +1830, that the magician Uhrenberg looked, revealed, and classified it. +He studied the figure of these invisibles, their organization, their +manners; he saw them absorb, digest, chase, and fiercely battle. Their +generation remained a mystery to him. What is the nature of their +amours? _Have_ they any amours? For creatures so elementary, would +nature go to the expense of a complicated generation? Or do they +spring up spontaneously, and, in vulgar phrase, "like mushrooms?" + +A great question! at which more than one naturalist smiles and shakes +his head. One is so certain of having solved the great mystery of the +world and secured, laid down, once and forever, the true laws of life! +It is for Nature to obey! When, a hundred years ago, Réaumur was told +that the female silk worm could produce alone and without the male, he +denied it in the brief phrase--"Out of nothing, nothing comes." But +the fact, often denied but always proved, is now thoroughly +established and admitted, not only as to the silk worm, but as to the +bee, certain butterflies, and still other creatures. + +In all times, in every nation, both the learned and unlearned have +said, "Out of death cometh life." It was especially supposed that the +imperceptible animalculæ immediately sprang up from the wrecks of +death. Even Harvey, who first laid down the law of generation, did not +venture to contradict that ancient belief, for though he said every +body comes from the egg, he immediately added--_or from the dissolved +body of a preceding life_. + +It is precisely the theory which has been so brilliantly revived by +the experiments of M. Ponchet. He has established the fact that from +the remains of the infusoriæ and other creatures, there proceeds a +fecund jelly, the "prolific membrane" from which spring, not new +beings, indeed, but the germs, the eggs from which new creatures will +spring. + +We live in an age of miracles. This is not to astonish us. Any one +would formerly have been laughed at who had ventured to say that some +animals, disobedient to the general laws of nature, take the liberty +to breathe through their paws. The noble labors of Milne Edwards have +brought this to light. And Cuvier and Blainville had observed, it is +said, that other creatures, destitute of the regular organs of +circulation, supply their place by the intestines, but those great +naturalists deemed the fact so enormous and so incredible, that they +did not venture to publish it. It is now perfectly established by +Milne Edwards, M. de Quatrefages, &c. + +Whatever may be thought of their birth, our atoms, when once born, +present a world infinitely and admirably varied. All forms of life are +there honorably represented. If they know themselves, they must +consider that they compose among themselves a harmony so complete as +to leave but little to desire. + +They are not dispersed species, created apart; they clearly form a +kingdom in which the various species have organized a great division +of the vital labor. They have collective beings like our polypus or +coral insect, engaged in the servitude of a common life; and they have +their minute molluscs which already display their minute and delicate +shells; they have their swiftly swimming fish and whirling insects, +proud crustaceæ, miniatures of the future crabs, armed, like them, to +the teeth; warrior, atoms that chase and devour inoffensive atoms. + +And all this in an enormous and marvellous abundance, which shows the +comparative poverty of our visible world. Without speaking of those +Rhizopodes which have made their part of the Apennines and the +Cordilleras,--the Foramineferes, alone, that numerous tribe of shelled +atoms, amount, according to Charles d'Orbigny, to two thousand +species. They are contemporary with every age of the earth; they +present themselves at all the various depths of our thirty crises of +the globe; sometimes varying a little in form, but always existing as +species; identical witnesses of the life of the earth. In the present +day the cold current from the south pole which the point of America +cuts in two, sends forty species towards La Plata and forty towards +Chili. But the great scene of their creation and organization appears +to be the warm stream of the sea which flows from the Antilles. The +northern currents kill them. The great paternal torrent drifts +myriads of their dead to Newfoundland in our ocean, whose bottom is +paved with them. + +When the illustrious godfather of the atoms, Ehrenberg, baptised them +and introduced them to the scientific world, he was accused of being +too favorable to them, and of exaggerating the character of those +little creatures. He declared them to be a complicated and elevated +organization. So liberally did he endow them, that he gave them a +hundred and twenty stomachs. The visible world became jealous of these +invisibles, and, by a violent reaction, Dujardin reduced them to the +lowest degree of simplicity. The asserted organs he treated as mere +appearances; but, as he could not deny their obvious and great powers +of absorption, he granted them the gift of being able to improvise +stomachs proportioned to what they had to swallow. M. Pouchet does not +coincide with this opinion, but rather inclines to that of Ehrenberg. + +What is incontestable and admirable in these atoms is the vigor of +movement. + +Many have all the appearance of a precocious individuality. They do +not long remain subject to the communistic life led by their immediate +superiors, the true Polypes. Very many of these invisibles are +individuals at the first leap; that is to say, that, at the first +moment of their existence, they can come and go alone and at their +own will; true citizens of the world whose movements depend only upon +themselves. + +Whatever can be seen or imagined of various modes of locomotion in the +visible world, is equalled, even surpassed, among these invisibles. +The impetuous whirl of a potent star, of a sun which attracts around +him, as his planets, the weaker one which he meets, the more irregular +course of the eccentric comet, the graceful undulation of the slender +one in the water or upon the land, the rocking barque that veers right +round in an instant, the rush of the swift shark and the slow crawl of +the wretched sloth--all and every movement, clumsy or graceful, slow +or swift, is to be found in the various species of atoms. And with +what a marvellous simplicity of machinery! Here you see one, a mere +thread, advancing, twisting, a veritable elastic cork-screw; there you +see one that for oar and rudder has only an undulating tail or a pair +of little vibrating eye-lashes. The beautiful little polypus-worms, +like flowers in a vase, anchor together upon an isle--a little plant, +or a miniature crab, and then separate and cast off by detaching their +delicate peduncle. + +What is even more surprising than the organs of motion, is what we may +term the expression, the attitudes, the original signs of character +and temper. You may recognize here the apathetic, there the vivacious +and fantastic, some all alert for war, and others, as it would seem, +fretful and agitated without any apparent cause. Again, you will +occasionally see a whole crowd of remarkably quiet and peaceable atoms +suddenly dispersed and knocked over by some scapegrace atom, conscious +of superior strength, and spoiling for a fight. + +A prodigious comedy is that of our atoms! They seem to be satirically +rehearsing the various farces which are played in our own noble and +serious world, of atoms of larger growth! + +At the head of the infusoriæ, we must make respectful mention of the +majestic giants, the highest type of motion and of strength, slow, but +terrible and great. + +Take some moss from a roof, steep it for a few hours in water, then +place it under the microscopic inspection, and you behold a vast, a +mighty animal, the elephant or the whale of the invisibles, moving +with a youthful grace which those large animals do not always display. +Respect this king of all the atoms, this rotifer, so called because on +either side of his head he has a wheel; these wheels are his organs of +locomotion, like the paddle-wheels of a steamship, or perhaps they +also serve him as his arms of chase to catch his small game, the +inferior and peaceable atoms! All fly, all yield to the rotifer, save +one; one atom only fears nothing, yields nothing, but trusts to his +superior weapons. He is a monster, but he is provided with superior +senses. He has two great gleaming, purplish eyes. He is slow, but he +can see, and he is admirably armed. To his strong paws he adds strong, +sharp talons, which serve him to hold on with, and, at need, to serve +him in the fight. + +Potent initial essays of Nature, that with such small expenditure of +matter, can create in such majestic fashion! Sublime first note of the +sublime overture. These,--of what consequence is mere size?--have a +colossal power of absorption and of movement, far beyond that which +will be given to the enormous animals that are classed so much higher +in the animal scale. + +The oyster fixed upon its rock, the crawling slug, are to the rotifers +creatures as disproportioned as man to the Alps or Cordilleras--so +disproportioned that one cannot compare them by glance, hardly by +reflection and calculation. Yet among those animal mountains, where +will you find the vivacity, the ardor of vitality, displayed by the +rotifer? What a fall we have as we ascend! Our atoms are too +vivacious, dazzlingly agile, and these gigantic beasts are smitten +with paralysis. What if the rotifer could conceive, for instance, the +superb, the colossal starred sponge, which one may see in the Museum +at Paris? It is to the rotifer what this globe, with its twenty-seven +thousand miles of circumference is to man. Well! If the rotifer could +compare himself to the huge sponge, rely upon it that the rotifer +would move his wheels in utmost excitement, and exclaim--"I am great." + +Ah! Rotifer, rotifer! we should despise no one, and nothing. + +I am well convinced of your advantages and your superiority. But who +knows if the captive and slumbering life which you, for instance, +despise in the oyster or the snail, or the slug, be not in truth a +progress? Your wild vertiginous movement, and vivacity, by no means +secure a passage towards higher destinies; for that passage, nature +prefers a motion of less enchantment. She enters the dark sepulchre of +that melancholy communism in which element reckons but for little; she +teaches how to dominate individual anxieties and ambitions, and to +concentrate substances for the benefit of superior lives. + +She sleeps there, for a time, like the _Sleeping Beauty in the Wood_. +But sleep, captivity, enchantment, be it what it may, it is not Death. +In the sponge, seemingly so dead, what life there is! It moves not, +breathes not, has no organs of circulation, or of sense,--and yet it +lives. How know we that, do you ask? Twice in every year the sponge +reproduces. She lives after her fashion, and even more richly than +many others. At the proper day, small spheres leave the mother sponge, +armed with minute fins, which enable them for a short time to float +about in full liberty, but soon coming to anchor, they remain there, +growing, reproducing, till the sponge-hunter carries them to the +habitations of man, to the service of the greater enslaver, man, the +civilized. + +Thus, in the apparent absence of senses, and of all organization, in +that mysterious enigma, at the doubtful threshold of life, generation +opens up to us the visible world by which we are to ascend. As yet +there is nothing, and in the bosom of that nothingness maternity +already appears. As with the fabled gods of antique and mysterious +Egypt, as with that old Isis and Osiris, who begat before their birth, +here, also, Love exists before Being. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +BLOOD-FLOWER. + + +At the heart of the globe, in the warm waters of the Line, and upon +their volcanic bottoms, the sea so superabounds in life that it seems +impossible for it to balance its multitudinous creations. Overpassing +purely vegetable life, its earliest products are organized, sensitive, +living. + +But these animals adorn themselves with a singular splendor of botanic +beauty, the splendid liveries of an eccentric and most luxuriant +Flora. Far as the eye can reach, you see what, judging from the forms +and colors, you take for flowers, and shrubs, and plants. But those +plants have their movements, those shrubs are irritable, those flowers +shrink and shudder with an incipient sensitiveness which promises, +perception and _will_. + +Charming oscillation, fascinating motion, most graceful equivoque! On +the confines of the two kingdoms of animal and vegetable life, Mind, +under those faëry oscillations gives token of its first awakening, its +dawn, its morning twilight, to be followed by a glorious and glowing +noon. Those brilliant colors, those pearly and enamelled flashings, +tell at once of the past night and the thought of the dawning day. + +Thought! may we venture to call it so? No, it is still a Dream, which +by degrees will clear up into Thought. + +Already, in the north of Africa, over the other side of the Cape, the +vegetable kingdom, which reigns alone in the temperate zone, sees +itself rivalled, surpassed. The great enchantment progresses, +increases, as we near the Equator. On the land,--tree, shrub, flower, +weed, are proud and gorgeous, flaming in every bright color, delicate +in every soft shade, and beneath the waters' slime and the ruddy +corals. Beside parterres, that display rainbow beauties of every color +and every tint, commence the stone plants; the madrepores, whose +branches (should we not rather say their hands and fingers?) flourish +in a rose-tinted snow; like peach or apple blossoms. Seven hundred +leagues on either side of the Equator, you sail through this faëry +land of magical illusion and wondrous beauty. + +There are doubtful creatures, the Corallines, for instance, that are +claimed by all the three kingdoms. They tend towards the animal, they +tend towards the mineral, and, finally, are assigned to the vegetable. +Perchance they form the real point at which Life obscurely and +mysteriously rises from the slumber of the stone, without utterly +quitting that rude starting-point, as if to remind us, so high placed +and so haughty, of the right of even the humble mineral to rise into +animation, and of the deep and eternal aspiration that lies buried, +but busy, in the bosom of Nature. + +"The fields and forests of our dry land," says Darwin, "appear sterile +and empty, if we compare them with those of the sea." And, in fact, +all who traverse the marvellous transparent Indian seas are thrilled, +stirred, startled, by the phantasmagoria that flashes up from their +far clear depths. Especially surprising is the interchange between +animal and vegetable life of their especial and characteristic +appearances. The soft impressible gelatinous plants, with rounded +organs, that are neither precisely leaves nor precisely stalks, the +delicacy of their animal curves--those Hogarthian "lines of beauty," +seem to ask us to believe that they are veritable animals, while the +real animals, on the other hand, in form, in color, in all, seem to do +their utmost to be mistaken for vegetables. Each kingdom skilfully +imitates the other. These have the solidity, the quasi permanence, of +the tree; the others alternately expand and fade like the evanescent +flower. Thus the sea Anemone opens as a roseate and pearly flower, or +as a granite star with deep blue eyes; but when her corollæ have given +forth an Anemone daughter, you see the fair mother droop, fade, die. + +Far otherwise variable, that Proteus of the waters, the Halcyon, takes +every form and every color. Now plant, now flower, it spreads itself +out into a fanlike beauty, becomes a bushy hedge, or rounds itself +into a graceful bouquet. But all this is so ephemeral, so fugitive, so +timid, so shrinking, that at the slightest touch of the softest breath +it disappears, and returns on the instant into the womb of the common +mother. In these slight and fugitive forms you at once recognize the +twin sisters of the sensitive plants of our earth; closing up, as they +close at the first breath of evening. + +When you gaze down upon a coral reef, you see the depths carpeted, +many colored flowers with fungi, masses of snowy brilliancy; every +hill, every valley, of the great deep, is variegated with a thousand +forms, and a thousand colors, from the ruddy and outstretched branches +of the coral, to the deep, rich, velvety green of the Cariophylles or +violets, which seek their food by the gentle motion of the richly +golden stamens. Above this lower world, as if to shade them from the +too glowing kiss of the ardent sun, waves a whole forest of giant and +dwarf trees and shrubs, and from tree to tree feathery spirals stretch +and interlace like the loving and embracing tendrils of the vine, but +finer in tendril and infinitely more splendid in their variegated and +contrasting, yet singularly harmonizing colors. + +This glorious sight inspires, yet agitates us; it is a dream, a +vertigo; that Fay of the shifting mirage, the Sea, adding to these +colors her own prismatic tints, fading, reappearing, now here, now +gone, a capricious and fitful inconstancy, a hesitation, a doubt. Have +we really seen it, this lovely scene? No, it was not so. Was it an +entity, or a delusion? Yes, yes, it must be real, there are certainly +very real beings there, for I see whole hosts of them lodged there and +sporting there. The molluscs confide in that reality, for there you +can see their pearly shells reflecting lights, now flashing and +brilliant, and anon of a most tender delicacy; and the crab, too, +believes in it, for see how he hastens on his sidelong path. Strange +fish, vast and curious monsters of the deep, move hither and thither +in their many colored vesture of purple and gold, and deep azure and +delicate pink; and that delicate star, the Ophiure agitates his +delicate and elegant arms. + +In this phantasmagoria the arborescent Madrepore more gravely displays +his less brilliant colors. His beauty is chiefly that of form. + +But the chief attraction of the aspect of this vast community is in +its entirety; the individual is humble, but the republic is imposing. +Here you have the strong assemblage of aloes and cactus; there you +have the superbly branching antlers of the Deer; and anon, you see the +vast stretch of the vigorous branches of the giant cedar stretching at +first horizontally, but tending to advance upward and upward still. + +Those forms at present despoiled of the thousands and tens of +thousands of living flowers, which should cover and enliven them have, +perhaps, in that stern nudity an additional attraction for the mind. I +love to look upon the trees in winter, when their bared boughs tell us +and show us what they really are. And thus it is with the Madrepores. +In their present nudity, when from pictures they have become statues, +it seems as though they were about to reveal to us the whole secret of +the minute populations of which they are at once the creation and the +monument. Many of them seem to write to us in strange characters, to +speak to us in strange tones. Their interlacings evidently have a +something to tell us, could we but understand them. But who shall be +their interpreter; who shall give us the keynote to their harmony, +mysterious harmony--but Harmony doubtless? + +How much less significant is the Bee architecture in its cold, severe, +geometry! That is the produce of life, but here we look upon life +itself. The stone was not simply the base and shelter of this people; +it was itself a previous people, an anterior generation, which, +gradually overtopped by the younger, assumed its present consistence. +And all the movements of that first community are still strikingly +visible, as details of another Herculaneum, or Pompeii. But here +everything is accomplished without catastrophe, without violence, by +orderly and natural progress; all testifies to serenity and peace. + +Every sculptor will here admire the forms of a marvellous art which +has achieved such infinite variety of forms, improving upon all arts +of ornamentation. But we have to reflect upon something far beyond +mere form. The arborescent variety on which the activity of these +laborious tribes has been so wonderfully employed, is the effort of a +thought, of a captive liberty, seeking the guiding thread in the deep +and mazy labyrinth, and timidly feeling its way upward towards the +light, and gently and gracefully working out its emancipation from +communist life. + +I have in my possession two of these little trees differing from each +other, but of like species. No vegetable is comparable to them. One, +purely white as the most immaculate alabaster, has an inexhaustible +wealth of buds, and blossoms and flowers, on every one of its many +spreading branches. The other, less white and less spreading, has also +its whole world upon its branches. Exquisitely beautiful are they +both; alike yet unlike, twins of innocence and fraternity. Oh who +shall explain to us the mystery of the infant soul that created these +faëry things! We feel that it must be at work, captive and yet free; +captive in a captivity so beloved that though still tending upward +towards freedom, it yet cares not fully to achieve it. + +The arts have not yet seized upon those wonders from which the world +has derived so much benefit. The beautiful statue of Nature (at the +entrance of the Jardin des Plantes) should have been surrounded by +them; Nature should only be exhibited as she ever lives, amidst faëry +triumphs, enthroning her on a mountain of her own beauties. Her first +born, the Madrepores, would have furnished the lower strata with their +meanders, their stars and their alabaster branches; while above, their +sisters, with their bodies and their fine hair would have made a +living bed, softly to embrace with caressing love the divine Mother in +her dream of eternal maternity. + +Painting has succeeded in these things no better than sculpture. Her +animated flowers have neither the expression nor the true, pure, +delicate coloring of the animated flowers, of the nature of which our +colored engravings give but a poor and mechanical idea, altogether +destitute of the unctuous softness, suppleness, and warm emotion of +the flowers of the fields, the woods, the gardens, or animated flowers +of the seas. Enamels, even attempted as by Palissy, are too hard and +cold; admirable for reptiles and the scales of fish, they are too +glaring to resemble these tender and soft creatures that have not even +a skin. The little exterior lungs of the annelides, the slight net +work in which certain of the Polypes float, the sensitive and +ever-moving hairs which support the Medusæ, are objects not merely +delicate to sight, but affecting to imagination. They are of every +shade, fine and vague, yet warm; as though a balmy breath had become +visible. You see an ever-varying, ever-moving rainbow that delights +your eye; but for them it is a very serious matter, the creating of +that marvellous rainbow, of various forms and colors; it is their +blood and their weak life converted into changing hues and tints, and +lights and shades. Take care! Do not stifle that little floating soul, +which mutely, but oh how eloquently, tells you its secret in those +varying and palpitating colors. + +The colors do not long survive, and their creators, the Madrepores, +themselves survive only in their base, which has been called +inorganic, but which in reality is condensed and solidified life. + +Women, who have a more delicate and penetrating sense of the beautiful +than we have, do not thus mistake; they have, at the least, confusedly +divined that one of these trees, the coral, is a living thing, and +thence the just favor in which they hold it. Vainly did science tell +them that coral was mere stone, and then that it was a plant, they +knew quite differently. + +"Madame, why is it that you prefer this tree of a dubious red, to all +the precious stones?" + +"Monsieur, it suits my complexion. Rubies are too vivid, they make me +look pale, while this, somewhat duller, rather more favorably +contrasts fairness." + +The lady is quite right; the coral and the lady are related. In the +coral, as in the lip and the cheek of the lady, it is iron, according +to Voyel, which makes the one red and the others roseate. + +"But, Madame, these brilliant stones have an incomparable polish, and +dazzling lustre." + +"Yes, but the coral has something of the softness and even the warmth +of the skin. As soon as I put it on, it seems to become a part of +myself." + +"But Madame, there are much finer reds than that of your coral +necklace." + +"Doctor, leave me this, I love it. Why? That I know not; or if there +is a reason, that which will do as well as any, is that its Eastern +and true name is 'the Blood-Flower.'" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE WORLD MAKERS. + + +Our Museum of Natural History, within its too narrow limits, contains +a faëry palace in every part of which we see the genius of +metamorphoses of Lamarck and Geoffroy. In the dark lower hall the +Madrepores serve as the base of the more and more living world that +rises, stage above stage, above. Higher up the superior creatures of +the sea display their energy of organization, and prepare the life of +the terrestrials, and above these, Mammiferæ, over which the lovely +birds spread their wings and almost seem to be still singing! The +multitude of visitors pass quickly and with small show of interest +from the Madrepores, those elder born of the globe, and hasten to the +light and to the presence of things of brightest beauty, mother of +pearl, the richly painted wings of butterflies, and the plumage of +birds. I, who stop longer below, often find myself quite alone in that +dark little gallery. + +I love that solemn crypt of the great scientific Church. There I best +can feel the sacred soul, the still present spirit of our great +masters, their great, their sublime effort, and the immortal audacity +of our voyagers and travellers, the intrepid collectors of such a +wealth of whatever is beautiful or instructive. Wherever their bones +may lie they themselves are still present in the Museum by the +treasures which they have bequeathed, treasures which some of them +have paid for with their lives. + +On the 15th of last October, having remained in that crypt somewhat +late, I had some difficulty in reading the label on some +Madrepores--that label bore the name of "Lamarck." + +A sudden warmth, a religious glow, thrilled through my heart and +brain. + +"Lamarck!" Great name, and already antique! It is as though among the +tombs of Saint Denis we should suddenly read the name of Clovis. The +glory, the strifes, the royal triumphs, of his successor, have +obscured somewhat the name of that blind Homer of the Museum, who, +with the instinct of genius created, organized, and named the +previously almost unknown class of Invertebrates; a class, nay, a +whole world, a vast abyss of soft half organized life still destitute +of vertebræ; that bony centralization and essential support of +personality. These are all the more interesting because they are +obviously the earliest of all--those humble and so long neglected +tribes. Réaumur placed the Crocodiles among the insects. The proud +Buffon deigned not to know even the names of humble Invertebrates, he +excluded them altogether from the Olympus at Versailles which he +erected to Nature. These great populations, so obscure, so confused, +which, nevertheless, prepared everything and abound every where, +remained exiled from the world of science until the coming of Lamarck. +It was precisely the elders that were thus excluded, elders so +numerous that to exclude them was, in some sort, to close the eyes and +bar the gate against nature herself. + +The genius of the Metamorphoses was emancipated by botany and +chemistry. It was a bold but most precious thing to take Lamarck, from +the Botany in which he had passed his life, and remove him to the vast +world of animality. That ardent genius, trained in miracles by the +transformations of plants, and full of faith in the unity of life, +next drew the animals, and that vast animal, the Globe, from the state +of petrifaction in which they so long had lain. Half blind, he +intrepidly treated a thousand things which the clear sighted scarcely +dared to approach. At least, he infused his fire into them, and +Geoffroy, Cuvier and Blainville found them warm and living. + +"All is living, or has been," said Lamarck; "everything is life, +either present or past." Great revolutionary effort, that, against +inert matter; effort proceeding even to suppress and banish the +inorganic! No longer any actual death. That which has lived may sleep; +and yet preserve latent life, the capacity to revive. Who is really +dead? No one. What? Nothing. + +This dictum, so novel, and so bold, swelled the sails of our +scientific age with a strong and a favoring gale; it has urged on +enquiries, such as but for it we should never have dreamed of making. +History, or Natural History, we demand of every thing, who are +you--and every where the answer is, "_I am Life_," and, thus, Death +retreats before the bold advance and eagle glance of science, and Mind +moves onward still, conquering and to conquer. + +Among these resuscitations, I first note my Madrepores, taking the +interest of life, though previously scorned, or unnoticed, as dead +stone. When Lamarck collected and explained them at the Museum, they +were detected in the mystery of their activity, in their immense +creations, and they exemplified how a world is made. That once known, +it was at once suspected that if the earth makes the animal, the +animal also makes the earth; and that each aids the other in the +office of creation. + +Animality is every where, filling every thing and peopling every +thing. We find the remains or the imprint of it even in the minerals, +as the statuary marble and alabaster, which have passed through the +crucible of the most destructive fires. At every advance, in our +knowledge of the existing, we discover an enormous past of animal +life. As soon as our improvements in Optics enabled us to discover and +to watch the Infusoriæ, we behold them making mountains and paving the +ocean. The hard silex is a mass of animalcules, the sponge is an +animated silex. Our limestones are all animals; Paris is built with +infusoriæ, a part of Germany rests upon a newly buried bed of coral. +Infusoriæ, coral, shells, chalk and lime. They are constantly taking +from the Ocean, but the fish, which devour the coral, restore it as +chalk, and restore it to the waters whence it came. Thus the Coral Sea +in its labor of production, of upheaving, in its constructions +incessantly augmented or diminished, built, ruined, and rebuilt, is an +immense fabric of limestone which is continually oscillating between +its two lives;--the _acting_ life of the day--the other life that +_will act_ to-morrow. + +Foster quite justly decides that these circular islands are the +craters of volcanoes, raised up by the polypes. He has been +contradicted, but wrongly so. Upon no other hypothesis can we account +for this identity of figure. There is always the same ring of about a +hundred paces in diameter, very low, beaten on the outside by the +waves, but enclosing a tranquil basin. A few plants of three or four +species, here and there, crown the basin with verdure. The water is of +the most beautiful green. The enclosing ring is of white sand, the +residue of dissolved coral, contrasting with the blue of the Ocean. +Beneath the salt water, our little laborers are at work, the stronger +and bolder at the breakers, the weaker and more timid on the smoother +sides. + +This is not a very varied world. But wait. The winds and the currents +are constantly at work to enrich it; come a good tempest, and all the +neighboring isles will be laid under contribution to enrich this +rising one. And in this is one of the most magnificent functions of +the Tempest; the greater, the wilder, and the more sweeping, the more +fecund it is. A water-spout passes over an island; the torrent that it +produces carries with it slime, rubbish, plants, living or dead, and +even whole forests, which the waves carry to the neighboring isles, +raising, and at the same time enriching, their soil. + +A great messenger of life, and one of the most transportable, is the +solid cocoanut. Not only does it travel well, but, when thrown upon +shoal or rock, if it find only a little poor white sand, which would +support nothing else, the cocoanut contents itself there, finds +brackish water not a jot less agreeable than the freshest; germinates, +thrives, grows into a robust cocoa tree. A tree being thus planted, +fresh water comes, falling leaves create earth, other trees follow, +and at length we see the noble palm grove, which arrests the vapors, +which at length form a rivulet or river, which, flowing from the +center of the isle, make an opening of fresh water in the cincture of +white sand, and thus keep the polypes, inhabitants only of salt water, +at a respectful distance. + +Of the rapidity with which the Polypes do their work, we have some +curious proofs. In forty days' harboring at Rio Janeiro, boats were +wholly destroyed; in a strait near Australia, there were formerly only +twenty-six islets; there are already a hundred and fifty--well +recognized: and the English admiralty believes that there are even +more; and in twenty years hence the whole strait, forty leagues in +length, will be so completely blocked up as to be unnavigable. + +The eastern shoal of Australia is three hundred and sixty leagues, +(one hundred and twenty-seven without any interruption,) and that of +New Caledonia one hundred and forty-five leagues; the single shoal of +the Maldives is almost five hundred miles long, and groups of isles in +the Pacific are four hundred leagues long, by a hundred and fifty +wide. To all this work of the Polypes, we must add, that the banks of +the isle of France, and the shallows of the Red Sea, are continually +rising. Tunis and its environs present a wholly animal world; and the +rocks present forms so strange, and colors so splendid, that the +spectator is amazed and dazzled. You see them in a space of several +leagues of shallow sea water--probably not averaging more than a foot +of depth, working calmly, but perseveringly at their business of +creating. + +Their first intelligent observer was Forster, companion of Cook, who +found them at work, caught them in the very fact of their great +conspiracy to make, noiselessly and marvellously, whole chains of +islands, to be by degrees converted into a continent. + +All this passed before his eyes, as it might have done in the first +days of the world. From the submarine depths, the central fire throws +up a dome or cone, which opens, and its lava forms a circular crater. +But the volcanic strength becomes exhausted, and the cooling lava +becomes covered with a living jelly, an animal multitude, whose +perpetual exudation of mucus continually raises the circle higher and +higher, to low water mark; no higher, or they would be dry; no lower, +because they would lack the light. If they have no special organ with +which to perceive the light, it circumfuses, penetrates, permeates +their whole being. The glowing sun of the tropics, which traverses +right through their transparent little frames, seems to have for them +all the irresistible attraction of magnetism. When the tide ebbs and +leaves them uncovered, they, nevertheless, remain open, and drink in +the vivid light. + +Dumont d'Urville, who so often coasted among their little isles, +says:--"It is a real pain to see, so near by the peace of that +interior basin, and to see all around shallow waters, beneath which +are the shelving rocks, tenanted by the coral insects, in perfect +security, while we are enduring all the shocks of a raging tempest." +But this amiable community and its edifice are a shoal, a terrible lee +shore, scarcely hidden by the shallow waters; touch upon that shoal +and you will be crushed. Trust not to anchors among those peaked and +jagged rocks; your cables, however good, would soon wear and snap. The +seaman's anxiety is extreme, in those long nights when the Southern +surges drive him among these shoals, at once so rugged and yet as +cutting as razors. + +To such accusations as these, our innocent shoal-makers +reply--"Time--give us only time, and these rocks will become +hospitable, tenanted, fruitful. These banks, joined on to their +neighboring banks, will no longer have these terrible threatenings for +the seaman. We are preparing a spare world to replace your old one +should it perish. Ingrates! Come some great and overwhelming +catastrophe to your old world, if, as some one among you has said, the +sea turns from one pole to the other in every ten thousand years, and +you perchance will bless us, and hail with joy these southern isles +which we are making, this huge southern continent that we are +preparing. Confess, now, that if, unhappily, ships do occasionally +perish on these shoals, our work here, nevertheless, is useful, and +good, and great. Our improvised world may not unjustly be proud. To +say nothing about the beauty of its triumphant colors, before which +those of your earth grow pale; to say nothing about the graceful +curves and circles on which we pride ourselves,--how many are the +problems, which, insolvable to you, find their solution among us! The +division of labor, a charming variety combined with a great +regularity, a geometrical order, softened and made graceful and +gracious by a rising liberty--where, among you men, will you find +these so combined as from the beginning we have combined them among +us? Our incessant labor in relieving the sea-water of its salts, +creates those currents which give it life and healthful power. We are +the very spirits of the Sea, giving, as we do, her motion." + +"And the sea is not ungrateful; she nourishes us at fixed periods; and +not less punctually comes the glowing sun to caress us and dower us +with brilliant colors. We are the beloved, the favored workers of the +Deity, entrusted by him with the first rude sketches and outlines of +his worlds, and all our juniors upon this globe, need us, and are +indebted to us. Our friend the Cocoa tree, that inaugurates +terrestrial life upon our isle, could not do so but from our dust. In +its far back origin, vegetable life is our liberal gift, and, made +rich by us, it nourishes the superior creation." + +"But what need of other animals? We are within our own circle +complete, harmonious and sufficing; with us the circle of creation +might be closed. For as God crowns his isle on his old volcano of +fire, he has created a volcano of life, and expansion of that living +paradise. He has created all that he needs, and now He may repose." + +Not yet, not yet. A creation must rise above yours, a thing which you +do not fear. That rival is not the tempest, you would brave it; nor +the fresh water, you would build beside it. It is not even the earth, +which by degrees is invading your constructions. What, then, is that +other power? In yourself, in Polypes, there is an ambition to cease to +be one. In your Republic there is a certain creature who in constant +anxiety and yearning, repeats that the perfection of this vegetating +existence is not real life. It constantly dreams of a freer and more +expanded life, navigating hither and thither, penetrating and viewing +the unknown world even at the hazard of shipwreck;--that thing is--the +Soul. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DAUGHTER OF THE SEAS. + + +I passed the early part of 1858 in the pleasant little town of Hyères +which, from afar, gazes down on the sea, the islets and the peninsula +by which its coast is sheltered. The sea, seen from this distance, is +even more potently seductive than when one is on its very shore. The +paths leading to it, whether we pass between gardens with their hedges +of jasmin and myrtle, or, ascending some little, pass through the +olive grounds and a little wood of pines and laurels, are exceedingly +tempting. The wood by no means hinders us from catching, now and then, +a glance of the bright sea. The place is, by no means unjustly, called +Fair-Coast. Often in the fine days of its gentle winters we met there +a most interesting invalid, a young foreign princess who had come +thither from a distance of five hundred leagues, in the hope of adding +some span to her fading and failing life. That life, short as it was, +had been a hard and sad one. Scarcely had she become a glad wife when +she found herself rudely threatened by Death. And now she dragged on +from day to day of suffering, supported and most tenderly treated by +him who lived only for her and hoped not to survive her. If wishes and +prayers could have preserved her she would still live; for all prayed +for her, especially the poor. But spring came, and bloomed and ended, +and on one of those April days whose genial influence revives every +thing we saw the two shadows pass, pale as the wandering Elysian +spectres of Virgil. + +Sad at heart with sympathy, we reached the gulf. Between the bold +rocks, the pools left by the sea contained some little creatures that +had not been able to accompany the retreating tide. Some shelled +creatures were there, self-concentrated and suffering from want of +water, and amongst them, unshelled, unsheltered, lay the living +parasol, that for some, anything, rather than good reason, we call the +_Medusa_. Why has that name of terror been given to a creature so +charming? Never before had my attention been attracted to those +wrecked beauties, which we so often see high and dry upon the sea +shore at low ebb tide. This especial one was small, not larger than my +hand, but singularly beautiful, in its delicate colors, passing so +lightly from tint to tint. It was of an opal whiteness, into which +passed, as in a light cloud, a crown of the most delicate lilac. The +wind had turned it over, so that its lilac filaments floated above, +while the umbrella, that is to say, its proper body, lay upon the +rock. Much bruised in that tender body, it was also wounded and +mutilated in its fine filaments, or hairs, which are its sensitive +organs of respiration, absorption, and even love. And the whole +creature thus thrown upside down was receiving in full force the rays +of the Provençal sun, severe in its first awakening and rendered still +more severe by the dryness of the occasional gusts of the +south-westerly winds, the _Mistral_ of our Provençal coasts. The +transparent creature was thus doubly pierced, doubly tormented, +accustomed as it was to the caressing sea, and unprovided with the +resisting epidermis of land animals. + +Close to her dried up lagune were other lagunes still full of water, +and communicating with the sea. Within a few paces of her, then, was +safety, but for her who had no organs of locomotion, excepting her +undulating hairs, it was impossible to traverse even that petty +distance, and it seemed that remaining under that fierce sun and +exposed to the arid blasts of that wind she very speedily must faint, +die, and be actually dissolved. + +Nothing more ephemeral, more delicate than these daughters of the sea. +Some of them are so fluid that they dissolve and disappear as soon as +taken from the sea. Such is that slight band of azure called the +_Girdle of Venus_. The Medusa, a little more solid has all the more +trouble in dying. Was she dying or already dead? I do not readily +believe in death, and believing that she still lived I resolved to +convey her to a lagune of salt water. To say the truth I felt some +repugnance to touching her. The delicious creature with her visible +innocence, and rainbow of tender colors, looked like a trembling jelly +which must slip from one's touch or dissolve in one's grasp. However, +I conquered this repugnance, slid my hand gently beneath her and as I +turned her over her hairs fell down into their natural position, when +used in swimming. I thus carried her to the water, where she sank +without giving the slightest sign of life. I walked about the shore, +but in about ten minutes returned to look after my Medusa. She was +swimming under water, her hairs undulating gracefully beneath her; and +slowly, but safely, she had left the rock far behind her. + +Poor creature, perhaps she got wrecked or stranded again, ere long, +for it is impossible to navigate with weaker means or in a fashion +more dangerous. The Medusæ fear the shore where so many hard +substances hurt them, and in the open sea they are liable +to be overturned at every gust of wind, in which case, their +swimming-feathers being above instead of below their bodies, they are +carried hither and thither, at random, upon the waves, as the prey of +fish or the delight of birds who find sport and profit in seizing +them. + +During a whole season which I spent on the banks of Gironde I saw them +cast ashore to perish miserably by hundreds. On their arrival they +were white and brilliant as crystal. Alas! How different was their +aspect in the course of a couple of days. Very happily they sank +beneath the sand and were lost to my pitying view. + +They are the food of every thing marine, and have themselves scarce +any aliment, none that we know of, but the, as yet, scarce organized +atoms floating in the sea which they, etherialize, as we may say, and +suck in without making them suffer. They have neither teeth nor +weapons; no defence, excepting that some species, Forbes says not all, +can secrete, when attacked, a liquid which stings somewhat like the +nettle, but so faintly that Dicquemare with impunity received some of +it in his eye. + +Here we have, indeed, a creature little provided and in great peril. +She is superior already; she has senses, and, if we may judge from her +contractions, a great sensibility to suffering. She cannot, like the +Polypus, be divided and live. Divide him and you double his existence; +divide her and she dies. Gelatinous as the polypus, the Medusa seems +to be an embryon cast away too soon from the bosom of the common +mother, torn from the solid base and the association to which the +Polypus owes his safety, and launched into adventure. How has the +imprudent creature set out? How, without sails, or oars, or helm, has +she left her port? What is her point of departure? + +Ellis, as long ago as 1750, saw a little Medusa produced from the +campanular polypus, and many later observers have ascertained that she +is a kind of polypus that has left the society. To speak more simply, +she is an escaped polypus. + +And the learned M. Forbes who has so deeply studied them, very aptly +asks, what is there astonishing in that? It only shows that to that +extent the animal still obeys the vegetable law. From the tree, the +collective being, proceeds the individual, the detached fruit which +fruit will make another tree. A pear tree is a sort of vegetable +polypus of which the pear, (the emancipated individual) can give us a +pear tree. + +In like manner, adds Forbes, as the leaf laden tree, stops in its +development, contracts, and becomes an organ of love--i. e. a flower, +the _Polypier_, contracting some of its polypes and transforming their +contractions, forms the placenta, the eggs from which proceeds the +young and graceful Medusa. + +One would guess as much from her hesitating grace, that weakness at +once so unarmed and so fearless, which embarks without instruments of +navigation, and trusts too much to life. It is the first tender and +touching adventure of the new soul going forth without defence from +the security of the common life, to be itself, an individual acting +and suffering on its own account--soft sketch of free nature; an +embryon of liberty. + +To be oneself, oneself alone, in a little complete world, was a great +temptation for all. A universal seduction! a beautiful folly, which +causes all the effort and all the progress of the world, from our +earth upward to the very stars. But in her first attempts the Medusa, +seems especially unjustified. One would say that she was created on +purpose to be drowned. Laden above, and ill-ballasted below, she is +formed in conditions exactly opposite to those of her parent, the +Physalie. This latter displays on the surface of the water, only a +little balloon, an insubmersible membrane and below has infinitely +long tentaculæ, of twenty feet or more, which steady her, sweep the +waters, stupefy the fish, make prey of him. Light and careless, +inflating her pearly balloon of blue or purple tints, she darts from +her long hairy tentaculæ a subtle and murderous poison. Less +formidable, the Velelles are no less secure. They have the form of +_radeaux_, their minute organization is already somewhat solid, and +they can steer and trim their oblique sail to every wind. The +Porpites, that seem to be only a flower, a sea Margaret, have their +own peculiar levity; even after death, they continue to float. It is +the same with many other fantastic and almost aërial beings, garlands +with golden bells or with rosebuds--such as the Physopheres, +Stephanomie, &c., azure girdles of Venus. All these swim and float +invincibly, fear only the shore, and sail boldly out on the open sea, +and when it is ever so rough are perfectly safe there. So little do +the Porpites and Velelles fear the sea, that, being able to rise at +pleasure, they exert themselves to sink to the concealing depths when +the weather is bad. + +Not such is our poor Medusa. Fearing the shore, she is also in danger +at sea. She could sink into the depths at will, but the watery abyss +is forbidden to her; she can live only on the surface, in the broad +light and in full peril. She sees, she hears, and her sense of touch +is very delicate, to her misfortune, too much so. She cannot guide +herself; her most complicated organs overload and overbalance her. + +And so we are tempted to believe that she must needs repent of so +perilous a search after liberty; and desires to be back in the +inferior state, the security of the common life. The polypier made the +Medusa, she in turn makes the polypier, and returns to the life of +community. But this vegetating state wearies her, and in the next +generation she again emancipates herself and goes forth again to the +perils of her vain navigation. Strange alternation, in which she +floats incessantly; moving, she dreams of repose; in rest, she sighs +for movement. + +These strange metamorphoses, which by turns raise and abase the +undecided creature, keeping her alternating between two lives so +different, are apparently the case of the inferior species, of the +Medusa which have not been able to enter decidedly into the +irrevocable career of emancipation. For the others, we can easily +suppose that their charming varieties mark the interior progress of +life, the degrees of development, the sports, the smiling graces of +their new liberty. This latter class, admirably artistic, won this so +simple theme of a disk or parasol which floats, of a light lustre of +crystal which reflects the sun's glowing and coloring lights, has made +an infinity of variations, a deluge of little marvels. + +All these beauties floating on the green mirror of the sea in their +gay and delicate colors, and in the thousand attractions of an +infantine and unconscious coquetry, have puzzled Science, which to +class and to name them, has been obliged to call to its aid both the +Queens of History and the Goddesses of Mythology. Here we have the +waving Berenice, whose rich hair floats another and brighter flood +upon the flood; there we have the little Orithya, the fair spouse of +Eölus, who, at the breathing of her husband, displays her pure, white +urn, uncertain, and scarcely supported by her fine hair, which she +often entangles beneath, or the weeping Dionea, looking like an +alabaster cup, from which, in crystalline streamlets, flow splendid +tears. Such, when in Switzerland, I saw spreading themselves the +wearied and idle cascades, which, having made too many turnings, +seemed dropping with drowsiness and languor. + +In the great faëry of the illumination of the sea on stormy nights, +the Medusa has her separate part. Bathed, like so many other beings, +in the phosphoric fluid with which they are all penetrated, she +returns it in her manner, with a peculiar charm. + +How dark is the night at sea when we do not see that phosphoric gleam +or a fitful flashing! How vast and formidable are those dark depths, +on such gloomy nights. On land, the shadows are less dense and +impenetrable, we see, if dimly, and make out forms, if imperfectly, so +that we get so many directing marks. But at sea, how vast, unbroken, +infinitely dense is the darkness of the dark nights. Nothing, still +nothing; a thousand dangers to be imagined, but not one to be seen and +avoided! + +We feel all this, even when living on the coast. It is a great +gladness, an exciting pleasure, when, the air becoming electric, we +see in the distance, a slight line of pale fire. What is it? We see it +even at home, on the dead fish, the Herring, for instance. But, living +in his great sea, he is still more luminous in the long trains that +he leaves behind him. That phosphoric brilliancy is by no means the +exclusive privilege of Death. Is it an effect of Heat? No, for you +find it at both poles, in the Antarctic Seas, in the Siberian Seas, in +ours--in all. + +It is the common electricity which the half-living waters throw off in +stormy weather; the innocent and pacific lightning of which all marine +creatures are then so many conductors. They inhale it, and they exhale +it, and they restore it largely when they die. The sea gives it, and +the sea takes it back again. Along the coasts and in the straits, the +currents and the collisions, cause it to circulate the more +powerfully, and each creature, according to its waters, takes more or +less of it. Here, immense surfaces of peaceable infusoriæ appear, like +a milky sea, of a mild, white light, which, when more animated, turns +to the yellow of burning sulphur; there their conical lights pirouette +upon their own bases, or roll in red balls. A great disc of fire +(Pyrosome) commences with an opaline yellow, becomes for a moment +greenish, then bursts into red and orange, and at last darkens down +into blue. These changes occur with an approach to regularity that +would indicate a natural function, the contraction and dilatation of +some vast creature, breathing fire. + +Then on the horizon, fiery serpents writhe and glide along an immense +length--sometimes to the extent of twenty-five or thirty leagues. The +Biphores and the Salpas, transparent alike to sea and sulphur, are the +performers in this serpentine spectacle, an astonishing company which +disport themselves in this frantic dance, and then separate. +Separated, its free members produce free little ones, which, in their +turn light up the horizon with their dancing and wild lights. Great +fleets, more peaceful, float over the waves of lights. The Velelles, +at night, light up their little craft. The Beroes are triumphant as +flames. None more magical than those of our Medusæ. Is it in part a +physical effect like that which gives their serpentine motion to the +Salpas, injected with fire? Is it, as others think, and as some +observations would lead us to believe, an act of aspiration? Is it a +caprice, as with so many beings that throw out their sparkles and +flashes of a vain and inconstant joy? No, the noble and beautiful +Medusæ, such as the crowned Oceanique, and the lovely Idonea, seem to +express gravest thoughts. Beneath them, their luminous hair, like some +sombre watch-light, gives out mysterious lights of emerald and other +colors, which, now flashing, anon growing pale, reveal a sentiment, +and, I know not what of mystery; suggesting to us the spirit of the +abyss, meditating its secrets; the soul that exists, or is to exist +some day. Or should it not rather suggest to us some melancholy dream +of an impossible destiny which is never to attain its end? Or an +appeal to that rapture of love which alone consoles us here below? + +We know that on land our fire flies, by their fire give the signal of +the bashful yet eager lover who thus betrays her retreat, and decoys +her mate. Have the Medusæ this same sense? We know not; but thus much +is certain, that they yield at once their flame and their life. The +fecund sap, their generative virtue, escapes and diminishes at every +gleam. If we desire the cruel pleasure of redoubling this brilliant +faëry, we have only to expose them to warmth. Then they become +excited, flash, and become beautiful, oh, so exquisitely +beautiful--and then the scene is at an end. Flame, love, and life, all +are at an end--all evanish for ever. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE STONE PICKER. + + +When the excellent Doctor Livingstone visited the poor Africans who +have so much difficulty in defending themselves against the Lion and +the slave merchant, the women, seeing him armed with all the +protecting arts of Europe, invoked him as their friend and providence +in these touching words--"Give us sleep!" + +And such is the prayer which all beings in their own language address +to Nature. All desire, and all dream of, security. We cannot doubt of +that when we note the ingenious endeavors which are made to obtain it. +Those efforts have given birth to the arts. Man has not invented one, +which animals had not previously invented, under that strong and +abiding instinct, the desire of safety. + +They suffer, they fear, they desire to live. We must not assume that +creatures little advanced, and as it were embryonic, have, therefore, +but little sensibility. The very contrary is certain. In every +embryon, that which first appears, is the nervous system, that is to +say, the organ and capacity of feeling and of suffering. Pain is the +spur by which the creature is urged to foresight and expedients. +Pleasure serves the like purpose, and it is already observable even in +those which seem the most cold. It has been observed that the snail, +after the painful researches of his love, is singularly happy on +meeting again the loved object. Both of them with a touching grace +wave their swan-like necks, and bestow upon each other the most lively +caresses. Who is it that tells us this? The rigid, the very exact +Blainville. + +But alas! how largely and how widely is pain distributed! Who has not +noted with pity the painful efforts of the shell-less mollusc, as he +grovels along on his unguarded belly? Painful but faithful image of a +foetus untimely torn from the mother by some cruel chance, and cast +upon the ground naked and defenceless. The poor mollusc thickens and +indurates his skin as well as he can, softens the asperities of his +road, and renders it slippery. But at every contact with the ragged or +pointed stones, his writhings and contractions only too plainly show +how great is his sensibility to pain. + +Notwithstanding all this, she loves, does that great Soul of Harmony +which is the unity of the world; she loves all beings, and by +alternations of pleasure and of pain, instructs them and compels them +to ascend. But to ascend, to pass into a superior grade, they must +first exhaust all that the lower one can furnish of trials more or +less painful, of instinctive art, and of stimulants to invention. They +must even have exaggerated their species, perceived its excesses, and, +by contrast, be inspired with the craving and the need of an opposite +one. Progress is thus made by a kind of oscillation between contrary +qualities, which by turns are separated from life, and incarnated with +it. + +Let us translate these divine things into human language, familiar, +indeed, and little worthy of the grandeur of such things, but which +will make them understood: + +Nature, having long delighted to make, unmake, and remake the Medusæ, +thus infinitely varying the theme of infant liberty, smote her +forehead one morning, and said--"I have a new and a delicious idea. I +forgot to secure the life of the poor creature. It can continue only +by the infinity of number, the very excess of its fecundity. I must +now have a creature at once better guarded and more prudent. It shall +if need be, be timid, even to excess, but above all, it is my will +that it shall survive." + +These timid creatures, when they appeared, were of a prudence carried +to its extremest limits. They shut themselves in, shunning even the +light of day. To save themselves from the rude contact of sharp and +ragged stones, they employed the universal means, a glutinous mucus +from which they secreted an enveloping tube, which elongated in +proportion to the length of their journey. A poor expedient, that, +which kept these miners, the Tarets out of the light and out of the +free air, and which compelled an enormous expenditure of their +substance. Every step cost them enormously; a creature thus ruining +itself that it may live, can only vegetate--poor, and incapable of +progress. + +The next resource was not much better, temporarily to bury themselves, +going below the sands at low water, and rising to the flood-tide; the +resource of the Solen. A varying life that, fugitive twice a day, and +consequently full of anxiety. + +Among very inferior creatures a thing as yet obscure, which was in +time to change the world, began to appear. The simple sea stars had in +their fine rays a certain support, a sort of jointed carpentry, and on +the outside some thorns, suckers, which could be thrust forward or +withdrawn at will. An animal very humble, but timid and serious, seems +to have profited by this coarse specimen. It said, I imagine, to +Nature: + +"I am quite without ambition. I do not ask for the brilliant gifts of +the molluscs; I covet neither pearl nor mother of pearl, much less the +brilliant colors, the gorgeous array which would discover and betray +me; least of all do I envy your silly medusæ, with the fatal charm of +their waving and fiery hair, which serves only to drown them, or give +them a helpless prey to fish below or birds above. Oh, mother Nature, +I ask but one thing, _to be_, to exist, to have life; to be one, self +concentrated, and without compromising external appendages; to be +strongly and solidly built, self centred, and of rounded figure, as +that is the figure that is least easily taken hold of. I have but +little desire to travel; sometimes to roll from high to low water will +suffice me. Fastened to my rock, I will solve the problem which your +future favorite, man, will vainly brood over, the problem of safety; +_the strict exclusion of enemies, and the free admission of friends_, +especially water, air, and light. I know that to achieve this, I must +work hard and work long. Covered with movable thorns, I shall be +avoided, I shall live a strictly retired life; and my name shall be +oursin, little Bear, or sea hedge-hog." + +How superior is that prudent animal to the Polypes, in their own +stone, which they make from their own secretion, without hard labor, +indeed, but also without affording them any safety; how superior, even +to his superiors themselves, I mean to so many _molluscs_, who have +more various senses, but are destitute of the unity of his vertebral +provision, of his persevering labor, and of the skillful tools with +which that very labor has provided him. + +The great marvel, however, of this poor rolling ball, which we might +mistake for a thorny chestnut, is that he is at once _one and +multiple_, _fixed and movable_, and consists of two thousand four +hundred pieces, which separate at his will and pleasure. + +Let us see his history of creation. + +It was in a narrow creek of the Sea of Brittany, where there was no +soft bed of polypes and of Algæ, such as the sea hedge-hogs of the +Indian Sea enjoy, in addition to their exemption from labor. Our +Breton, on the contrary, was in presence of great peril and +difficulty; like Ulysses, in the Odyssey, who, cast ashore, and anon +washed seaward again, endeavored to fasten himself to the rock, with +his torn and bleeding fingers. Every ebb and flow of the tide was to +our little Ulysses, as bad as a mighty tempest; but his iron will and +potent desire made him cling so closely and lovingly to the rock, that +he became fastened to it as though the air had been expelled from +between them by the cupping glass. At the same time his strong thorns +scratched and scratched, and endeavored to get a hold, and one of them +subdivided and formed a triple and real anchor of safety in aid of the +cupping glass, if this latter should fail to act quite perfectly on a +by no means smooth surface. + +After he had thus doubly secured himself to his rock, he gradually +comprehended that he would be a great gainer if he could form a +concavity in it, gradually dig himself out a hole, and thus form +himself a snug nest, for the day of sickness or of age. For, in fact, +one is not always young and strong. And how pleasant it would be, if, +some day, the veteran oursin could relax somewhat of the effort +necessitated by this constant holding on, this anchorage by day and +night. + +So he worked and worked, to make a hollow; it was for dear life that +he was working, and you may be sure that he never relaxed. Formed of +detached pieces, he worked with five claws, which, always pushing +together, united and formed an admirable pick. His pick of five teeth, +of the finest enamel, is attached to a frame work, delicate, but very +strong, and consisting of forty pieces, which work in a sort of +sheath, playing in and out, in the most perfect and regular manner, +with an elasticity preventing too violent shocks, and self-repairing, +in case of any accident. + +Rarely, in the softer stone, which he holds in contempt, but almost +always in the solid rock, in the hardest granite, it is that this +heroically laborious sculptor goes to work. The harder the rock, the +firmer he feels himself secured. And, then, in fact, what does it +matter about the length of the task? Time is of no consequence to him, +centuries are before him; supposing that his tools and his life +should end to-morrow, another would take his place and continue his +work. During their life, they hold but little communication, these +hermits; but in death a brotherhood exists, even for them, and the +young survivor, who shall find the work half done, will bless the +memory of the good workman who has preceded him. + +Do not fancy that he strikes, and strikes continually. He has an art, +a labor-saving art of his own. When he has well attacked the layers of +the rock, and well cleaned it, he tears away the asperities as with +little pincers. A work of great patience, and one which requires long +intervals, too, in order that the water may aid in doing the work upon +the denuded parts. He then proceeds to the second layer, then to the +next, and so on till the long, long labor is at length completed. + +In this uniform life, however, there are occasional crises, even as in +the life of the poor human laborer. The sea retires from certain +shores; in the summer, this or that rock becomes quite insupportably +hot; and our oursin must have two houses, one for summer, and one for +winter. A great event, that, of moving from place to place, for a +creature without feet and covered all over with points. M. Cailland +had an opportunity of observing the conduct of the creature under +those circumstances. The weak and movable scoops which play backward +and forward, are by no means insensible though he protects them +somewhat by covering them with a little soft gelatine. At length he +steadies himself on his thorns, as on so many crutches, rolls his +Diogenes' tub, and attains his port as he best may. Arrived there, he +shuts himself up again, and in the little nest which he almost always +finds partly made, he concentrates himself in the enjoyment of his +solitary and thrice blessed security. Let a thousand enemies prowl +without, let the storm-lashed wave moan or rage, all that is for his +pleasure. Let the very rock tremble at the dash of the breakers; he +well knows that he has nothing to fear, that it is only his kind nurse +that is making all that noise; he is safe in his cradle, and with a +glad good night, he sleeps. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SHELLS, MOTHER OF PEARL, AND PEARL. + + +The oursin has carried the genius of defence to its utmost limit. His +cuirass, or, preferably, his fortress of pieces, is at once movable +and resisting, yet sensitive, retractile, and capable of being +repaired in case of accident; this fortress is fast-joined and +anchored to the rock, and still farther lodged within a hollow of the +rock, so that the enemy has no means of attacking the citadel;--it is +a system of defence so perfect that it can never be surpassed. No +shell is comparable to it; far less are any of the works of human +industry. + +The oursin is the completion of the starred and circular creatures; in +him they have their highest and most triumphant development. The +circle has few variations; it is the absolute form; in the globe of +the oursin, at once so simple and so complicated, is the perfection +and completion of the first world. + +The beauty of the world next to come, will be the harmony of double +forms, their equilibrium, the gracefulness of their oscillation. From +the molluscs even up to man, every being in this next world is to be +made up of two corresponding halves; in every animal is to be found +(far better than _unity_) _Union_. + +The master piece of the oursin had gone even beyond what was needed; +that miracle of defence had made him prisoner; he was not only shut in +but buried; he had dug his own grave. His perfection of isolation had +banished him, deprived him of all connections, and of all possibility +of progress. + +To have a regular ascent, we must commence from a very low stage, from +the elementary embryon, which at the outset will have no other +movement than that of the elements. The new creature is the mere serf +of the planet; so completely so, that even in the egg, it turns as the +earth turns, with its double turning on its own axis, and the general +rotation. + +Even when emancipated from the egg, growing up, become adult, it will +still remain the embryon, the soft mollusc. It will vaguely represent +the progress of the superior lives; it will be as the foetus, as the +larvæ or nymph of the insect, in which, folded and hidden, there yet +are the organs of the winged creature which is yet to come. + +One trembles for a creature so weak; even the polypus though not less +soft is less in danger. Having life equally in all its parts, wounds, +even mutilations will not kill the polypus: wounded and mutilated he +still lives on, apparently forgetful of the excised parts. But the +centralised mollusc is far more vulnerable. What a door in his ease is +open to death! + +The uncertain motion of the Medusa, which sometimes, perchance, may +save her; the mollusc, at least at the outset, possesses but very +slightly. All that is granted to him is his sloughing or exuding a +gelatine matter, which walls him in, and replaces the cuirass of the +oursin and the oursin's rock. The mollusc has the advantage of finding +his defence within himself. Two valves form a house, light and +fragile, indeed, so much so that those which float are transparent; in +the case of those which are to be stationary, the mucus forms a +filamentary anchoring cable, called the hyssas. It is formed exactly +as silk is from an element originally quite gelatinous. The gigantic +Iridacne, moors so fast by that cable, that the Madrepores mistake it +for an islet, build upon it, envelope it, and strangle it. + +Passive and motionless life. It has no other event than the periodical +visit of the sun and light, and no other action but to absorb what +comes, and to secrete the jelly which makes the house, and will by +degrees do the rest. The attraction of the light, always in the same +direction, centralizes the view; and behold the eye. The secretion +fixed by a constant effort, becomes an appendage, an organ which +lately was a cable, and which by and bye will become the foot, a +shapeless and inarticulated mass, which will bend itself to anything. +It is the fin of those that swim, the pick of those that burrow in the +sand, and the foot of those who at first rather crawl than walk. Some +species arch it so that they can make a clumsy essay at leaping. + +Poor tribe, terribly exposed, pursued by many enemies, tossed by the +waves and bruised on the rocks. Those of them which do not succeed in +building a house, seek a shelter in living beds; they find a tent with +the polypes, or with the floating Halcyons. The pearl-bearing Avicule, +tries to find a quiet life in the hollows of the sponge. The Pholade, +tries in his stony retreat, to imitate the arts of the oursins, but +with what inferiority! Instead of the admirable chisel of the oursin, +which might be envied by our stone cutters, the Pholade has but a +little rasp, and to dig out a shelter for her fragile shell, she wears +out the shell itself. + +With but a few exceptions, the moluscs know themselves the prey of +everything, and are therefore the most timid of creatures. The Cone so +well knows that he is sought after, that he dares not leave his +shelter, and dies there, from fear of being killed. The Volute and the +Porcelain drag slowly along their pretty houses, and conceal them as +well as they can. The Casque, to get along with his palace, has only +a little Chinese foot, so small and so useless that he scarcely +attempts to walk. + +Such the life, such the dwelling; in no other species is there more +complete identity between the inhabitant and the habitation; taken +from his own substance, his house is but a continuation, a supplement +of his own body; alike it even in form and tints. The architect, +beneath the edifice, is himself its very foundation-stone. + +A very simple thing it is for the sedentaries to remain sedentary. The +oyster, regularly fed by the sea, has only to gape when he would dine, +and sharply to close his shells, when he has any suspicion that he may +become himself a dinner for some hungry neighbor. But for the +travelling mollusc the thing is more complicated. He can travel, but +he cannot leave behind him his beloved house which he will need for +defence as well as shelter; and it is precisely while on his journey, +that he is most liable to be attacked. He must shelter, above all, the +most delicate part of his being, the tree by which he breathes, and +whose little roots nourish him. His head is of little consequence, +often it is lost without the destruction of life; but if the viscera +were left uncovered and wounded, he must die. + +Thus, prudent and cuirassed he seeks his livelihood. Come nightfall, +he asks himself whether he will be quite safe in a wide open lodging? +Will not some inquisitives intrude a look--who knows--may not some +one find the way in with claw and tooth as well as glance? + +The hermit reflects. He has but one instrument, his foot, from that he +developes a very serviceable appendage with which he closes the +aperture and behold him safe at home for the night. His great and +permanent difficulty is this, to combine safety with connection with +the outer world. He cannot, like the oursin, utterly isolate himself; +without the aid of his instructors and nurses, light and air, he +cannot strengthen his soft body and make his organs. He must acquire +senses; he needs scent and hearing, those guides of the blind; he must +acquire sight, and above all, he must be able to breathe freely. Great +and imperative function, that! How little we think of it while it is +easy; but what terrible pain and agitation if it become too difficult! +Let our lungs become congested, let the larynx even be embarrassed for +a single night and our agitation and anxiety are so extreme, so +unendurable, that often, at all risks, we have every window thrown +open. With the asthmatic, the anxiety and torture are so extreme that +when they cannot breathe freely through the natural organ, they create +a supplementary means. Air, air, air, or death! + +Nature, when thus pressed, is terribly inventive. We not wonder if the +poor sedentaries, stifling in their houses, have discovered a thousand +means, invented a thousand sorts of pipes through which to admit the +vital air. One admits air between plates around his feet, another by a +sort of comb, another by a disc or buckler, and others by extending +threads, some with pretty side plumes, and lastly, some have on their +back a little tree, a pretty miniature aspen, which trembles +continually and at every movement inhales or exhales a breath. + +Sometimes those most sensitive and important organs affect the most +elegant and fanciful forms; we would say that they wish to plead, to +melt, to secure mercy, taking every form and every color. These little +children of the sea, the molluscs, in their infantine grace, in their +rich variety of colors, are their ocean mother's eternal ornament and +joy. Stern as she may be, she has but to look on them, and she must +smile. + +But a timid life is full of melancholy. One cannot doubt that she +greatly suffers from her severe seclusion, that fairest of the fair, +that queen beauty of the seas, the Haliotide. She has a foot, and +could, if she chose, get along, though slowly; but she dares not. Ask +her why, and she will reply: "I am afraid. The Crab is continually +watching me, and a whole world of voracious fish are continually +swimming over my head. My cruel admirer, man, punishes me for my +beauty; pursuing me from the Indies to the Pole, and is now loading +whole ships with me at golden California." + +But the unfortunate, though unable to go out, has discovered a subtle +means of procuring air and water; in her house, she has little +windows, which communicate with her little lungs. Hunger at length +compels her to risk something, and towards evening she crawls a little +around, and feeds on some sea-weed, her sole nourishment. + +Here let us remark, that those marvellous shells, not only the +Haliotide, but the Widow (black and white) and the Golden Mouth (of +mingled pearly and gold color,) are poor herbivori, inoffensive, +temperate, feeders. A living, and decisive refutation, that, of those +who fancy that beauty is the daughter of Death, of blood, of murder, +of a merely brutal accumulation of animal substance. + +But to these, our beautiful shell-tenants, the merest modicum of +subsistence suffices. Their chief aliment is the light which they +drink in, by which they are permeated, by which they color and tint, +with more than rainbow beauty, and variety of tint, their inner +dwelling, in which they conceal and cherish their solitary love. Each +of them is double, hermaphrodite; lover and loved, in one. As the +palaces of the East are concealed by dark and repulsive outer walls, +so, here, also, without, all is rude, within, all is of the most +dazzling beauty; the hymeneal seclusion is lightened up by the +gleaming and many-hued reflections of a little sea of mother of pearl, +which, even when the house is closed to the outer light, create a +faëry, a mysterious, and a most lovely twilight. + +It is a great consolation that when our poor prisoners cannot have the +sun, they can at least have a moon of their own, a paradise of soft +and trembling lights, ever changing, yet ever renewed, and giving to +that sedentary life, that little variety which is absolutely needed by +every creature. + +The poor children who work in the mines, ask visitors, not for food, +or sweetmeats, or money, or toys--all they ask for is the means of +getting more light. And it is the same with our Ocean children, the +Haliotides. Every day, blind though they be, they feel, and greedily +welcome, the return of the light, receiving it, and contemplating it, +with the whole of their transparent bodies; and when the light has +departed, from without, they still preserve and nurse some portion of +it within themselves. They watch, they wait, they hope for its return; +their whole little soul consists of that hope, that watching, that +eager desire, that incessant yearning. Who can doubt that the return +of the glad light is as delightful to them as it is to us, nay, even +more so than it is to us, who have the manifold distractions of so +busy and varied a life? + +Their whole lives pass in thinking, wishing, divining, hoping, or +regretting; their great lover, the Sun. Never seeing him, they yet, in +their own fashion, certainly comprehend that that warmth, that +glorious light comes to them from without, and from a great centre, +powerful, fecund and beneficent. And they love that great deeply felt, +though never seen, central light, which caresses them, fills them with +joy, floods them with life. Had they the power, they no doubt would +rush to seek his rays. And, at least, attached as they are to their +abode, they, like the Brahmin at the door of the Pagoda, silently +offer him up their homage, at once meditative and thrilling. First +flower of instructive worship. Already they love and pray, who say the +little word which the Holy prefers to all prayer--that _Oh!_ that +heart utterance, which contents and pleases Heaven. When the Indian +utters it at sunrise, he well knows that all that innocent world of +mother of pearl, pearl, and humblest shells, utters it with him, from +the depths of the seas. + +I fully understand what the sight of the pearl suggests of feeling and +fancy to the charmingly untutored heart, the woman heart, that dreams, +and fancies, and is stirred by a sweet, and strange, and +uncomprehended emotion. That pearl is not exactly a person, but +neither, on the other hand, is it exactly a thing. What adorable +whiteness; no, call it not mere whiteness, but _candor_, virginal +candor; no, not virginal, but better still. For your young virgins, +sweet and modest as they are, have always a slight dash of young +tartness, and verdancy. No, the pearl's candor rather resembles that +of the innocent young bride, so pure, yet so submissive to love. + +No ambition to shine. Our pearl softens, almost suppresses, its +lights. At first, you see only a dull white; it is only when you have +taken a second and a closer glance that you discover its mysterious +iris, its exquisitely glancing and pure light. + +Where lived it? Ask the deep Ocean. On what? Ask the sunbeams; like +some clear spirit it lived on love and light. + +Great mystery! But our beautiful pearl herself explains it. We cannot +look upon her without feeling that this creature, at once so lovely +and so meek, must for a long time have lived in quietude, waiting and +waited for, willing nothing and doing nothing, but the will of the +beloved one. + +The son of the sea put his beautiful dream into his shell, the shell +into the mother of pearl, and she into the pearl, which is but a +concentration of herself. + +But the pearl we are told only comes to her mother in consequence of +some wound, some continued suffering, which withdraws or absorbs all +vulgar life into that divine poetry. + +I have been told that the great ladies of the East, more delicate and +tasteful than our vulgar rich, shun the diamond and allow their soft +skin to be touched only by the pearl. And in truth, the brilliancy of +the diamond is not in accord with the light of love. A necklace and a +pair of bracelets of fine pearls are the harmonious and true +decorations for woman; instead of diverting the glance of the lover, +they move him, make tenderness more tender--say to him--"No noise--let +us love!" The pearl seems amorous of woman, and woman of the pearl. +The ladies of the North, when they have once put on pearl ornaments, +never afterwards remove them, but carry them day and night concealed +beneath their attire. On very rare occasions, if the rich fur cape, +lined with white satin, chances to slip aside, we may catch a +momentary glance of the happy ornament, the inseparable necklace. It +reminds one of the silken tunic which the Odalisque wears close to her +person, and loves so much that she will not part with it until it is +worn and torn beyond all possibility of repair; believing it as she +does to be a talisman, an infallible love charm. + +It is just so with the pearl; like the silk, it drinks in and is +impregnated with the very life of the wearer. When it has slept so +many nights upon her fair bosom, the ornament is no longer an +ornament, it is a part of the person, and is no longer to be seen by +an indifferent eye. One alone has a right to know it, and to surprise +upon that necklace the mystery of the beloved woman. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE SEA ROVERS (POULPE, &C.) + + +The Medusæ and the Molluscs are generally innocent creatures, and I +have thus far dwelt, as it were, with them in their amiable and +peaceful world. Thus far I have met with few carnivora; and even those +few killed only in the stern necessity of hunger, and even of those +part fed only on atoms, animal jelly, life unorganized, and scarcely +commenced. As a consequence, pain, anger, cruelty were absent. Their +little souls had, nevertheless, a ray, the aspiration towards the +light alike of Heaven and of Love, revealed in the changing flame +which illumines and rejoices the seas. + +But, now, I have to enter into quite another world: a world of war, +slaughter, fierce pursuit, and greedy devouring. I must confess that +from the beginning, from the first appearance of life, death also +appeared; a rapid and useful purification of the globe from the weak +and slow, but prolific tribes whose fecundity would otherwise have +been mischievous. In the oldest strata we find two wondrous creatures, +the _Devourer_ and the _Sucker_. The first is made known to us by the +imprint of the Trilobite, a species no longer existing, an extinct +destroyer of extinct species. The second is known to us by a frightful +remnant, a beak of almost two feet pertaining to the great Sucker, the +Leiche or Poulpe of Dujardin. Judging from that immense beak, this +monster must have had an enormous body, and sucking-arms of twenty or +thirty feet, like a prodigious spider. + +Sad reflection, these murderous creatures are those which we earliest +find in the depths of the earth. Are we then to suppose that death +preceded life? No doubt; but the soft creatures upon which these +monsters fed have perished utterly, not leaving remains or even +imprint of themselves. + +The devourers and the devoured, were they two nations of different +origin? The contrary is more probable. From the mollusc, form +undecided, matter still fit to be converted to any form, the +superabundant strength of the young world, richly plethoric, abounding +in alimentation, there must at an early period have proceeded two +forms, contrary in appearance, but tending and qualified to the same +end. Swelling and breathing, and measurelessly inflating itself, the +Mollusc became an enormous balloon, an absorbing bladder, absorbing +all the more as it stretched the more, ever craving and ever +consuming, but toothless,--and we have the _Sucker_. On the other +hand, by the self-same force, the Mollusc gradually developing +articulated members of which each had its shell, and hardening this +shelled creature everywhere, but especially at the claws and mandibles +formed for gnawing and grinding, to pulp or powder, the very hardest +substances became--the _Devourer_. Let us in the first place, in this +chapter, speak of the first, the _Sucker_. + +The Sucker of the soft gelatinous world, was himself soft and +gelatinous. Warring upon and devouring the molluscs, he himself none +the less, remained mollusc, that is to say, still a mere embryon. +There would be something absurd, caricatural, were it not so terrible, +in this sight of a mere foetus, soft and transparent, yet cruel, +raging, eager, breathing nothing but murder. For he, see you, goes not +to war for the mere sake of food. He has a real passion for +destroying, for destruction's sake; whenever he has gorged himself, +well nigh to bursting, he will destroy still. Destitute of defensive +armour, his threatening snortings disguise, but by no means quiet, his +real anxiety; his real, his only safety, is an attack. He is the +veritable bully of the young world; really vulnerable himself, and yet +so terrible to others; he sees in everything that he meets only enemy +or victim. At all risks he casts hither and thither his long arms, or +rather his whip-lashes, tipped with cupping glasses, and upon enemy or +victim, before the fight or the capture commences, he sends out his +stupefying, paralysing effluvia. + +Double power. To the mechanical strength of these outstretched arms, +add the magical force of that mysterious fluid, and a singularly acute +hearing and quick eye. You see in all these, a creature to alarm you. + +What must it have been, then, when the early world so lavished its +wealth of alimentation, that these monsters of the deep could feed and +swell indefinitely? They have decreased now, both in number and in +size. Yet, even lately, Rang tells us that he has seen them big as a +hogshead; and Peron has seen them quite as large in the South Sea. The +creature rolled, and snorted in the rolling wave, with a noise to +terrify, to astonish, all meaner creatures. His arms, six or seven +feet in length, turning, twisting, writhing, and grasping in every +direction, imitated some furious pantomime, some fantastic dance of at +once furious and eccentric serpents. + +After these matter of fact statements, it seems to me, that we should +not be quite so incredulous, not quite so scornful, when we read the +accounts of the old voyagers; we should not curl the lip _quite_ so +insolently as we read, in Denis de Montford, that he saw a monstrous +Poulpe, grasp, with his enormous arms, lash, scourge, smite, stupefy +with his electric lashes a fierce and strong mastiff which, in spite +of all his efforts, and his terrible howlings, had to succumb, did +succumb, _did_ die in that giant and terrible embrace. + +The Poulpe, that terrible and living steam machine, can accumulate +such incalculable force and elasticity, that, as d'Orbigny tells us +(see his article Cephal.) it can leap from the sea to the deck of a +ship. This at once relieves our old voyagers from the charge so often +and so lightly made against them, of exaggeration and mere romance. +They told us, and it now seems quite truly told us, that they came +athwart a gigantic Poulpe that leaped inboard, twining its prodigious +arms around masts and shrouds; and the monstrous creature would have +had possession of the craft, and would have devoured all hands, but +that these latter cut away its arms with their axes, as they would +have cut away masts in a case of impending wreck, and the mutilated +but still threatening creature fell into the sea. + +Some have given this creature credit for arms of sixty feet in length; +and others have reported that while cruising in the North seas, they +fell in with the Kraken, a monstrous creature, half a league in +circumference, no doubt, one of our terrible _Poulpes_, able to +embrace, stupefy, and devour, a whale a hundred feet long. + +The prolonged existence of these monsters, would have endangered +Nature herself, would have absorbed our very globe. But, on the one +hand, gigantic birds (perhaps, for instance, the _Epiornis_) made war +upon them; and on the other hand the exhausted earth destroyed the +monster by cutting off its supply of alimentation. + +Thank Heaven, our existing Poulpes are somewhat less terrible. Their +elegant species of the present day, the Argonaut, that graceful +swimmer in its wavy shell, the Calmar, good sailor, if ever there was +one, and the handsome Seiche, blue-eyed, and beautiful to look upon, +traverse the Ocean, hither and thither, annoying nothing but the small +creatures that they need for their support. + +In them we see exhibited the first approach to the vertebral bone; +they display, too, a perfect rainbow of changing colors, that come and +go--shine, fade, dazzle and die. We may quite fairly call them the +Chameleons of the sea. They have the exquisite perfume, ambergris, +which the whale only owes to the countless multitudes of Seiches which +it has absorbed. And the porpoises, too, make an enormous destruction +of them. Your Seiches are very gregarious. About the month of May, +they seek the coast to deposit their eggs, and the Porpoises await +them there, sure of a splendid banquet. And your Porpoise is somewhat +of a _gourmet_ though sufficiently _gourmand_; he feeds delicately, +though we cannot deny that he feeds largely. The head and the eight +arms are his tid-bits, tender and easy of digestion; the rest of the +carcass they may have who come for it. Tens of thousands of these +mutilated Seiches you find upon the coast at Royan; and there, too, +you will see the Porpoises making their mighty bounds when in chase of +their coveted prey, the Seiches, or in bacchanal enjoyment and +revelling when the prey has been taken and the banquet is over. + +Notwithstanding the strange, not to say grotesque, appearance of its +beak, the Seiche is decidedly an interesting creature. All the various +shades of the most brilliant and various rainbow, come and go, die and +reappear on his transparent skin, according to the play of the light +as he turns now hither and now thither, and as he dies his azure eyes +look upon you with an expression, now flashing and now fading, which +seems to rebuke you for your cruelty in killing, or to express a +regret at parting with life. + +The general decrease of that class, so immensely important in the past +ages, is less remarkable as to the navigators (Seiches, &c.) than in +the Poulpe, properly so called, the sad frequenter of our shores. It +has not the same firmness as the Seiche, strengthened as the latter is +by an interior bone, and it has not, like the Argonaut, a resisting +exterior, a shell to protect the most vulnerable organs. Neither has +it the kind of sail which aids its navigation and spares it the labor +of _rowing_. It paddles about along our shores, hugging the shore +like some timid coaster. And its conscious inferiority teaches it +habits of treachery; it is at once timid and bold--lying in ambush +until quite sure that it can devour without the preliminary necessity +of a fight. Lying in wait in some rocky crevice, it awaits its prey. +That having passed in unsuspicious security, your Poulpe throws out +the terrible lashes, the weaker of the prey are devoured, the stronger +get loose and escape. A man when swimming, if thus attacked, finds no +difficulty in mastering his at once insolent and imbecile assailant. +Disgusted, but not alarmed, he handles the creature without gloves, +crushes, collapses him, and feels actually vexed with himself for +having even for an instant been provoked by an enemy so contemptible. +"Bah!" one is tempted to exclaim, on having so easily vanquished such +a thing--"Bah! You came swelling, blowing, threatening, and after all +you prove to be only a sham, a mask rather than a being. Without +fixity, without substance, a blown-up bladder, now collapsed, to be +to-morrow a mere drop, a nameless portion of the dark blue waters of +the Sea." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +CRUSTACÆ--BATTLE AND INTRIGUE. + + +If, from some rich collection of armor, of the middle ages, +immediately after examining the mighty masses of iron in which our +knights of old oppressed and half stifled themselves, we go to the +Museum of Natural History, and examine the armor of the Crustacæ, we +shall actually feel something very like contempt for our human skill. +The former are a mere masquerade of absurd disguises, that seem +especially designed for encumbering their warlike wearers, and +rendering them impotent. But these latter, especially the armor of the +terrible _Decapodes_, the ten-footed warriors of the waters, are so +marvellously armed that had they but the stature and bulk of our human +warriors, none of us could dare even to look upon them. The _veni +vidi_ of Cæsar, would be eternally followed by his soon-ended _Vici_; +they would not need to seize, or to strike; their very aspect would +thrill, magnetise--utterly stupefy and subdue us. + +There they are, all ready for the fight, armed at all points. Within +that terrible arsenal, offensive and defensive, how lightly, yet how +strongly are they armed. There are the strong nippers, mandibles, +ready to craunch through iron itself, and the cuirasses, furnished +with the thousand darts, every one of which cries aloud to the foe +_Noli me tangere_. We ought to be very thankful to Nature, that has +made them thus diminutive. If only the stature and bulk of man were +given to them, who, who, and by what means, could engage with them? +Fire arms would be in vain; the Elephant, vast and mighty, and +intelligent as he is, would have to hide; the fierce Tiger, with +lashing tail, blood-shotten eyes and fatal paw, would seek shelter on +the topmost branches of the tallest trees, and the trice solid hide of +the Rhinoceros, would no longer be invulnerable. + +We perceive at once that the interior agent, the motive power of that +machine, centralized within an almost invariable convex, has, even +from that single peculiarity, a perfectly enormous force. The slender +and delicate elegance of man, his longitudinal figure, divided into +three parts, with four great and diverging appendages, distant, all, +from his centre, make him, whatever we may say to the contrary, an +essentially weak animal. In those armors of the old knights, in the +great, telegraphic arms, and in the heavy, pendant legs, we, at a +glance, see, and sadden, as we see, the unsteady, uncentralized +creature; halting and staggering, that the slightest collision will +beat to the earth. In the crustacæ, on the contrary, the appendages +are at once so firmly, so neatly, and so closely, conjoined to the +short, rounded, and compacted body, that every blow, every touch, +every grasp, has the whole weight, and the whole force and impetus of +the entire mass. Even to the extremity of its claws, every inch is +instinct with nervous energy, mighty with the whole physical force. + +It has two brain systems, head and body; but to concentrate its power +thus, it must have no neck; head and body must be undivided, a dual +unity. Marvellous, perfectly marvellous, simplification! The head +combines eyes, feelers, claws and jaws. When the quick eye has +discerned the enemy, or the prey, the feelers touch, the claws grasp, +the jaws crush, and, immediately behind them, the stomach, which is +itself furnished with a strong crushing machinery, triturates and +digests whatever enters it. In an instant the prey is seized, crushed, +digested, and disappears. + +In this creature, every organ is superior. + +The eyes can discern, both in front, and in rear. Convexed, exterior, +and _en facettes_, they can, at a glance, sweep almost the entire +horizon. + +The antennæ, the feelers, organs of touch and trial, of warning and of +guiding, have the sense of touch at their extremities, of hearing and +of scent, at their base. An immense advantage, such as we do not +possess. How would it be if the human hand could hear and smell? How +rapid and concentrated would then be our power of observation. Divided +among three senses, each of which works independently of the other, +our impressions are, for that very reason, very often inexact or +evanescent. + +Of the ten feet of the Decapodes, six are hands, hard, griping +pincers, and, moreover, are, at their extremeties, organs of +respiration. And in this last particular our singularly armed warrior, +by a quite revolutionary expedient, solves the problem which so much +embarrassed our poor mollusc; how to breathe, in spite of the shell. +To this he calmly replies: "I breathe through hand and foot. This +great, this fatal difficulty of breathing, which would so surely +overcome me, I overcome by the very same weapon with which I smite, +the very same implement by which I seize and masticate my food." + +The chief and most potent enemies of the Crustacæ, are the tempest and +the rock. Little in the deep sea, they almost constantly lurk along +shore in waiting for their prey. Often, as they lurk there waiting for +the oyster to open and furnish them with a breakfast, a hard gale +drives them from their ambush, and then their armor becomes their +fatality. Hard, and destitute of elasticity, it receives the full and +unmitigated shock of every collision; dashed upon the rocks, they +leave it, if alive, only with broken weapons and rent armor. Happily +for them, they, like the Oursin, can replace an organ, lost or +mutilated. So well do they know that strange power, that they +voluntarily shake off a claw, if confined by it. It would seem that +Nature especially favors servants so useful. To counterbalance the +infinite fecundity of other species, the crustacæ have an infinite +power of absorption. And they are everywhere; on every coast; +ubiquitous as the seas themselves. The Vultures, and other carrion +birds, share with the crustacæ the essential office of health +preservers. Let some large animal die, and, on the instant, the bird +above, and the crab below and within, are at work to prevent it from +polluting the atmosphere. + +The Talitre, that small and skipping crab that we might almost mistake +for an insect, burrows in the sands of the sandy shores. Let a tempest +drive a quantity of Medusæ or other such prey upon the beach, and you +will immediately see the sands all in motion, and myriads of crabs +swarming, leaping, hungry, and apparently determined to clear away the +spoil before the next flood tide. + +Large, robust, and full of wiles, the great crabs are a very combative +race. So highly are they gifted with the instinct of war that they +even resort to noise in order to intimidate their enemies; advancing +to the fight they clash their claws together with a noise like that +of castanettes. Yet, they are very prudent when they have to do with a +stronger enemy. I remember to have watched them from the top of a high +rock, when the tide was out. But, high above them as I was, they +perceived that they were watched, and speedily beat a retreat; the +warriors hurrying sidelong, as is their wont, into their secure +ambush. They resemble Achilles far less than Hannibal. When they feel +that they are the stronger, they will attack both the living and the +dead, and the helplessly wounded man may well dread them. It is +related that, on some desert isle, several of Drake's sailors were +attacked and devoured by these greedy creatures. + +No living creature can fight them with equal weapons. The gigantic +Poulpe who should enlace the smallest of the crab family, would do so +at the risk of losing his antennæ, and the greediest of fish would not +venture to swallow so hard a morsel. + +When the Crustaceæ are large they are the tyrants and the terror of +both land and sea; their impregnable armor enables them to attack +everything. They would multiply to such an excess as to disturb the +balance of living creatures, but that their armour itself is their +great peril and destroyer. Hard and inelastic, it will not yield to +the increasing growth of the animal and thus becomes its prison +always, and at certain periods its torture. + +To find, despite this solid wall, the means of breathing, it is +obliged to place the organ of respiration in that very organ, the +claw, which it most frequently loses. To allow for the growth of its +interior substance, it is obliged--most perilous obligation!--to +submit that the hard cuirass shell shall at times be discarded; that +the creature shall have its seasons of _moulting_; that the eyes, and +the claws, and the tentacles, which supply the place of lungs shall +suffer with all the rest. + +A strange and pitiful sight it is to see the Lobster writhing, +twisting, struggling, to get out of its too confining armor. So +violent is the struggle that he sometimes actually casts off his +claws. Then he remains soft, weak, exhausted. In two or three days a +raw shell covers the naked body; but the Crab does not so easily +repair damages; it takes him much longer to renew his armor, and +during that time he is the victim of all that previously were his +unspared and unpitied prey. Even handed justice now becomes terrible +to him. The victims now have their revenge; the strong is subjected to +the law of the weak; falls, as a species, to their level, and pays +full share in the great balance between Life and Death. + +If one died but once in this world, there would be less of sadness, +but every living thing must partially die daily; daily suffer +moulting, that partial death which is essential to the continuance of +life. Hence, a weakness and a melancholy to which we do not readily +confess. But what is to be done? The bird in its moulting time is sad +and silent; still more sad is the poor snake when it casts its skin. +We, also, in every month, every day, every instant, are parting with +portions of our living frame, but as gently as constantly, and only +feel weakened, in those moments of dreamy melancholy, when the vital +flame is weakened, that it may become stronger and more vivid. + +How far more terrible it must be for the creature whose whole external +frame work must be rent asunder and cast off. It is weak, timorous, +crushed;--at the mercy of the first comer. + +There are crustacæ of the fresh water that must thus partially die a +score of times in every two months. Others (the crustacean suckers) +succumb to this terrible operation, are unable to renew their armor, +and lose all power. So to speak, they resign their piratical +commission, and, coward-like, take shelter in the viscera of the +larger animals, which, in spite of themselves, have to forage for them +and to feed them. + +The insect in its Chrysalis seems utterly to forget itself, not only +does it not suffer, but it even seems to enjoy that semblance of +death, that unconscious life, which the infant enjoys in its warm +cradle. But the crustacæ, in their moulting time, see themselves and +feel themselves as they are, suddenly hurled from energetic and +terrible life and power to the most complete impotency. They are +alarmed, helpless, lost, and can but creep under some sheltering +stone, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing but the terror +of the coming foe and the unpitied death. Never having encountered +terrible foe, or even serious obstacle, and relieved from all +necessity of industry by their potent armor, they no sooner lose that +than they find themselves utterly without resource. Each might protect +the other, but they are all defenceless at the same time. Yet it is +said that, in certain species, the male does strive to protect the +female, and that if we take one we take both. + +That terrible necessity of moulting, and the eager research of man, +more and more lord of the shores, and the extinction of the old +species that afforded them such abounding alimentation, have +necessarily kept down the increase of the crustaceæ. Even the Poulpe +which, being good for nothing, is neither hunted after nor eaten, has +considerably decreased in number. How much more so, then, the +crustaceæ whose flesh is so excellent and so coveted by all creatures. +They actually seem to be aware of this. The weaker among them resort +to the grossest little rogueries to protect themselves; they are +ingenious, intriguing. This latter epithet is the true one; they +really resemble intriguers who, without visible means, contrive to +support themselves upon the means of others. A kind of bastards, +neither quite fish, nor quite flesh, they make increment alike of the +living, the dying and the dead; occasionally even of land animals. + +The Oxystome makes himself a kind of miser, and thieves by night; the +Birgus at nightfall quits the sea on a marauding expedition, and, for +want of better, even ascends the cocoa tree and eats the fruit. The +Dromios disguise themselves, and Bernard the Hermit, unable to harden +his exterior, seizes a Mollusc, devours the body, and clothes himself +in the shell. Thus fitted out, he prowls at evening in search of food, +and we detect the furtive pilgrim by the noise which he cannot avoid +making as he halts and staggers along, under the load of his ill +acquired and ill fitting armor. + +Others, at most times, but especially in the winter, seek the land, +and burrow. Perhaps they would change their nature altogether and +become insects, were the sea not so dear to them. As once in every +year the twelve tribes of Israel were wont to wend their way to +Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Tabernacles, there are certain +shores to which these faithful children of the sea repair to pay her +their homage and to consign to her tender care their eggs, thus +recommending their offspring to her who nursed their ancestry. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE FISH. + + +It was inevitable that the free element, the Sea, should, sooner or +later, produce a creature like unto herself, eminently free, +undulating and fluid, gliding like the wave, but with a marvellous +mobility founded on an interior miracle greater still, on an internal +organization at once delicate and strong, and very elastic, such as no +creature had previously ever approached to. + +The Mollusc, crawling on its belly, was the poor serf of the glebe, +and the Poulpe, with all his swelling and threatening pride, swimming +badly and unable to walk or crawl at all, was still more completely +the serf of chance. The warlike crustaceæ, by turns so high and so +low, alternately the terror and derision of all, were at times the +slave, the prey of even the weakest creatures. + +Great and terrible servitudes those; how were they to be remedied? + +Strength is the very soul of liberty. From the very beginning, Life +seems gradually but confusedly to have sought the creation of a +central axis which should give the creature unity, and enormously +increase its strength of motion. The rayed family and the molluscs +exhibit a presentiment, a partial sketch of it, but they were too much +led away by the insoluble problem of the exterior defence. The +covering, always the covering, was that which constantly occupied the +attention of these poor beings. As to that one point, they produced +masterpieces; the thorny ball of the Oursin, the shell at once open +and closed of the Haliotide, and, finally, the armors of jointed +pieces of the Crustaceæ, are the very perfection of armor at once +defensive and terribly offensive. What more could be required? It +would seem, _nothing_. + +_Nothing?_ Say, rather, everything. Let us have a creature who shall +trust entirely to motion, a creature of freedom and audacity, that +shall look down upon all these creatures as infirm, or miserably slow; +a creature that shall consider the envelope as a merely secondary +matter, and concentrate his whole strength within himself. + +The crustaceæ shroud themselves, as it were, in an exterior skeleton. +The fish has his skeleton within, to which nerves, muscles, and all +organs are attached. + +This seems a fanciful invention, and one quite contrary to good sense; +to place the hard and the solid beneath the thick covering of the +soft! To place the bone, so useful without, precisely where it seems +it must be so useless! The crustaceæ must needs have laughed in +derision when they first saw the short, thick, soft fish of the Indian +Ocean, for instance, without defensive armor, having no strength save +inwardly, protected only by its oily fluidity, by the exuberant mucus +that surrounds it, and which by degrees consolidates into elastic +scales, a slight cuirass, which ever yielding, never yields entirely. + +It was a revolution comparable to that of Gustavus Adolphus, when he +relieved his soldiery of their heavy iron armor, and covered their +breasts only with the at once stout and yielding buff leather. A late +revolution, but a wise one. + +Our fish, being no longer confined like the crab or lobster, +imprisoned in armor, is at the same time relieved from the cruel +condition inseparable from that armor, the _moulting_, with its +attendant danger, weakness, struggle, and enormously wasteful +expenditure of strength. Like the superior animals and man, he moults +slowly. He economises and hoards up strength, and creates for himself +the treasure of a powerful nervous system, with numerous telegraphic +threads that connect spine and brain. Even when the bone is soft or +absent, and the fish preserves its embryonic appearance, he has +nevertheless his great harmony in that abundant provision of nervous +threads. + +We do not find in the fish the elegant weakness of the reptile and the +insect, so slender that in those parts one can cut through them as +through a thread; his segments are within, and well protected. He uses +them for contractile power, but does not, as the less perfect reptile +and insect do, expose them to external injury. + +Like the crustaceæ, the fish prefers strength to beauty, and for this +end has no neck; head and trunk form one mass. Admirable principle of +strength, which enables him, in cleaving through so yielding an +element as water, to strike, at will, with a thousand fold more force +than is necessary, and then his motion is as the flight of an arrow or +the flash of lightning! + +The interior bone, single in the Seiche, is in the fish at once one +and multiple; one for force of unity, multiple for elasticity, +enabling the muscles alternately to contract and expand, and thus +create swift motion. Marvellous, really marvellous is that formation +of the fish, so solid without and contractile within, that inward keel +to which are attached the motor muscles which work with an alternating +shock. Exteriorly, he exposes only his auxiliary oars, short fins +which are but little in danger, being strong, slippery, and sharp to +wound, or to scrape. How superior in all this is the fish, to the +Poulpe and the Medusa, which present to all comers soft flesh, a +tempting morsel for the crustaceæ or the porpoise. + +This true son of the water, gliding and mobile as his mother, glides +by means of his mucus, cleaves with his head, impelled by his +contractile muscles, and finally, with his strong fins rows and +steers. + +The least of these powers would suffice, but he unites them all; a +perfect model and absolute type of swift motion. + +Even the bird is less mobile, seeing that he has to perch. He is fixed +for the night, but the fish, never; even asleep, he still floats. + +So extremely mobile, he at the same time is in the highest degree +strong and lively. Wherever there is water, there is the fish: he is +the universal creature of the globe. In the loftiest lakes of Asia and +of the Cordilleras, where the atmosphere is so rarefied that no other +creature can endure it, the fish lives and thrives. It is the red fish +of the Gudgeon species, which thus looks down upon all the earth. In +like manner, in the great depths, beneath the most enormous weights, +live the Herring and the Cod. Forbes, who divides them into ten +superposed beds or stages, finds them all inhabited, and in the lowest +of all, supposed to be so dark, he finds a fish provided with eyes so +admirable that he finds sufficient light in that which seems to us the +uttermost darkness of night. + +There is yet another privilege of the fish. Many species, as Salmon, +Shad, Eels, Sturgeon, &c., can live equally in fresh water or sea +water, and regularly migrate from one to the other. Many families of +fish include both sea fish and fresh water fish, as for instance, the +Thornback. + +Nevertheless, peculiar degrees of heat, peculiar food, and peculiar +habits, seem to confine them within certain limits in the seas, free +as that element is. The warm seas are as a confining wall beyond which +the polar species cannot pass; and on the other hand, the fish of the +warm seas are stopped by the cold currents at the Cape of Good Hope. +We know of only two or three species that can be properly called +cosmopolitan. Few of them frequent the open sea; most of them hug the +shore, and have favorite shores to frequent. Those of the United +States are not those of Europe. Then, too, fish have peculiarities of +taste which attach them to certain localities, though they do not +actually confine them there. The Thornback grovels in the mud, Soles +in sandy bottoms, the Bullhead loves the high bottoms, and the Sea Eel +the rocks. The Scorpene, or flying fish, swims and flies by turns; +when pursued by fish, she darts from the water, and for some distance +sustains herself in the air; and when pursued by birds she drops back +into the water. + +The popular phrase, "As happy as a fish in water," is founded on a +truth. In fine weather he floats at his ease, enabled as he is to rise +or sink at pleasure, to make himself a balloon more or less filled +with air, and therefore lighter or heavier. He moves in peace, rocked +and caressed by the wave, and, if he so chooses, even sleeps as he +floats. He is at once surrounded and isolated by the unctuous +substance which renders his skin and his scales slippery and +impenetrable by the water. His temperature varies but little and is +neither too hot nor too cold. What a difference between a life so +convenient, and that which is allotted to us dwellers upon the land; +where at every step we meet with asperities and obstacles, which +fatigue and exhaust us as we toil up or down our hills and mountains! +The atmosphere varies, and often most cruelly, with our various +seasons. For days and nights together, the cold rains pour pitilessly +down, penetrating us; at times frozen, and piercing us with its sharp +crystal points. + +The felicity and fullness of life of the fish is shown at the Tropics +by the splendor of his colors, and at the North by the swiftness of +his motion. In Oceania and the Indian Sea they rove and sport in the +oddest forms and colors, taking their pleasure among the corals, and +living flowers. Our fish, of the temperate and cold seas, are potent +rowers; thorough sailors. Their slender and elongated figures give +them an arrowy swiftness and grace of movement, which might serve as +ensample to our ship builders. Some of them have as many as ten fins +which serve them, at will, as sails or oars, and may be kept wide +spread or close-reefed. Their tail, that marvellous rudder, is also +the principal oar. The best swimmers have it forked, the entire spine +ends there and which contracting its muscles gives the fish his swift +motion. The Thornback has two immense fins, two great wings to cleave +the waves. His long, supple, and slender tail is a weapon with which +to lash and divide the waters. So slender and displacing so little +water, this fish has no need of the air bladder which supports the +thicker fish. Thus each has the peculiar provisions that fit it for +its peculiar locality and surroundings. The Sole is oval and flat that +it may glide in the sand, the Eel long and slender that it may glide +through the mud, and the Lophies, that they may cling to the rocks, +have hand like fins that remind one rather of frogs than fish. + +Sight is the great sense of the bird; scent is that of the fish. The +Hawk, from above the clouds, pierces, with his glance, the deep space +and marks the scarcely visible prey below; in like manner the Shark, +from the depths of the water, scents his tempting prey, and darts +upward upon it. Those that, like the Sturgeon, rummage the mud for +food have exquisite touch. In the watery world half darkened, and +having only uncertain and delusive lights, scent, and, in some cases, +touch, must be relied on. The Shark, the Thornback and the Cod, with +his great eyes, see badly, but have an exquisite sense of scent. The +Thornback has that sense in such excess that he is provided with a +veil for the express purpose of deadening it at will, when it probably +affects his brain unpleasantly. To this powerful means of chasing +their prey, we must add admirable teeth, sometimes like those of a +saw. Some species have several rows of them, lining the mouth, the +palate, the throat, and even the tongue. These teeth being so fine +are, therefore, fragile; and behind, therefore, are others ready to +replace them if they break. + +At the commencement of this second book, we said that it was necessary +that the sea should produce these terrible and mighty destroyers to +combat her own too great fecundity. Death by persevering excision and +bleedings relieved her of a plethora which, otherwise, would have +destroyed her. Against that alarming torrent of production which we +have instanced in the case of the Herring and the Cod, those frightful +multiplying machines which would have choked up the ocean and +desolated the earth, she defends herself by the machine of Death, the +armed swimmer, the fierce and voracious fish. Great, splendid, +impressive spectacle! The universal combat between Death and Life, +which we witness upon the land, fades into insignificance when we +compare it to that which is going on in the depths of the sea. There, +its surpassing grandeur, at first, almost alarms us, but when we +examine more closely we see that all is harmonious and in marvellous +equilibrium. That fury is necessary; that dazzlingly rapid exchange of +substance, that prodigality of slaughter, are safety. Nothing of +sadness, but a wild fierce joy seems to reign in all this. In this +opposition in the sea of two forces, that seem so inevitably +destructive of each other, the sea finds her marvellous health, her +incomparable purity, and a beauty at once sublime and terrible. She +triumphs alike in the living and in the dead, giving to them and +receiving from them the electricity, the light which beams, flashes, +sparkles everywhere, even in the long, dark, polar night. + +What is melancholy in the sea is not her carelessness to multiply +death, but her impotence to reconcile progress with the excess of +movement. + +She is a hundred times, a thousand times richer, and more rapidly +fecund than the earth. She even builds up for earth. The increase of +the land, as we have seen in the case of the Corals, is given by the +sea; the sea is no other than the parturient and laboring womb of the +globe. Her sole obstacle is in the rapidity of her births; her +inferiority appears in the difficulty, which, so rich in generation, +she finds in organizing Love. It is melancholy to reflect that the +myriads upon myriads of the inhabitants of the sea have only a vague, +elementary, and imperfect, Love. Those vast tribes that, each in its +turn, ascend and go in pilgrimage towards pleasure and light, give in +floods the best of themselves, their very life, to blind and unknown +chance. They love, and they will never know the beloved creature in +which their dream, their desire, was incarnated; they produce +multitudes, but never know their posterity. A few, a very few of the +most active, warlike, and cruel species love after our human manner. +Those terrific monsters, the Shark and his female, are obliged to +approach each other. Nature has imposed upon them the peril of +embracing. A terrible and suspicious embrace. Habitually they devour, +eagerly and blindly, everything that comes in their path--animals, +wood, stone, iron--anything, but in their fierce love, they restrain +their hunger. They approach each other with their sawlike and fatal +teeth, and the female intrepidly allows the male to seize her with +his, and thus fastened together, they sometimes roll furiously about +for weeks, unwilling to separate, even though famishing, and +invincible in their fierce embrace, even by the fiercer tempest. + +It is affirmed that even after they have separated, they lovingly +pursue each other, the faithful male following his mate till the birth +of his heir presumptive, the sole fruit of that marriage, and never, +never devours him, but follows and watches over him. In fact, in case +of peril to the sharkling, the excellent farther takes him into his +vast throat, but to shelter, not digest him. + +If the life of the sea has a dream, a wish, a confused desire, it is +that of fixity. The violent and tyrannical embrace of the Shark, the +fury of his union with the female give us an idea of a perfectly +desperate love. Who knows if in other species, gentler and better +fitted for families, who knows if this impotence of union, this +eternal fluctuation of an objectless voyage, is not a cause of +sadness? These children of the sea become owners of the land. Many of +them ascend the rivers amorous with the fresh water, which they find +so poor and possessed of so little nutriment, that they may deposit +there, far from the raging waves, the hope of their posterity. At the +very least they approach the shore in search of some sinuous and land +locked creek. At this time they even become industrious, and with +sand, mud, and grass endeavor to make little nests. A touching effort! +They have none of the implements of the insect, that marvel of animal +industry. They are far more destitute than the bird. By sheer dint of +perseverance, without hands, or claws, or beak, and solely with their +poor bodies, they yet pass and repass over it till they have pressed +it into a sufficient cohesion, as Coste informs us in his description +of the Sticklebacks. And what obstacles still await them! The female, +blind and greedy, threatens the eggs, the male will not quit them, but +guards and protects them, more motherly than the mother herself. This +instinct is found in several species, especially in the humblest, the +Gobies, a small fish, unfit for food, held in such contempt that if, +by chance, caught, it is thrown back again to the water. Well, this +lowest of the low is a tender father. Weak, small, destitute as he is, +he, nevertheless, is the ingenious architect and laborious workman of +the nest, and constructs it unaided, save by his tenderness and his +strong will. + +It moves one to pitying reverie, to perceive that such an effort of +the heart is arrested at the first effort of art, and by the fatality +of the world, in which its nature detains it. We feel that that world +of waters is not all sufficient for itself. + +Great mother that hath commenced life, thou canst not perfect it; +allow thy daughter, the Earth, to continue the work. You see it, even +in your bosom; your children think of Earth and long for its fixity; +they approach her, offer her their homage. + +It is for thee still to commence the series of new beings, by an +unexpected prodigy, a grandiose rough draft of the warm amorous life, +of blood, of milk, of tenderness which will have its development in +the terrestrial races. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE WHALE. + + +"The fisherman belated at night in the North Sea," says Milton, "saw +an isle, a shoal, which, like the back of an enormous mountain, lay +upon the water, and in that isle or shoal he fastened his anchor. The +isle fled and carried him away. That isle was Leviathan." + +An error only too natural. D'Urmont Durville was similarly though not +so fatally deceived. He saw at a distance what seemed a bank with +breakers and eddies all around it, and certain patches upon it looked +like rocks. Above and around this seeming bank the swallow and the +stormy petrel raced and sported. The bank looked venerably grey, +covered as it was with shells and madrepores. But the mighty mass +suddenly moved, and two enormous columns of water which it threw high +into the air, revealed the awakened Whale. + +The inhabitant of another planet who should descend towards ours in a +balloon and survey it from a vast height would say to himself, "The +only creatures that I can discover there are from one hundred to two +hundred feet long, their arms are only twenty feet long, but their +superb tail, thirty feet, magnificently beats the Sea, and enables +them to advance with a speed and a majestic ease which make it very +evident that they are the sovereigns of that planet." + +And by and bye he would add: "It is a great pity that the solid part +of that globe should be deserted, or at best peopled only by creatures +so small that they are invisible. The sea alone is inhabited and by a +kind and gentle race. Here the family is held in honor, the mother +nurses and suckles her young ones with tenderness, and although her +arms are very short she contrives during the raging of the tempest to +protect her little one by pressing it to her vast body." + +Whales are given to companionship. Formerly they were seen sailing +along not only in pairs, but occasionally in large families of ten or +twelve in the solitary seas. Nothing exceeded the grandeur of those +vast and living fleets, sometimes lighted up by their own +phosphorescence, and throwing to the height of thirty or forty feet in +the Polar seas columns of water which smoked as it rose. They would +approach a vessel, peaceably and in evident curiosity; looking upon +her as some specimen of a new and strange species of fish; and they +sported around and welcomed the visitor. In their joy they raised +themselves half upright and then fell down again with a huge noise, +making a boiling gulf as they sank. Their innocent familiarity went so +far that they sometimes touched the ship or her boats. An imprudent +confidence which was most cruelly deceived! In less than a century, +the great species of the Whale have almost disappeared. + +Their manners and their organization are those of our herbivora. Like +our ruminating animals they have a succession of stomachs where their +nourishment is elaborated; they need no teeth and have none. They +easily graze the living prairies of the sea, I mean the gigantic, +soft, and gelatinous, fucus, the beds of infusoriæ, the banks of the +imperceptible atoms. For such aliments the chase is not necessary. +Having no occasion for war, they have no necessity for the sawlike +teeth or the frightful jaws of the Shark and other destructive +creatures. Boitard tells us that they never pursue. Their food is +borne to them on every wave. Innocent and peaceable, they engulf a +world of scarcely organized creatures which die ere they lived, and +pass unconsciously into the crucible of universal change. + +Not the slightest connection between this gentle race of mammiferæ, +which, like our own, have milk and red blood, and the monsters of an +earlier age,--horrible abortions of the primitive mud! The Whale, of +far more recent origin, found a purified water, a free Sea, and a +peaceful globe. + +He had finished, the Globe had, his old discordant dream of +lizard-fishes, and flying dragons, the frightful reign of the reptile; +he had got out of the sinister fogs and mists into the lovely dawn of +harmonious conceptions. Our carnivorous creatures were not yet in +existence. There was a brief time (a hundred thousand years, perhaps,) +of great gentleness and innocence, when the Opossum and other pouched +animals were on the earth; excellent creatures, that tenderly loved +their families, that carried their young, and, in case of the fatigue +or danger of those little creatures, sheltered them in their pouches. +In the Sea appeared vast and gentle giants. + +The milk of the sea, its superabundant oil, its warm animalized mucus, +saturated with a marvellous power tending to life, swelling at length +into those gigantic creatures, those spoilt children of nature which +she endowed with an incomparable strength, and with the yet greater +gift of the beautiful and warm red blood, which now for the first time +appeared. + +That is the true flower of the world. All the pale and cold blooded +creation is languid and seemingly heartless, when compared with the +generous and exulting life which boils with anger or love in the rich +purple. + +The strength of the superior creation, its charm, its beauty, reside +in that blood. With it commenced a new youth in nature, a flame of +desire, of love, and the love of family and race; to be completed and +crowned in man by divine Pity. + +But with this magnificent gift of red blood, the nervous sensibility +was enormously increased; the being became more vulnerable, more +sensitive alike to pleasure and to pain. The Whale having scarcely any +sense of scent or hearing, every thing in his organization is +favorable to the sense of touch. The thick blubber which so well +protects him from the cold, does not at all guard him against hurts. +His finely organized skin of six tissues shudders and vibrates in them +all at every blow, and their papillæ are most delicate instruments of +touch. And all this is animated and made vivid by rich, red blood, +which, even allowing for difference of bulk, is infinitely more +abundant than that of the terrestrial mammiferæ. The Whale, when +wounded, ensanguines the ocean to a great distance; the blood that we +have in drops, is lavished upon him in torrents. + +The female is pregnant nine months. Her milk is sweetish and warm, +like that of the human female. But as she has always to breast the +wave, her front mammæ, if placed on the chest, would be exposed to all +shocks; they are, therefore, placed a little lower on the belly. Here +the young one is sheltered and safe from the shock of the wave, which +is already broken, ere it reaches him. The form, inherent to such a +life, contracts the mother, at the waist and deprives her of that +adorable grace of woman, that beauty of settled and harmonious life, +where all is tenderness. But the Whale, the great woman of the sea, +however tender she may be, is forced to conform, in every thing, to +her continual battle with the waves. For the rest, beneath that +strange uncouth disguise, the organization, and the sensitiveness, are +the same; fish above, the Whale is woman beneath. She is infinitely +timid, too; the mere flight of a bird will sometimes terrify her so +much that she dives so violently as to hurt herself by striking the +bottom. + +Love with the Whale being subject to difficult condition requires a +profoundly peaceful place. Like a noble elephant, who fears profane +eyes, the Whales love only the desert. Their meeting place for pairing +is towards the poles, in the solitary bays of Greenland, among the +fogs of Behring, and, also, no doubt, in the warm sea which is known +to exist close to the pole itself. A solitude they must have to mate +in, be it arctic or antarctic. + +Will that warm sea be found again? It is only to be reached by +traversing the horrid defiles which open, close, and change, with +every succeeding year, as though to prevent the return. The Whale, it +is believed, pass under the ice from one sea to the other; a bold and +perilous journey by that dark road. Compelled to rise to breathe every +quarter of an hour, though they have reserves of air which will last +them a little longer, they are much endangered as they pass through +that enormous crust with only here and there a breathing hole. If one +of these cannot be reached in due time, the ice is so thick and solid +every where else, that no strength of the Whale could break through +it; and he would be as helplessly drowned as Leander in the +Hellespont. But the Whales know nothing about the fate of Leander; so +they boldly venture, and for the most part pass safely. + +The solitude is great, it is a strange scene of death and silence for +this festival of ardent and passionate life. A white Bear, a Seal, or, +perhaps, a blue Fox, respectful and prudent, looks on from a distance. +Fantastically brilliant chandeliers and mirrors are not wanting. +Bluish crystals, huge and dazzling peaks of ice, and masses of virgin +snow, are all around. + +What renders this Elephantine Hymen the more interesting, is, that it +is one of express consent. They have not the tyrannous weapons of the +Shark by which he subdues his female, for on the contrary their +slippery skins separate them. In their struggle to overcome this +desperate obstacle to their happiness, one might suppose them to be +fighting. The whale-men assert that they have seen this strange +spectacle. The couples in their burning transports rear themselves +upright like two vast towers, and endeavor to embrace with their short +arms. They fall down again with an immense crash; and Bear and Man +alike retreat, astounded by the deafening sobs of the vast creatures. + +The solution is unknown; those explanations, which have been given, +are simply absurd. What is certain is, that, whether in the act of +love or of suckling, or of defence, the unfortunate Whale suffers +under the double oppression of its weight and its difficulty of +breathing. She can only breathe with her head above water; if she +remain below she will be choked. Is the Whale, therefore, a +terrestrial animal? Not so. If by chance she be stranded on the coast, +the enormous weight of her flesh and blubber overwhelms her respiring +organs and she is strangled. + +Placed wholly in the only element in which she can respire, she is +asphyxiated just as surely as if kept beyond a certain space of time +wholly beneath the water. + +Let us speak plainly. This vast mammiferous giant is an incomplete +creature, the first poetic offspring of creative power, which first +contemplates the sublime and then reverts to the possible and the +durable. The admirable animal was well provided as to size, strength, +warm blood, sweet milk, and good disposition. It needed nothing but +the means of living. It was made without respect to the general +proportions of this globe, without respect to the imperative law of +weight. In spite of his enormous bones, beneath, his gigantic sides +were not strong enough to keep his chest sufficiently expanded and +free. Escaping from his enemy, the water, he found another enemy in +the land, and his mighty lungs were overwhelmed, and collapsed. His +magnificent blowing apertures throwing up columns of water thirty feet +into the air, are, in themselves, proofs of an organization infantine +and rude. In throwing up that column towards the sky the _panting +blower_ seems to say, "Oh, nature, why hast thou made me a serf?" + +The life of this creature was a problem, and it seemed that this +splendid but imperfect first draft of the vast and the warm-blooded +could not endure. Their furtive and difficult love, their suckling +amidst the roar and the rush of the tempest, in the hard choice +between shipwreck and strangling; the two great acts of their life +rendered almost impossible, and performed only by mightiest effort and +most heroic will;--what conditions of existence are these! + +The mother has never more than one little one, and that is much for +her to achieve. Both she and it have three great annoyances, the +difficulty of breasting the waves, the suckling, and the fatal +necessity of rising to the surface to breathe. The education of the +young one is a real combat. Tempest-tossed and sorely beaten by the +waves, the young one sucks, as it were, by stealth, when the mother +can throw herself on her side. Here the mother is admirable. She knows +that the young one in endeavoring to draw the teat will be forced to +leave its hold; and, therefore, seizing the favorable moment, she, as +from a piston, discharges a tun of milk into the gaping and craving +mouth. + +The male seldom quits the female. Their embarrassment is great when +the eager and cruel fishers attack them in the person of their young +one. The whale-men harpoon the young one, well knowing that the +parents will follow it. And, in fact, they do make almost incredible +efforts to save it and carry it off; they rise to the surface and +expose themselves to the utmost danger. Even when it is dead, they +still defend it; though so well able to dive and save themselves, they +remain upon the water in full peril to follow the floating body of +their little one. + +Shipwrecks are common among them, for two reasons. In the first place +they cannot, like the fishes, remain during tempestuous weather in the +lower and peaceable depths; and in the next place, whatever the +danger, they will not separate; the strong nobly share the fate of the +weak; the whole family drowns together. + +In December, 1723, at the mouth of the Elbe, eight females perished, +and near their carcasses were their eight males; and a similar scene +was witnessed in 1784, at Andierne in Brittany. In the latter +instance, fish and frightened porpoises were driven on shore by the +tempest, and strange and terrible bellowings were heard from a great +family of Whales, tempest-driven, and struggling for life. There, +again, the males perished with the females. Many of the latter were +with young and defenceless against the pitiless waves; they were cast +upon the shore to die. Two of them, in this situation, brought forth +their young with piercing shrieks, and groans most harrowingly human. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE SYRENS. + + +Behold me once more on shore. I had enough, and to spare, of +shipwreck. I want durable races. The Cetaceæ must disappear. Let us +moderate our conceptions, and, of that gigantic faëry of the +first-born mammalia, of milk and warm blood, let us preserve all +except the giant. + +Above all, let us preserve the gentleness, the love, and the love of +family. Let us preserve them completely in those humbler but kindly +races into which both elements infuse their spirits. + +The benedictions of the Earth already begin to be felt. On quitting +the life of the fish, many things impossible to it, easily become +harmonized. + +Thus the Whale, tender mother if ever there was one, could grasp her +nursling, but could not press it to her breast, the arms being too +high and short, and the breast, as we have already shown, being, +perforce, placed far back. In the new creatures, which swim, but +which also creep upon the land, such as seals, sea cows, &c., the +breast, lest it should be hurt by the ground, is placed upon the +chest, thus foreshadowing woman, and giving to the form and attitude, +a grace most illusive at a distance. + +In reality, even closely examined, if it has less of charming +whiteness, the breast of the new creatures is a true feminine breast; +that globe which, swelling with love, and with the sweet necessity of +giving suck, exhibits, in its gentle heavings, all the sighs of the +heart beneath, and invites the child to nourishment and soft repose. +All this is denied to the mother that swims and floats, but is enjoyed +by her who rests. The fixity of the family, the constant tenderness, +let us at once say, Society, all these commence from the moment that +the child reposes on the maternal breast. + +But how is organization to pass from creatures of the sea to creatures +of both sea and land? Let us try to divine that transition. + +At the outset, the parentage of the amphibious race is evident. Many, +amphibious still, to their great inconvenience, have the heavy tail of +the Whale. And this latter, in one species, at least, conceals in its +tail the rude outlines and distinct commencements of the two hind feet +of the highest of the amphibious creatures. + +In the seas studded with islands, continually interposing land, the +cetaceæ, so frequently interrupted in their passage, had to modify +their habits accordingly. Their less rapid motion, and confined life, +diminished their bulk, and from the Whale they were reduced to the sea +Elephant, and reserving the memory of the superb which had armed +certain of the cetaceæ, in their grand sea life, the sea Elephant +still has strong, but very harmless fore teeth. Even its masticating +teeth are not precisely either herbivorous or carnivorous. They are +but ill adapted to either diet, and must needs operate but slowly. + +Two things tended to lighten the Whale; his mass of blubber, that vast +mass of concentrated oil, which floated him on the water, and that +powerful tail whose alternate strokes to right and left, urged him +onward. But all this was unfitted for the amphibious creature, +grovelling in shallow waters, or crawling on the rocks. The fish, so +agile, scorns a creature that cannot catch him, and he consequently +gets little other prey than the molluscs, as slow as himself. By +degrees, he learns to eat the abundant and gelatinous sea wrack, which +nourishes, and fattens, but without giving the strength of animal +food. + +Such a one we may see in the Red Sea, the Malay isles, and those of +Australia. Crawling or sitting, that rare collossus, the Dugong, +displays its chests and breasts. He is sometimes called the Dagon of +the Tabernacles, an inert idol, which in spite of its imposing +aspect, cannot defend itself, and which will soon disappear, and enter +into that region of fable which already contains so many realities, at +which we as stupidly, as presumptuously, laugh. What has caused this +great change, created the terrestrial Dugong, and his brother the +Walrus? The plentiful alimentation of the generous and fertile earth, +truly pacific before the coming of man, and doubtless, also, Love, so +difficult to the Whale, so easy in the quiet and settled life of the +amphibious. + +Love, to these latter, is no longer a thing of flight and danger; the +female is no longer the shy giant that must be followed to the end of +the world, but is content, on her bed of sea-weed, to obey the will of +her master, whose life she makes pleasant. Few mysteries here. The +amphibious live frankly and honestly in the face of day. The females +being very numerous, voluntarily form a seraglio. From wild, fierce +poetry, we descend to patriarchal manners and pleasures too facile. +The male, good patriarch, notable for his large head, his moustaches, +and his great front teeth, sits proudly between his Sarah and Agar, +Rebecca and Leah, and his little flock of young ones, to all of which +he is most kind. In his quiet life, the great strength of this +sanguineous creature, turns wholly to family tenderness; he embraces +all his family, and is willing to die, if need be, in their defence. +But, alas! his strength and his fury serve him but feebly for even +his own defence: his enormous mass delivers him over to the enemy. He +bellows, and crawls, and is willing to combat, but unable--gigantic +failure as he is; an abortion belonging to neither world, a poor +disarmed Caliban. + +Weight, so fatal to the Whale, is still more so to these. Let us, +then, still farther reduce the bulk, make, the spine more supple, and +above all, either do away with that tail, or rather, let us fork it +into two fleshy appendages, which will be much more useful. This new +being, the Seal, lighter, a good fisher, getting his subsistence in +the sea, but living on the land, will employ his life in endeavoring +to return to it, to climb the rock to which his females and their +offspring await his return from fishing. Having no tusks, like those +with which the Walrus assists himself in climbing, he presses into the +service his front and back members, clings to the sea-weed, distending +his members continually, until they form into fingers. + +What is finest in the Seal, what strikes you the moment you catch +sight of his round head, is the great capaciousness of brain. Boitard +assures us that, with the exception of man, no creature has so fine a +cerebral development as the Seal. We are strongly impressed by the +aspect of the Seal, far more so than by that of the ape tribe, whose +grimaces never fail to revolt us. I shall never forget the Seals in +the Zoological Garden at Amsterdam, admirable museum, so rich, so +beautiful, so well organized, decidedly one of the finest +establishments in the world. I was there on the twelfth of last July, +just after a great rain fall. The atmosphere was heavy and sultry, and +two Seals sought shelter and coolness, swimming and playing in their +pond. When they rested they looked up at me with their velvety eyes, +and there was a mixed intelligence and melancholy in their fixed gaze. +There was no language which we could mutually understand. Pity that, +between soul and soul, there should be that eternal barrier! + +The earth is the world of their greatest affection. There they are +born, there they love; thither, when wounded, they retire to die. +Thither they take their pregnant females, form for them their beds of +sea-weed, and provide them with fish. They are very affectionate, good +neighbors, mutually defending each other; only at their season of +amours they are a little apt to fight. Each male has two or three +females that he finds a home for on some mossy rock of sufficient +extent. That is his estate, and he suffers no intrusion upon it. He +knows how to maintain his right of proprietorship. The females are +gentle and defenceless. If ill treated, they weep, are agitated and +cast despairing glances upon the assailant. + +They are parturient during nine months, and nurse their young during +five or six months, teaching them to swim, fish, and select the best +food. No doubt they would keep them still longer, but the husband is +jealous of his own progeny, fearing that the too weak mother will give +him a rival. + +No doubt this brevity of education has limited the progress which the +Seal would otherwise have made. Maternity is only complete when we +come to the Sea Cow, an excellent family in which the parents have not +the sad courage to drive away their young. The mothers nurse them for +a long time; even while suckling a second, the mother still keeps by +her the eldest, which, though it be a male, the father never ill +treats, but seems to regard him with a love only second to that of the +mother. + +This extreme tenderness, peculiar to that species, is exemplified in +the physical progress made in the organization. In the Seal, a great +swimmer, and in the heavy and clumsy sea Elephant the arms still +continue to be fins; closely attached to the body are incapable of +extension. But at length the Sea Cow, the _Sea Mama_ as the negroes +call her, accomplishes the miracle. All extend and becomes pliant by a +continuous effort. Nature exerts all her ingenuity upon the fixed idea +of holding, pressing, caressing the young. The ligaments yield and +extend, the fore arm appears and by and by appears the hand. + +And then the mother has the great, the supreme pleasure to press her +young one to her breast. Here, then, are two things which may enable +these amphibious creatures to make great progress. Already they have +the hand, that organ of industry, that essential instrument of future +toil. It must be supplied, must aid the work of the teeth as with the +Beaver, and the Ant, will commence, at the outset, with building a +home for the family. + +On the other hand, education, also, has become possible. The young one +rests on the maternal bosom and, slowly drinking in her life, remains +there a long time, and to an age when he can learn every thing,--all +this depends on the kindness of the father who protects the innocent +rival. And it is that which allows of progress. + +And, if we might give credence to certain traditions, progress did +marvellously continue. The developed amphibious creatures, according +to those traditions, approached nearer and nearer to the human form +and became Tritons and Syrens, men and women of the Sea. Only, in +contradiction to the fables of the melodious Syrens, these are dumb in +their utter impotency to find a language in which to address +themselves to man and obtain his pity. These races will have perished, +as has the unfortunate Beaver which cannot speak, but weeps. + +It has been very lightly affirmed that these men and women of the Sea +were Seals. But how is it possible that such a mistake could be made? +Every species of the Seal has been known from very early times; even +as early as the seventh century the Seal was hunted, not only for his +skin, but also for his flesh, which was then eaten. + +The men and women of the Sea which are spoken of in the writings of +the sixteenth century, were seen, not merely for an instant, and on +the water, but brought to land, shown, and kept in the great cities of +Antwerp and Amsterdam in the time of Charles V. and Philip II., and, +therefore, under the very eyes of Vesale and other learned men and +eminent naturalists. Mention is made of a marine woman who, for +several years, wore the dress of a nun and lived in a Convent where +any one might see her. She could not speak, but worked, and could +spin, knit, and sew. Only one peculiarity, they could not cure her +of,--her great love of the water, and her incessant efforts to return +to it. + +But it will be asked--"If these creatures really existed, how is it +that we do not see them now?" Alas! We need not seek far for the +reply. They were so generally killed! It was considered a sin to let +them live, "for they were _monsters_." This we are expressly told by +the old writers. + +Whatever had not the known form of animality, and, especially, +whatever approached to the form of man passed for a _monster_, and was +pitilessly dispatched. Even the human mother of a greatly deformed +child, could not protect it; the poor creature was smothered, as being +a child of the Devil, an invention of his malice to outrage the +creation and calumniate the Deity. On the other hand, those Syrens, +too analogous to humanity, were all the more taken and detested for a +diabolic mockery. In such horror and hate were they held in the eyes +of the middle ages that their appearance was considered a prodigy, an +omen that God permitted to terrify sinners. People scarcely dared to +name them, and made haste to get rid of them. Even the bold sixteenth +century still believed them to be men and women in shape, but Devils +in reality, and not even to be touched, excepting with the harpoon. +They had become very rare when miscreants made a profit of keeping and +exhibiting them. + +But do there now exist any remains, any whole, or even partial, +skeletons of these creatures? We shall know that, when the Museums of +Europe shall throw open to our view the whole of their immense +collections. I am aware that room is wanting for that; and it is +always likely to be wanting, if we need a palace. But the most simple +building, if it only be sufficiently spacious and weather tight, would +serve to hold such collections, and needs not to be at all costly. +Hitherto, we have only seen mere specimens and selections. + +Let us add that stuffed amphibious creatures, to give us a real idea +of them, should be so placed as to exhibit _these monsters_ in the +attitudes of their actual life. Let the maternal Seal, or the Sea Cow, +be seen on its rock, as a Syren, in the first use of her hand and +pressing her little one to her breast. + +Is this to affirm that these creatures might have ascended to us? Or +that we have descended from them? Mallet supposed so, but I cannot see +the least probability in either. + +The Sea, no doubt, commenced everything. But it is not from the +highest marine animals, that has proceeded the long parallel series of +terrestrials that is culminated and crowned in Man. They were already +too fixed, too special, to form the first rude sketch of a nature so +different. They had carried far, almost exhausted, the fecundity of +their species. In that case the elders perish; and it is very low down +in the obscure juniors of some parent class that the new series +commences that is to ascend so much higher. [See notes at the end of +the volume.] + +Man was not their son, but their brother--a terribly tyrannical +brother. + +See him at length arrive, the active, the ingenious, the cruel +monarch of the world! My book grows brighter, clearer. But what does +it now proceed to exhibit? Alas! What sad things must I now draw into +that broad, bright light! This creature, this tyrannical sovereign, +can create a second nature within Nature. But what has he done with +the first, with his mother, and his nurse? With the very teeth that +she has given him, he has cruelly gnawed her bosom! + +How many animals that lived peaceably, were becoming civilized, began +even to practise some of the arts, are now hunted and terrified into +the condition of mere brutes? The Ape-kings of Ceylon, whose sagacity +was so well known in India, and that Brahmin of the creation, the +Elephant, have been chased, subdued into the state of mere beasts of +burthen. + +The freest of beings, that formerly sported so joyously and harmlessly +in the sea, those affectionate Seals, those gentle Whales, the pacific +pride of the Ocean, have fled to the polar seas, the terrible world of +ice. But they cannot all support, for long, so hard a life; in a brief +time they will all have disappeared. + +An unfortunate race, the Polish peasants, have learned to understand +the intelligence of the dumb exile which has taken refuge in the lakes +of Lithuania. The Poles say--"Woe to him who makes the Beaver weep." + +That artist-animal has become a timid beast, which knows nothing and +can do nothing. The few that still survive in America, still retire +farther and farther from the vicinage of man. A traveller lately found +one, far, very far off, beyond the great lakes. It was timidly +resuming its traditional labors, and had commenced building a house +for its family. When it saw a man, it dropped the wood on which it was +working; it did not even dare to escape, but burst into tears. + + + + +BOOK THIRD. + + CONQUEST OF THE SEA. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE HARPOON. + + +"The Sailor who sights Greenland," says Captain John Ross, with a +grave simplicity, "finds nothing to delight him with the sight." I can +very well believe it. In the first place, it is an iron-bound coast of +most pitiless aspect, whose dark granite does not even preserve a +vestment of snow. Everywhere else, Ice; not a trace of vegetation. +That desolate land which hides the Pole from us, seems a veritable +land of Famine and of Death. + +During the brief time when the water remains unfrozen, one might +contrive to live there; but the place is frozen up for nine months in +the year, and during all that time, what is to be done? And what can +one get to eat? One can scarcely even search for food. The night lasts +for months together, and at times the darkness is so dense that Kane, +surrounded by his dogs, could only discover them by the humid warmth +of their breath. In that long, long, darkness, on that sterile land, +clothed in impenetrable ice, there wander, however, two Hermits, who +persist in living in that land of horror. One of these is the fishing +Bear, a bold and eager prowler, in rich fur, and in so thick an under +vestment of fat, that he can for a long time defy both cold and +hunger. The other, a grotesque creature, looks, when seen from a +distance, like a fish reared upwards, standing on the tip of its tail; +a fish clumsily and awkwardly built, and having long hanging fins. But +this seeming fish is a man. Each scents the other, the brute and the +man; both are fierce with hunger, yet the Bear sometimes declines the +combat, and retreats before the fiercer, and still more famished, man. + +A famishing man is very terrible in his cruel courage. With no other +weapon than a sharpened bone, our Greenlander pursues the enormous +Bear. But he would have long since perished of famine, had he no other +food than his terrible compatriot. He saved himself from death only by +a crime. The earth affording nothing, he turned his attention to the +Sea, and as it was closed by the ice, he found nothing there to kill +except his gentle acquaintance the Seal. In him he found the oil +without which he would be dead of cold, even sooner than of hunger. + +The day dream of the Greenlander is that at his death he will pass to +the Moon, where he will have wood, fire, the light of the hearth. +Here below, in Greenland, oil supplies the place of all these. He +drinks it, in huge draughts, and is at once warmed and nourished. + +A great contrast between that man and the somnolent, amphibious +creatures, that, even in that climate, can live without any very +severe suffering! The gentle eye of the Seal, sufficiently indicates +that. Nursling of the Sea he is always, in connection with her, and +there are always clefts in the ice, at which the excellent swimmer +knows how to provide himself with food. Heavy and clumsy as we may +take him to be, he can adroitly mount on a piece of ice and steer +himself in search of a convenient fishing place. The water, thick with +molluscs, and fat with animated atoms, richly nourishes the fish, for +the use of the Seal, who, having well filled himself, returns to his +rock, and sleeps too soundly to feel the cold, or to fear anything. + +The man's life in Greenland, is the very contrary of this. He seems to +be there in spite of Nature, an accursed being, upon whom everything +makes pitiless war. Looking upon the photographs that we have of the +Esquimaux, we can read their terrible destiny in the fixity of their +gaze, and in the harsh, dark eye; black as midnight. They look as +though petrified by perpetually seeing before them the vision of an +infinite wretchedness. That gazing upon eternal terror, has hidden +beneath a mask of iron the man's strong intelligence, which, however, +is rapid and full of the expedients suggested by the endless dangers +and sufferings of such a life. + +What was he to do. His family was famishing, his children cried for +bread, and his wife shivered upon the snow. The North wind, pitilessly +assailed them all with mingled hail and snow, that horrid pelting +which blinds, stupefies, deprives one of sense and voice. The Sea was +frozen up; so, fish was out of the question. But the Seal was there, +and how many fish there were in one Seal; what an accumulation of the +richest oil! The Seal was there, defenceless, sleeping. Nay, had he +even been awake, he would not have tried to escape. He is like the Sea +Cow; you must beat him if you wish to drive him away. Take one of +their young and it is in vain that you throw him into the Sea, he will +get out and still follow you, gentle and attached as your favorite +dog. This facile, this affectionate, trait in the creature's +character, must have terribly troubled the man who first thought of +killing such a creature; must have made him hesitate and resist the +temptation. But at length cold and famine got the upper hand, and he +committed the assassination; from that moment he was rich. + +The flesh nourished the famishing people, the oil served to warm and +cheer them, and the bone and sinews served for many domestic uses, +while the skin served to clothe them. And what was still more useful +was, that by industriously sowing the skins together they made a +vehicle, at once light, and strong, and water proof, which the man +called his canoe, and in which he dared to put out to sea. + +A miserable little vehicle it was; long, slender, and weighing +scarcely anything. But it was every where very firmly closed up, +except an opening in which the rower seated himself, drawing the skin +tightly around his waist. One would suppose that such a craft must +upset and be swamped; but nothing of the sort occurs. It darts like an +arrow over the crest of the wave, disappears, reappears, now in the +eddies, now between the icebergs. + +Man and boat are one; a marine entity; an artificial fish. But how +inferior is this artificial fish to the true one! He has not the +floating bladder, which enables the fish to make itself lighter or +heavier as the occasion may demand. Still more, the man has not the +vigorous motion, the lively contraction and expansion of the spine to +communicate such power to the strokes of the tail, nor has he the oil +which, being so much lighter than water, will always ride above the +waves. What the man best imitates is the fin, but even that only +imperfectly. The man's fins, his oars, are not attached to his body, +but, moved by his long arms, are weak compared to the fin, and, +moreover, soon fatigue the rower. What is it that makes amends for so +much of inferiority in the means of the man? His terrible energy, his +vivid reason which, from beneath that fixed and melancholy +countenance, flashes out from time to time, invents, resolves, and +finds an instant remedy for all the deficiences which, in this +floating skin, momentarily threaten him with death. + +Frequently our rower is stopped by a mass of ice which peremptorily +refuses him a passage. Then comes a new expedient, the parts are +changed on the instant. Hitherto the canoe has carried the man; now +the man carries the canoe. He takes it on his shoulder and traverses +the icy portage till he comes again to open water, the ice crackling +beneath him as he crosses it. Occasionally icebergs, floating, and +terrible mountains, are so close that they leave between them only a +narrow passage which our man passes through at the risk of being in an +instant crushed, flattened between them. Those icy walls now widen, +now contract, the space between them; they may, at any moment, come +together with a force that would crush a seventy-four, to say nothing +about our poor Greenlander in his poor skin canoe. Such a fate did, in +fact, once occur to a tall ship; she was cut in two, flattened, +crushed; by the coming together of two icebergs. + +These Greenlanders tell us that their ancestors were Whale fishers. +They were less wretched then, more ingenious, and better provided. No +doubt they had iron; procured probably from Norway or Iceland. Whales +have always been very numerous in the Greenland seas. A grand object +of desire to those to whom oil is a thing of the very first necessity! +The fish give it by drops, the Seal in waves--the Whale in mountains! +He was truly a man, and a bold one, who first, with his poor weapons, +with the sea howling at his feet, and the darkness closing around him, +dared to pursue the Whale! A bold man, he, who trusting to his +courage, the strength of his arm and the weight of his harpoon, first +believed that he could pierce that mighty mass of blubber and flesh +and convert it to his own profit!--the man who first imagined that he +could attack the Whale and not perish in the tempest that would be +raised by the plunges and terrific tail-blows of the astonished and +suffering monster! And, as if to crown his audacity, the man next +fastened a line to his harpoon, and braving still more closely the +frightful shock of the agonized and dying giant, never once feared +that that giant might plunge headlong into the deep, taking with him +harpoon, line, boat,--and man! + +There is still another danger, and no less terrible. It is that +instead of meeting the common Whale, our man should fall in with the +Cachalot, that terror of the seas. He is not very large, perhaps not +more than from sixty to eighty feet. But his head alone measures +about a third; from twenty to twenty-five feet. In case of such a +meeting, woe to the fisher; he would become the chased instead of the +chaser, the victim instead of the tyrant. The Cachalot has horrible +jaws, and no fewer than forty-eight enormous teeth; he could with ease +devour all; both boat and man. And he seems always drunk with blood. +His blind rage so terrifies all the other Whales that they escape, +bellowing, throwing themselves on the shore, or striving to hide +themselves in the sand. Even when he is dead they still fear him and +will not approach his carcass. The fiercest species of the Cachalot is +the Ourque or Physetene of the ancients, which is so much dreaded by +the Icelanders, that when they are on the sea they will not so much as +name him lest he should come and attack them. They believe, on the +other hand, that a species of Whale, the Jubarte, loves and protects +them, and provokes the monster in order to save them from his fury. + +Many think that the first who undertook so perilous a task as that of +Whale fishing must have been eccentric hot heads. According to those +who think so, that perilous chase could never have originated with the +prudent men of the North, but must have been initiated by the Basques, +those daring hunters and fishers who were so well accustomed to their +own capricious sea, the Gulf of Gascony, where they fished the Tunny. +Here they first saw the huge Whales at play and pursued them, frenzied +by the hope of such enormous prey, and pursued them still, onward and +onward, no matter whither; even to the confines of the pole. + +Here the poor Colossus fancied it must needs be safe, for it could not +fancy any one would be desperate enough to follow it thither, and so +it went tranquilly to sleep. But our Basque mad-caps approached it +stealthily and silently. Tightening his red belt around his waist, the +boldest and most active of the Basque sailors leaped from the deck +right on to the back of the sleeping monster, and, fearlessly or +carelessly, drove the harpoon home to the very eye. Poor Whale! + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +DISCOVERY OF THE THREE OCEANS. + + +Who opened up to men the great distant navigation? Who revealed the +Ocean, and marked out its zones and its liquid highways? Who +discovered the secrets of the Globe? The Whale and the Whaler! + +And all this before Columbus and the famous gold seekers, who have +monopolized all the glory, found again, with much outcry about their +discovery, what had so long before been discovered by the Whalers. + +That crossing of the Ocean which was so boastfully celebrated in the +fifteenth century, had often been made, not only by the narrow passage +between Iceland and Greenland, but also by the open sea; for the +Basques went to Newfoundland. The smallest danger was the mere voyage, +for these men, who went to the very end of the then world, to +challenge the Whale to single combat. To steer right away into the +Northern seas, to attack the mighty monster, amid darkness and +storms, with the dense fog all around and the foaming waves below, +those who could do this, were, believe it well, not the men to shrink +from the ordinary dangers of the voyage. + +Noble warfare; great school of courage! That Fishery was not then, as +it is now, an easy war to wage, made from a distance, and with a +potently murderous machine. No; the fisher then struck with his own +strong hand, impelled and guided by his own fearless heart; and he +risked life to take life. The men of that day killed but few Whales, +but they gained infinitely in maritime ability, in patience, in +sagacity, and in intrepidity. They brought back less of oil; but more, +far more, of glory. + +Every nation has its own peculiar genius. We recognize each by its own +style of procedure. There are a hundred forms of courage, and these +graduated varieties, formed, as it were, another heroic game. At the +North, the Scandinavian, the ruddy race from Norway to Flanders, had +their sanguine fury. At the South, the wild burst, the gay daring, the +clear-headed excitement, that impelled, at once, and guided them over +the world. In the center, the silent and patient firmness of the +Breton, who, yet, in the hour of danger could display a quite sublime +eccentricity. And lastly, the Norman wariness, considerately +courageous; daring all, but daring all for success. + +Such was the beauty of man, in that sovereign manifestation of human +courage. + +We owe a vast deal to the Whale. But for it, the fishers would still +have hugged the shore; for almost every edible fish, seeks the shore, +and the river. It was it that emancipated them, and led them afar. It +led them onward, and onward still, until they found it, after having +almost unconsciously, passed from one world to the other. Greenland +did not seduce them, it was not the land that they sought, but the +sea, and the tracks of the Whale. The Ocean at large is its home, and +especially the broad and open Sea. Each species has its especial +preference for this or that latitude, for a certain zone of water; +more or less cold. And it was that preference which traced out the +great divisions of the Atlantic. + +The tribe of inferior Whales, that have a dorsal fin, (Baleinopteres) +are to be found in the warmest, and in the coldest seas; under the +line, and in the polar seas. In the great intermediate region, the +fierce Cachalot inclines towards the South, devastating the warm +waters. On the contrary, the Free Whale fears the warm waters; we +should rather say that they did, formerly, fear them;--they have +become so scarce! Especially affecting, for their food, the molluscs, +and other forms of elementary life, they sought them in the temperate +waters, a little to the northward. They are never found in the warm, +southern current; it was that fact that led to the current being +noticed, and thence to the discovery of the _true course from America +to Europe_. From Europe to America, the trade winds will serve us. + +If the Free Whale has a perfect horror of the warm waters, and cannot +pass the Equator, it is clear that he cannot double the southern end +of America. How happens it, then, that when he is wounded on one side +of America, in the Atlantic, he is sometimes found on the other side +of America, and in the Pacific? _It proves that there is a +north-western passage._ Another discovery which we owe to the Whale, +and one which throws a broad light alike on the form of the globe, and +the geography of the seas! + +By degrees, the Whale has led us everywhere. Rare as he is at present, +he has led us to both poles, from the uttermost recesses of the +Pacific to Behring's strait, and the infinite wastes of the Antarctic +waters. There is even an enormous region that no vessel, whether war +ship or merchantman, ever traverses, at a few degrees beyond the +southern points of America and Africa. No one visits that region but +the Whalers. + +Had they chosen, the magnates of the earth might much earlier have +made the discoveries of the fifteenth century. They should have +addressed themselves to the sea rovers, to the Basques, to the +Icelanders, to the Norwegians, and to our Normans. For very many +reasons, they could not venture to do so. The Portuguese were +unwilling to employ any but men of their own nationality, and formed +in their own school. They feared our Normans, whom they chased and +dispossessed from the coast of Africa. On the other hand, the kings of +Castile always felt suspicious of their subjects, the Basques, whose +privileges rendered them a kind of republic within a monarchy, and +who, moreover, were well known to be both bold and dangerous. It was +this feeling which caused these princes to fail, in more than one +enterprise. We need mention only one of them, the miserably ruined +Armada, so proudly and absurdly called the _Invincible_. Philip II, +who had two veteran Basque Admirals, gave the command of the Armada, +to a Castilian. The advice of the veterans was neglected, and thence +the disaster. + +A terrible disease broke out in the fifteenth century. The hunger, the +thirst, the raging thirst for gold. Kings, priests, warriors, people, +all cried aloud for gold. There was no longer any means of balancing +income and expenditure. False money, cruel persecutions, atrocious +wars, all and every thing, were employed, but still the cry was for +gold, and the gold was not forthcoming. The alchemists confidently +promised that they would soon make it; but it was to be waited for, +that gold; still, still, it was not forthcoming. The treasury became +furious as a hungry Lion, devoured the Jews, devoured the Moors, and +of all that mighty devouring there was not a morsel left between the +teeth of the still gold-hungry nations. + +The peoples were quite as eager as the kings. Lean and sucked to the +very bone, they begged, they prayed, they implored, for a miracle that +would bring down gold from Heaven. + +We all know the story of Sinbad the Sailor, that capital story in the +_Arabian Nights_. The poor porter, Hindbad, bending under a load of +wood, stops before the doors of Sinbad's palace, to listen to the +music, and bitterly complains of the contrast between the lot of the +poor porter Hindbad, and that of Sinbad, the returned, renowned, and +magnificently rich Sinbad. But when the enriched sailor related all +the perils he had undergone, and all the sufferings he had endured, +Hindbad stood aghast at the tale. The entire effect of the story is to +exaggerate the dangers of the great game, the vast lottery of +travelling, but also to exaggerate the profits that may be made by it, +and to discourage steady and humble industry. + +The legend, which, in the fifteenth century, influenced so many +hearts, and turned so many brains, was a rehash of the fable of the +Hesperides, an Eldorado, a land of gold, which was located in the +Indies; a terrestrial paradise, still existing here below. The only +difficulty consisted in finding that same golden land. They did not +care to seek it in the North, which was the reason why so little use +was made of the discovery of Newfoundland and Greenland. In the South, +on the contrary, gold dust had already been found in Africa. That was +encouraging. + +The learned dreamers of a pedantic century heaped up texts and +commentaries, and the discovery, by no means difficult in itself, was +rendered so, by dint of lectures, reflections, and utopian dreams. Was +this land of gold, Paradise, or was it not? Was it at our antipodes? +and, in fact, have we any antipodes? And at this last question all the +Doctors, all the men of the black robe, stopped the learned quite +short, and reminded them that upon that point, the Church was quite +positive; the heretical doctrine of the Antipodes having been formally +and expressly condemned. Behold a serious difficulty! Our learned +dreamers were stopped short. + +But why was it so difficult to discover the already discovered +America? The reason seems to be that the discovery was at once hoped +for and dreaded. + +The learned Italian bookseller, Columbus, felt quite satisfied upon +the subject. He had been in Iceland to collect traditions, and on the +other hand the Basques told him all that they knew about Newfoundland. +A Gallician had been cast away there and had lived there. Columbus +selected for his associates the Pinçons, Andalusian pilots, who are +with much probability supposed to be identical with the Pinçons of +Dieppe. We say that this is very probable because our Basques and +Normans, subjects of Castile, were intimately connected. They are the +same who, under the name of Castilians, were led by the Norman +Bethencourt to the famous expedition of the Canaries. Our kings +conferred privileges on the _Castilians_ settled at Honfleur and +Dieppe; and, on the other hand, the men of Dieppe had trading +establishments at Seville. It is not certain that a Dieppois found +America four years before Columbus, but it is about certain that these +Pinçons of Andalusia were Norman privateers. + +Neither Basques nor Normans could obtain authority to act under the +commission of Castile. It was an able and eloquent Italian, a +persistent Genoese, who seized upon the fitting moment, and used it, +and set all scruple aside,--that moment when the ruin of the Moors had +cost so dear to Castile, and when the cry of Gold, Gold, or we perish, +became louder, more piteous, and more unanimous, than ever. That +moment was when victorious Spain shuddered as she counted the cost, +paid and unpaid, of her wars of the crusade and the Inquisition. The +Italian seized upon that lever and used it most unscrupulously; +becoming most devout among the devout. More apparently bigoted than +the Bigots themselves, he pressed the very Church into his service. +Isabella was reminded of the great sin and scandal of leaving whole +nations of Pagans still in the valley of the shadow of death; and it +was particularly pressed upon her observation, that to discover the +golden land, was the one thing needful to acquiring the ability to +exterminate the Turk and to recover Jerusalem. + +It is well known that of three ships the Pinçons shipped two, and +commanded them, and they led the way. One of them, indeed, mistook his +course, but the others, Francis Pinçon and his younger brother +Vincent, pilot of the vessel _Nina_, signalled to Columbus, on the +12th of October, 1492, to steer to the south-west. Columbus, who was +on a westerly course, would have encountered the gulf stream in its +fullest force, and directly thwart hawse, and he would have crossed +that liquid wall only with the greatest difficulty. He would have +perished, or would have made such little way that his discouraged crew +would have mutinied. On the contrary, the Pinçons, who probably had +collected some traditions on the subject, steered as though they were +well acquainted with the current; they did not attempt to cross it in +its force, but keeping well to the southward, crossed without +difficulty and made the exact spot where the trades blow directly from +Africa to America in the latitude of Haiti. This is proved from the +journal of Columbus himself, who candidly avows that he was guided by +the Pinçons. + +Who first saw America? One of Pinçon's sailors, if we may put any +confidence in the report of the royal enquiry of 1513. + +From all this it would seem pretty plain that a good share of both the +glory and the gain ought to have been awarded to the Pinçons. They +thought the same, and commenced legal proceedings, but the king +decided in favor of Columbus. Why? Apparently because the Pinçons were +Normans, and Spain preferred to recognize the right of a Genoese, +without national feeling, than that of French subjects of Louis XII, +and of Francis I, to whom, as French subjects, they might some day, +from fear or favor, transfer their rights. One of the Pinçons died of +despair, caused by this very manifestly unjust decision. + +But still, who had overcome the great obstacle of religious +repugnance? Whose eloquence, tact, and perseverance, in fact set the +expedition fairly afloat? Columbus, and Columbus alone. He was the +real author of the enterprise and he was also its heroic conductor, +and he merits the glory which his posterity preserves and ever will +preserve for him. + +I think with M. Jules de Blosseville (a noble heart and a good judge +of great and heroic things) that in all these discoveries the only +real difficulty was the circumnavigation of the globe, the enterprise +of Magellan and his pilot, the Basque, Sebastian del Cano. The most +brilliant, but at the same time the easiest, was the crossing the +Atlantic, catching the trade wind, and thus getting to America far +south of the point at which it had long before been discovered at the +North. + +The Portuguese did a far less extraordinary thing in taking an entire +century to discover the Western coast of Africa. Our Normans, in a +very brief space had discovered the half of it. In spite of all that +is said about the laudable perseverance of Prince Henry, in +establishing the Lisbon school, the Venetian Cadamosto clearly proves +the want of ability of the Portuguese pilots. They no sooner had one +at once bold and highly gifted, in the person of Bartholomew Diaz, who +doubled the Cape, than they replaced him by Gama, a noble of the +king's household, and, above all, a soldier. The truth is, that the +Portuguese cared more about conquests to make, and treasure to gain, +than about discoveries, properly so called. Gama was brave as brave +could be, but he was only too faithful to his orders to suffer no +other flag in the same seas. A ship load of Pilgrims from Mecca, whom +he barbarously murdered, exasperated all the hates, and augmented, +throughout the East, that horror of the very name of Christian, which +more and more closed Asia, alike against discoverers, for the sake of +discovery, and adventurers for the sake of plunder. + +Is it true that Magellan, before his great enterprise, had seen the +Pacific laid down upon a globe by the German, Behaim? No; that globe +has never been produced. Had he seen, in the possession of his master, +the king of Portugal, a chart which had it so laid down? It has been +said, but never proved. It is far more probable that some of the +adventurers who, already, for twenty years, had been traversing the +American continent, had seen the Pacific, not on globes or charts, but +with their own eyes. That report, which was circulated, spread +admirably well with the theoretical calculation of such a +counterpoise, necessary to our hemisphere, and to the equilibrium of +the globe. + +There is not a more terrible biography than that of Magellan. +Throughout, we have nothing but combat, far voyages, flights, trials, +attempted assassination, and at length, death, among the scourges. He +fought in Africa, he fought in the Indies, and he married among the +brave but ferocious Malays;--whom, by the way, he seems not a little +to have resembled. + +During his long residence in Asia, he collected all possible +information, preparatory to his great expedition, to find the way by +America, to the Spice Islands, the Moluccas; thus getting spices so +much cheaper than by the old course. His original idea of the +enterprise, was, thus, an altogether commercial one. To lower the +price of pepper, was the primitive inspiration of the most heroic +voyage ever made on this globe! + +The true court spirit of intrigue, reigned in Portugal in full power +over everything. Magellan finding himself ill treated there, went over +to Spain, where Charles V. magnificently furnished him with five +ships, but not choosing to put full confidence in a Portuguese +malcontent, the king associated with Magellan a Castilian. Magellan +sailed between two dangers, the jealousy of the Castilian, and the +vengeance of the Portuguese, who sought to assassinate him. He soon +had a mutiny in the fleet, and displayed, in crushing it an +indomitable heroism, and no less barbarity. The mutineers he savagely +put to death, and his Castilian colleague he put into irons. To +increase his troubles, some of his vessels were wrecked. His people +were unwilling to proceed with him, when they saw the desolate aspect +of Cape Horn, the truly discouraging aspect of Terra-del-Fuego, and +Cape Forward. The islands, which form, under the name of Cape Horn, +the southern point of America, seem to have been violently rent from +the continent by the fury of many volcanoes, and suddenly cooled. As +the result, they present a frightfully heterogeneous mass of sharp +peaks, huge blocks of granite, of lava, and of basalt, all these, +grotesquely, yet frightfully, arranged, in frowning confusion, and +clothed in ice and snow. + +All had quite enough of this at a single glance, and bold Magellan's +word was--"Onward!" He filled away his sails, steered now to +starboard, now to larboard, then to starboard again, and at length +found himself in that boundless sea which was then so _Pacific_ that +it then received the name which it has ever since borne; though all +who have sailed upon it, well know that at times, it can comport +itself in an anything rather than pacific style. + +Magellan at length perished in the Philippines. Four vessels were +lost. The only one which survived, was the Victory, whose crew was +reduced to thirteen men. But among them was the great and intrepid +Pilot, the Basque, Sebastian, who, in 1521, returned to Spain, the +first of mortal men who had been completely round the globe. + +Nothing could be grander. The sphericity of the globe was thus made +matter of certainty. That physical marvel of water uniformly extended +over a globe, and constantly adhering to it, that strange mechanical +postulate, was fully demonstrated. The Pacific was at length known, +that grand, and till then mysterious laboratory, in which, far from +our ken, Nature so profoundly labors in life-creating and +life-nurturing, making new rocks, new islands, new continents. + +A revelation, that, of immense significance; and not only of material, +but also of moral significance, which gave a hundred fold increase to +man's daring, and sent him forth on another daring voyage, on the +boundless Ocean of the Sciences, to circumnavigate,--with more or less +of success, as it may chance,--the INFINITE! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE LAW OF STORMS. + + +It is but yesterday, as it were, that we have built ships fit for +southern navigation; for navigation in those seas where the long, +strong, _rollers_, pile themselves, each upon each, into absolutely +mountainous masses of storm-lashed waves. What, then, shall we say of +the early navigators who ventured into such seas with their clumsy +leewards, heavy, and yet scarcely sea-worthy cock-boats? + +Especially for the polar seas, whether arctic or antarctic, we need +ships expressly built for such rude service. They were bold men, those +who, like a Cabot, a Brentz, a Willoughby, ventured in their clumsy, +ill-found, badly rigged, and scarcely sea-worthy tubs to navigate the +icy seas; to dare Spitzbergen, to make Greenland by that funereal cape +_Farewell_, and to coast the thousand giant icebergs in sight of +which, men in our own day, a hundred Whalers have gone to pieces. + +What chiefly rendered those ancient heroes so sublime was their very +ignorance, their blind courage, their desperate resolution. They knew +but little of the sea, and of the Heavens they knew still less; the +compass, their only instructor and their only reliance, they dared the +most alarming phenomena without being able even to guess at their +causes. They had none of our instruments which speak to us so plainly +and so unmistakably. They went blindfolded towards, and fearlessly +into, the uttermost darkness. They, themselves, confess that they +feared, but also, they would not yield. The sea's tempests, the air's +whirlwinds and water spouts, the tragic dialogues of those two Oceans, +of air and water, the striking, and, not so long since, ominous +phenomena of the Aurora Borealis, all this strange and wild +phantasmagoria seemed to them the fury of irritated Nature, a +veritable strife of Demons against which man could _dare_ all--as they +did--but could _do_ what they also did--nothing. + +During three centuries but little progress was made. Read Cook, read +Peron, and you will readily comprehend how difficult, uncertain, and +perilous was navigation, even up to an hour so near our own. + +Cook, that man of immense courage, but also, of most lively +imagination, himself confesses, as his Journal testifies, that he knew +how uncertain and perilous was the profession of the seaman even so +lately as his day. In his Journal, we read; "The dangers are so +great, that I venture to say, that no one will dare to go farther than +I have gone." + +Now it is precisely since then that voyages have become, at once, more +distant, more regular, and less dangerous. + +A great age, a Titanic age, the 19th century, has coolly, +intelligently, and sternly noted all those phenomena which the old +navigators braved, but did not examine. In this century it is that we, +for the first time, have dared to look the Tempest squarely, and +fearlessly, and scrutinizingly, in the eyes. Its premonitory symptoms, +its characteristics, its results;--each and all have been calmly +watched, and carefully and systematically registered; and, then, from +that registration, necessarily come explanation and generalization, +and thence, the grand, bold--and, as our not very distant ancestors +would have said, impious system--the _Law of Storms_. + +So! What we took, what we in the old, bold, but blind day, took for +matter of caprice, is really, after all, reducible to a system, +obedient to a Law! So! then, those terrible facts, that made the brain +swim, the boldest quail, because they _fought shadows_ and _walked in +the darkness_, so! then, those terrible facts have a certain +regularity of recurrence, and the seaman, resolute and strong, calmly +considers whether he cannot oppose to those regular attacks a defence +no less regular. In brief, if the Tempest has its _science_, can we +not create and use an _art_? An art not merely to survive the Tempest +but even to make it useful? + +But our science and our art cannot be called into life and activity +until we shall have laid aside our old and ill founded notion that +Tempests are caused by "the caprice of the winds." Attentive +observation has taught us that the winds are _not_ capricious, that +they are the accident, sometimes, also, the agent of the Tempest, but +that, generally speaking, the Tempest is an _electrical phenomenon_, +and often occurs in the absence of gales. + +Romme (brother of the Conventionalist, principal author of the +Calendar) laid the foundations of our very important science. English +seamen had remarked that in the tempests in the Indian Seas, they +sailed for days together, and yet made no headway. Romme collected and +systematized all their observations, and pointed out the important +fact that the same occurred in the tempests of China, Africa, and the +Antilles. He also first pointed out that rectilinear winds are of rare +occurrence, and that, usually, tempests have a circular +character,--are, literally, a _whirl_ wind. The great _whirling_ +tempests of the United States in 1815, and that of 1821 (the year of +the great eruption of Hecla) when the winds blew from all points to a +common centre, aroused philosophical attention, both in America and +Europe. Brande, in Germany, and at the same time, Redfield in New +York, were the next after Romme in profiting by these facts to lay +down the law that, generally, the tempest is a _Whirl_-wind, +advancing, and at the same time _revolving on its own base_. In 1838, +the English engineer, Reid, being sent to Barbadoes after the too +celebrated tempest which killed fifteen hundred people, ascertained, +with mathematical precision, this double movement of advance and +rotation. But his still more important discovery was that _in our +northern hemisphere the tempest turns from right to left_, that is to +say from East to North, and round the compass, back to East; while in +_southern tempests it turns from left to right_. A most important fact +to regulate the seaman's course. + +Reid very rightfully gave his book the bold title of--"On the Law of +Storms." + +But it was the law of their _Motion_, not the explanation of their +_cause_; it told nothing, either, of what Storms do, or of what they +are. + +Here France came to the rescue. In 1840, Peltier published his _Causes +of Whirlwinds_, and his ingenious and numerous experiments established +the fact that whirlwinds, whether at sea or on shore, were _electrical +phenomena_, in which the winds play only a secondary part. Beccaria, a +full century earlier, had suspected that fact, but it was reserved +for Peltier to establish the fact, by making miniature storms. + +Electrical whirlwinds readily take their rise in the neighborhood of +volcanoes,--those ventilating pipes of the subterranean world, and +therefore they are more common in the subterranean world, than in +ours. + +The Atlantic, open at both ends, and swept in all directions by the +winds, should necessarily, have more rectilinear, and fewer circular +tempests; but Piddington quotes a great number of the latter. + +From 1840 to 1850, the immense compilations of Piddington and Maury +were made, at Calcutta and New York. Maury is rendered illustrious for +his charts, his _Directions_, and his _Geography of the Sea_. +Piddington, less artistical, but not less learned, in his _Seaman's +Guide_, that Encyclopedia of storms, gives the results of an infinite +experience, the minutest and most precise means of calculating the +distance of the whirlwind, its rate of speed, and the nature of its +various waves. He confirmed the ideas of Peltier, as to the electric +theory, and showed that those who had dwelt on the caprice of the +whirlwind, had, in truth, completely mistaken the effect for the +cause. + +The old art of auguries, and science of presages, never contemptible, +was most happily revived by that excellent book. + +The setting of the Sun, is by no means an indifferent augury. If he +set red, and if the sea retain the reflection of his blood-red rays, +rely upon it, a storm is brewing, in that other Ocean--the air; if +around him you see a lurid red within a white circle, and the stars +are flickering, and seeming to fall, be sure that the upper regions of +the atmosphere are threatening. + +Still worse, it is, if, upon a dirty sky, you see small clouds +marshalling, like so many purple arrows, flying from all quarters to +one common point, and if, at the same time, the larger masses assume +the shape of strange buildings, ruined bridges, broken rainbows, and a +hundred other eccentricities; then rely upon it, the storm has already +commenced in the upper region. At present, all is calm, here below, +but, on the horizon, you may discern the faintly flashing, and silent +lightnings. Listen attentively, and, from time to time, you shall hear +the low mutterings of the distant thunder; and the waves, as they +break upon the beach, seem to sob. Look out! The sea tells you, +plaintively, of the coming storm. "What are those wild waves saying?" +They are warning you, I repeat, of the coming storm. The wild, free +birds have already taken warning, and hasten to their secure shelter +in the clefts of the rocks. If they are far from land when they see, +and feel, and hear, the first threatenings of the rising storm, they +settle down upon your masts, and yards, and shrouds. And first among +them comes that bird of evil omen, the "Mother Carey's Chicken," the +Stormy Petrel. Look out, my brothers; I assure you the tempest +approaches. + +Does it thunder? Be very glad of that, brother seaman; the electric +discharge is taking place far above us, and we shall have the less of +the tempest. It is an old popular observation, but confirmed by the +science of Peltier and by the experience of Piddington and others. + +If the electricity, accumulated on high, discharges itself here below, +it will create circular currents, and we shall have whirlwind, fierce +tempest, and, probably water spout. + +This last sort of storm not uncommonly attacks you when you are +seemingly quite safe in harbor. In 1698, Captain Langford, in port and +well anchored, saw that he was about to be thus assailed, slipped his +cable, and found safety on the open sea. Other craft, whose commanders +had less freight or less daring, remained at anchor and were +destroyed. + +At Madras and at Barbadoes, warning signals are given to the ships at +anchor. In Canada, the electric Telegraph, swifter than Nature's own +electricity, sends warning of the coming storm from port to port. + +To the sailor when on the broad Ocean, the great friend and adviser is +the Barometer; its perfect sensitiveness gives you the most exact +information of the weight with which the storm-laden atmosphere +oppresses it. Usually, it tells you of nothing but fine weather; it +almost seems to sleep. But at the first and most distant note of the +rising storm, it suddenly awakens, is agitated, and its mercury +descends, ascends, redescends. The barometer has its own tempest. +Peron when at the Mauritius observed that flashes of pale light +escaped from the mercury, and filled the whole tube. During gales, the +sensitive instrument seems actually to breathe. "In its fluctuations," +say Daniel and Barlow, "the water barometer breathed, blew, like some +wild animal." + +But the Tempest advances and occasionally illuminates the horizon all +around with its electric lightnings. In 1772, during the great storm +in the West Indies, when the sea rose seventy feet above ordinary high +water mark, the dense darkness of the night was dissipated by balls of +lurid fires that lighted up every shore. + +The approach of the storm may be more or less rapid. In the Indian +Ocean, thickly studded with islands and obstacles, the whirlwind and +the water-spout approach you only at the rate of some two miles an +hour; while when they come along the course of the warm current, that +comes to us from the Antilles, they travel at the rate of from forty +to fifty. Their speed would, in fact, be incalculably great but for +their oscillation, beaten as they are by the winds, both internally +and externally. + +Slow or rapid, the fury of the tempest is the same. In 1789, in a +single instant and with a single rush, the tempest dashed to pieces +every vessel in the port of Ceringa; at a second rush the town was +flooded; at the third it was in ruins, and twenty thousand of its +inhabitants were dead. In 1822, off Bengal, a water spout was for +twenty-four hours sucking up air and water, and, when it burst, fifty +thousand people perished. + +In different localities, different aspects of the Tempest. In Africa +you have the _upas_, the fierce compound of _simoom_ and _tornado_. +The atmosphere seems calm and clear, and yet you feel a strange +oppression of the lungs and a general anxiety as terrible as it is +strange. Then a black cloud, "no bigger than a man's hand," appears on +the horizon, approaches with lightning speed, lengthening, widening, +and deepening as it approaches (_vires acquirit eundo_) the storm +descends, and in a quarter of an hour all around is devastated, +utterly ruined, and ships have utterly disappeared. Nature takes no +heed of such small matters. About Sumatra and Bengal, you see in the +evening or night (never in the morning) a dark arched cloud in the +sky. It rapidly increases, and presently, from that dark cloud, come +down flashes and sheets of pale and ghastly lights. Woe to the +mariner who shall encounter the first wind that rushes from that +sinister cloud; he will pretty certainly go down. + +But the ordinary form is that of a huge funnel. A sailor, who was +caught in one of these terrible storms, says: "I found myself, as it +were, at the bottom of an enormous crater of a volcano; all around was +darkness, above a glimmering of lurid lights." That light is what is +technically termed "_the eye of the Tempest_." + +When the Water spout, the horrible Typhoon, empties itself, human +science and human daring are of no avail. Roaring, howling, shrieking, +hissing, the storm fiends are at work above, below, around the +luckless vessel. Suddenly there is a dead, a quite horrible silence, +and there comes forth, seemingly, from the very centre of the water +spout, a blinding flash, and a deafening report, and when you, at +length, recover power to look aloft, you find that mast and spars have +been shivered. + +Seymour tells us that, sometimes, after being caught in one of those +horrible Typhoons the sailors, for a long time, have blackened nails +and weakened sight. Sometimes, too, this terrible Typhoon sucks up not +only air and water, but also the luckless ship, holds it suspended in +the air, and then dashes it rudely down into the watery abyss. From +this terrible action and pitiless power of the Typhoon, the Chinese +derived their notion of the terrible mother _Typhon_, who, hovering +in the sky, picks out her victims and is ever conceiving and bearing +the _Ken Woo_, whirlwinds of fire and iron. To that terrible _Typhon_ +they have erected temples and altars, adoring her and praying to her +in the vain hope of humanising her. + +The brave Piddington had no adoration to spare for her; on the +contrary, he gives her a marvellously ill name. He calls her an only +too strong corsair, a pirate so strong and so tricky that there is no +dishonor in getting out of her way. + +That perfidious enemy sometimes sets a snare for you; tempts you with +_a good wind_. Avoid that same _good wind_, turn your back to it if +you possibly can. Give that dangerous companion the widest possible +berth. Steer very clear of the storm cloud or it will suddenly sink +you; ship, crew and cargo. + +Such is the advice of the brave and skillful Piddington, and, +assuredly, one would gladly take such advice. But how? It would be +utterly useless if the storm cloud and the ship were brought together +within narrow and land locked waters. But, in general, this enormous +compound of whirlwind and water spout embraces a circle of ten, +twenty, or even thirty leagues, and this gives every ship, on which a +constant and intelligent look out is kept, a fair chance of keeping at +a respectful distance from so redoubtable a foe. The great point to +be ascertained is, _where is the centre_, the nucleus, the terrible +home, of this terrible _Typhon_. And then to ascertain its rate of +progression and its line of approach. + +The sailor of the present day has two excellent lights to steer by; +his Maury and his Piddington. On the one hand, Maury teaches him the +general laws of the air and sea, and the art of selecting and using +the currents, directing him, as it were, along the streets and +highways of the Ocean. On the other hand, Piddington in his small, but +instructive volume, sums up for him, and places in his hands, the +_Experience of Tempests_; not only how to avoid them, when possible, +but sometimes when to make them useful. + +And this it is that at once explains and justifies the fine sentence +of the Dutch Captain Jansen. "At sea," says he, "the first impression +is that of the power of nature, the profundity of the depths--and our +own nothingness. On board of the largest ship, we still feel that we +are constantly in danger. But when the mind's eye has penetrated the +depths and surveyed the expanse, man no longer fears the danger. He +rises to the true sense of the situation. Guided by Astronomy, shown +by Maury along the highways and byways of the Ocean, he steers his +course safely and _confidently_." + +This is truly sublime. The Tempest is not abolished, it is true; but +ignorance, bewilderment, that terrible bewilderment which is born of +danger and darkness, are abolished. At least if the seaman of the +present day perish, he will know the why and wherefore. Great, oh, +very great is the safeguard of having the calm, clear presence of +mind, with our soul and intellect unruffled and resigned to whatever +may be the effect of the great divine laws of the world which, at the +expense of a few shipwrecks, produce Equilibrium and Safety. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE POLAR SEAS. + + +What most tempts man? The difficult, the useless, the impossible. Of +all maritime enterprises, that to which the most persistent energy has +been given, is the north western passage, the direct line from Europe +to Asia. And yet, the plainest common-sense might anticipatively have +told us that, given, the existence of such a passage, in a latitude so +cold, so blocked up by ice, it would, practically, be useless; few +would, none could, make any regular use of it. _Open this year, it is +quite sure to be closed up next year._ + +Remember that that region has not the flatness of Siberia; it is a +mountain of a thousand leagues, horribly broken, with deep chasms, +with seas, that, thawed one hour, are frozen up the next, passages +between icebergs, which shift their position from time to time, open +to invite you, and close to crush you. At length, in 1853, that +passage was found, by a man who had got so far in, that it was safer +to go ahead, than to recede, and who, therefore, went daringly and +desperately forward, till he found that which he sought. Now we know +what that passage is; men's minds are calmed down; we know that there +is such a passage, and we have not even the smallest desire to make +use of it. + +When I spoke of that passage, as being _useless_, I spoke of it as a +commercial highway. But in following this commercially useless +enterprise, we have made many very useful discoveries for Geography, +Meteorology, and the magnetism of the Earth; just as silly Alchemy, +has done so much for wise, and admirably useful Chemistry. + +What was the original idea? To open a short way to the land of gold, +to the East Indies. England, and other powers, jealous of Spain and +Portugal, reckoned upon surprising them in the very heart of their +distant possessions, in the very sanctuary of wealth. From the time of +Queen Elizabeth of England, adventurers having found, or stated that +they found, some portions of gold in Greenland, searched into, and +made bold use of the old Northern legend of _treasure hidden beneath +the Pole_; mountains of gold, guarded by Gnomes, &c., &c. And the +legend inflamed men's minds. Upon so reasonable a notion, sixteen +ships were sent out, having on board the sons and hopes of the noblest +families. There was quite a competition as to who should have leave to +go in quest of that Polar Eldorado; and those who sought it, +succeeded in finding only hunger, icy barriers, suffering, and--Death! +But that check was unavailing; during three hundred years, explorers, +with a perfectly marvellous perseverance, continued to explore, to +fail, to be martyrized, and to die. Cabot, the earliest of them, was +only saved by the mutiny of his crew, who would not allow him to go +any farther. Brentz died of cold, and Willoughby of famine. Cortereul +lost all, property, and life; and Hudson was set adrift by his men, +and, as he had neither sails nor provisions, it is but too probable +that he perished miserably, though his fate was never precisely +ascertained. Behring, in finding the strait which separates America +from Asia, perished of fatigue, cold, and want, on a desert island. In +our own day, Franklin perished, in the ice; he and his men having been +reduced to the most horrible cannibalism. + +Every thing that can discourage man, is combined in these Northern +voyages. Considerably before the Polar circle is reached, a cold fog +freezes upon the sea, and covers you with hoar frost; sails and ropes +are icy and stiffened, the deck is one sheet of glare ice, and every +manoeuvre is a work of immense difficulty; and those moving shoals, +the icebergs, that are so much to be dreaded, can scarcely be made out +at the distance of the ship's length. At the mast-head, the look-out +man, an actual living stalactite, every now and then warns the watch +upon deck of the approach of a new enemy, a huge white phantom, a +terrible iceberg, often from two to three hundred feet out of the +water. + +But these preliminary horrors, which announce to the seaman his +approach to the world of ice and suffering, so far from deterring, +increase his desire and determination to proceed. In the mystery of +the Pole, there is, I know not what, of sublime horror and heroic +suffering. Even those who have only gone as far North as Spitzbergen, +retain in memory a profound impression of its drear and horrible +sublimity. That mass of peaks, chains, and precipices, which, for four +thousand five hundred feet, rears its icy front, is like a gigantic +apparition, in that gloomy sea. Its glaciers flash forth living +lights, dazzling flashes of the most brilliant colors, green, blue, +and purple, contrasting marvellously with the uniform whiteness of the +snow. During the nights, whose duration is not of hours, but of +months, the _Aurora Borealis_, every now and then lights up the dreary +scene in the strange splendors of a sinister illumination; vast and +terrible bale fires, that, from time to time, light up the whole +horizon, forming, with their magnificent jets of lurid lights, a +fantastic Etna, that throws temporary and illusive light on that scene +of eternal winter. + +All is prismatic in an atmosphere surcharged with icy particles, where +the air is full of mirrors and little crystals. Hence, the most +astonishing mirages, rendering one uncertain whether he may take the +evidence of his own eyes as to the reality of any thing that he thinks +he sees. Merely aërial reflections and colored mists appear solid +masses, castles, cathedrals, islands,--anything; and what you see +upright at one moment, is upside down a moment afterwards. The strata +of air which produce these effects, are in constant revolution, the +lightest ascends above the others, and in an instant the mirage +changes form, color, size, and character. The slightest variation of +the temperature, lowers, raises, or slopes, the huge mirror; the image +becomes confounded with the object; they separate, disperse, another +succeeds, and then a third, pale and feeble, appears, to disappear in +its turn. + +It is a world of illusion. If you love to dream; if, especially, you +love day-dreaming, with fancies wild or tender, go to the North, and +there you will see real, yet no less fugitive, all that your waking +dreams have ever painted. In that world of mirages, the atmosphere +will put all your "castles in the air" to utter shame. No style of +architecture but that magical atmosphere can imitate. Now you have the +classic Greek, with its porticos and colonnades; anon, Egyptian +obelisks appear, the one pointing high and sharp, towards the sky, the +other lying prostrate, and in twain, at the base of the former. And, +then, mountain upon mountain appears, Pelion upon Ossa, a whole city +of giants, with Cyclopean walls, which change into the circular +sacrificial stones of the Druids, with dark, mysterious caves beneath. +Finally, all disappears; the wind rises, and the mists and atmospheric +reflections are dispersed. In this veritable world of the upside down, +the law of gravitation is repealed, or, at the least, disregarded; the +weak and the light, carrying the strong and the heavy; a spacious +church is seen on the top of a slender spire, an Egyptian pyramid +whirls, dances, upon the sharply pointed apex; it is an eccentric, a +mad, school of art, where you pass at once from the beautiful to the +terrible, from the terribly sublime to the absurdly fantastic. + +Sometimes a terrible incident occurs. Against the great stream, which +flows majestically and slowly from the north, there suddenly comes, +from the south, a huge iceberg, whose base is some six or seven +hundred feet below the water. It is impelled by the strong under-tow, +and advances so swiftly that it dashes aside, or to pieces, whatever +it happens to encounter. Arrived at the plain of ice, this moving +giant, this terrible iceberg is not at all embarrassed. Thus, Duncan, +writing in 1826, describes a scene of the kind--"The field-ice was +broken up for miles in less than a minute, with reports loud as those +of a hundred pieces of artillery. As the mountainous heap approached +us, the space between it and us was filled with the mighty masses, +into which the shock of her collision had broken up the massive field +ice. We should assuredly have perished, but the huge mass suddenly +sheered off to the northeast, and we were saved." + +It was in 1818, after the European war, that this war against nature, +this search after the north-western passage was resumed. It opened +with a serious and singular event. The gallant Captain Ross, being +sent with two ships into Baffin's Bay, was completely deceived by the +phantasmagoria of that world of spectral delusions. He distinctly saw, +as he thought, a land which has never existed, maintained that if he +proceeded he would certainly lay the bones of his ships on that +non-existent shore, and actually returned to England. There he was +laughed at, and accused of timidity, and he was refused by the +Admiralty, the command of another expedition, which he solicited, in +the interest of his honor. Sir Felix Booth, a London distiller and +liquor merchant, more liberal than the British Government, presented +Ross with a hundred thousand dollars, and Ross returned to the North, +determined to pass or die. Neither the one nor the other was granted +to him! But he remained during I know not how many winters, forgotten, +in those terrible solitudes. He had all the appearance of a mere +savage, so long and so horrible was his destitution, when he was saved +by some whalers, who, when they first saw him, asked him if he had, +by any chance, fallen in with _the late Captain John Ross_! + +His Lieutenant, Parry, who confidently believed that he could pass, +made four attempts to do so; trying first by Baffin's Bay and the +West, and then by Spitzbergen and the North. He made some discoveries +by boldly pushing forward in a sledge-boat; a sledge on the ice, and a +boat in the water. But the ice always defeated his bold attempts, and +he was no more successful than Ross. + +In 1882, a brave young Frenchman, Jules de Blassville, conceived that +France, in his person, might win the glory of discovering the +north-west passage. He risked, at once, money and life; and purchased +death. He could not even get the selection of a proper ship. They gave +him the _Lilloise_, which sprang a leak on her very first day out, and +he had her repaired and refitted, at his own cost of about eight +thousand dollars. In this unsafe vessel, he sailed for the iron-bound +coast of Greenland. According to all appearance, he did not get even +as far out as that. He has never since been heard of, nor has any +portion of his unseaworthy vessel been picked up. Most likely she +foundered, with all hands on board. + +The English expeditions have been fitted out in a very different +style; every thing was provided that prudence could suggest or +liberal-expenditure supply; yet they succeeded no better. The +gallant, scientific, and ill fated, Franklin, was blocked in by the +ice in 1845. For twelve years from that date the English, with an +honorable persistence, sent out expeditions in search of him. And not +England alone; France and America no less honorably assisted, and both +those great nations lost some of their brightest and best in the +brave, though fruitless, search. Side by side with the name of +Franklin, as connected with the icy peaks and capes of that desolate +region, our Belliot, and others, must be named, who devoted themselves +in hope to save him. And, on the other hand, Captain John Ross offered +to organize and lead an expedition to search for Blainville. Dark +Greenland is connected with a host of such brave, sad reminiscences, +and the desert is no longer quite a desert when connected with such +touching testimonies of _human brotherhood_. + +There is something very touching in the persistent belief, the +inflexible affection, of Lady Franklin. She could not, would not, +believe herself widowed, but incessantly besought for further search +after her brave husband. She vowed that she was quite sure that he +still lived for his country and for her; and so well did she impress +her own belief upon the Admiralty board, that, seven years after he +was completely missing, he was officially named, not as _Captain_, but +as Vice Admiral. And she was right; he was then still living. The +Esquimaux saw him in 1850, and he had then sixty of his men with him. +Very soon after he had only thirty, and those so worn by fatigue and +want that they could not hunt, or even walk, and as each one died he +was eaten by his far more wretched survivors. If Lady Franklin's +advice had been duly attended to, her brave husband and most, perhaps +all, of his men would have been Saved. For she said--and the soundest +sense dictated her words--that he should be sought for to the +southward, inasmuch as it was to the last degree improbable that in +his desperate situation he should aggravate it by proceeding towards +the North. But the Admiralty, perhaps more anxious about the +north-west passage than about the lost Franklin, persisted in sending +expeditions to the North, and the afflicted lady did for herself what +the Admiralty would not do for her. At a great expense, she fitted out +a vessel to search to the southward of his last known or presumed +position. But it was already too late. Only the bones of Franklin were +found. + +In the mean time longer, but more successful, voyages were made +towards the South pole. There we do not find the same commingling of +land and sea, ice and tempestuous thaws, that make up the great horror +of Greenland. There is a boundless sea of immense and mighty waves, +and a glacier far more extensive than ours of the North. Very few +islands; those which have been seen, or, rather fancied, have most +probably been only shifting and wandering icebergs. Everything there +varies with the varying character of the winters. Morel in 1820, +Weddell in 1824, and Ballery in 1839, found an opening, and made their +way into an open sea, which none since have been able to find. + +The French Kerguelen and the English James Ross have, undoubtedly, +discovered lands. The first, in 1771, discovered the large island +which he named after himself, but to which the English have given the +appropriate title of _Desolation_. Two hundred leagues in length it +has some excellent ports, and, in spite of the severity of the +climate, it is tolerably prolific in seals and birds, with which a +ship can be plentifully provisioned. That glorious discovery which +Louis XVI., on his accession, rewarded with a peerage, was, +subsequently the ruin of Kerguelen. False charges were brought against +him, and the rivalry of noble officers overwhelmed him, jealous rivals +with a hateful intrepidity, bearing false witness against him. It was +from a dungeon of six feet square that, in 1782, he dated the +narrative of his discovery. + +In 1838, America, France, and England each fitted out an expedition in +the interests of science. The illustrious Duperrey had pointed out the +way to important magnetic observations, and it was desired to continue +them under the very pole. The English expedition, with this object, +was entrusted to the command of James Ross, nephew and lieutenant of +the Captain John Ross of whom we have spoken. It was a model +expedition for which everything was foreseen, and provided, and James +Ross brought back his crew without having lost a man, or even had a +man sick. + +The American Wilkes and the French Dumont d'Urville were not thus +admirably fitted out; and perils and sickness scourged them fearfully. +James Ross, more fortunate, doubled the Arctic circle and found real +land; but he confesses, with a really admirable modesty, that he +chiefly owed his success to the admirable manner in which his +government had fitted him out. The _Erebus_ and the _Terror_ with +their powerful machines, their ice saw, and their iron shielded prow, +cut their way through the ice till they reached an open sea abounding +in birds, seals, and whales, and lighted up by a volcano of twelve +thousand feet in height, a northern Etna. But no vegetation, no +landing place, but an enormously high and sharply scarped granite upon +which not even the snows could retain their hold. But it _was_ land; +not a doubt of that. That Polar Etna, which they named after their +good ship Erebus, is there to prove it. + +A terrestrial nucleus, therefore, is girdled by the arctic sea. + +April and May of 1853, were a grand date in the history of the arctic +pole. + +In April that passage was found which had been so perseveringly and +vainly sought for during three centuries. The discovery resulted from +a bold stroke of desperation. + +Captain Maclure having made his way in by Behring's strait was, for +two years, shut in by the ice. Finding it impossible to return, he +determined, at all hazards, to push forward. He did so and in only +forty miles further found himself along side of English ships in the +Eastern ocean. His boldness saved him and the great problem was at +length solved. + +At that very time, May, 1858, New York sent out an expedition for the +extreme North. A young naval surgeon, Elisha Kent Kane, only about +thirty years old, but who had already sailed far and wide, announced +an idea which greatly excited the American mind. Just as Wilkes had +proposed to find a world, Kane proposed to find a sea, an open sea, +under the pole. The English, in their routine, had searched from East +to West; Kane proposed to sail due North and take possession, for his +country, of that, as yet, undiscovered open polar sea. The bold +proposal was enthusiastically hailed. Grinnell of New York, a great +ship owner, princely alike in fortune and in heart, generously gave +two ships; learned societies, and not a few of the general public, +assisted with pecuniary contributions, with a perfectly religious zeal +made up and contributed warm clothing. The crews, carefully selected +from volunteers, were sworn to three things; to be obedient to orders, +to abstain from spirituous liquors, and from profane language. A first +expedition failed, but its failure daunted neither Mr. Grinnell nor +the American public; and a second was fitted out, with the aid of +certain English societies, who had chiefly in view the propagation of +the gospel or a final search after Franklin. + +Few voyages are more interesting than this second one of Kane's. We +can readily understand the ascendancy which young Kane acquired over +his followers. Every line of his book is marked by his strength, his +brilliant vivacity, and his practical exemplification of the bold +American watchword--_Go ahead._ He knows every thing; is confident of +everything; prudent, hopeful, more than hopeful,--positive. Every line +tells you that he is a man to be conquered by no obstacle. He will go +as far as mortal man can go. The combat is curious between such a +character and the pitiless and icy North, that rampart of terrible +obstacles. Scarcely has he sailed when he is already seized by the +cold hand of winter and detained for six months amidst the ice. Even +in the spring he had a cold of seventy degrees! At the approach of the +second winter, on the 28th of August, nine out of his seventeen men, +deserted him. But the fewer his men and resources, the bolder and +sterner he became, being determined, as he tells us, to make himself +the better respected. His good friends, the Esquimaux, who hunted or +fished for him, and from whom he is even compelled to take some small +objects, stole three copper vessels from him. In return he kidnapped +two of their women. An excessive and savage chastisement. It was +hardly prudent to bring these poor creatures among the eight seamen +who still remained with him; all the less prudent when we consider +that discipline was already so much relaxed. They were married women, +too. Siver, wife of Metek, and Aninqua, wife of Marsiqua, were in +tears for five days. Kane laughed at them and makes us laugh too, when +he says: "They wept and made terrible lamentation; _but they did not +lose their appetite_." + +At length their husbands and friends took back the stolen articles and +took all that had passed in good part, with the native good sense of +men who had no weapons, but sharpened fish bones, to oppose to +revolvers. They agreed to every thing and promised the utmost +friendship and most faithful alliance. A week after, they disappeared +and we may easily imagine with what feelings of friendship! Of course, +wherever they went, they would warn the natives to shun the white man. +And thus it is that we close the uncivilized world alike against +ourselves and civilization. + +The sequel is sad. So cruel are the sufferings of the seamen that some +die and others want to return. But Kane is of quite another mind, he +has promised to discover a new sea, and discover it he will. Plots, +desertions, treacheries, all add to the horrors of his situation. In +the third winter he must have died, destitute as he was of food and +fuel, had not other Esquimaux supplied him with fish; he aiding them +by hunting. In the mean time some of the men, who had been out +exploring, had the good fortune to find that sea about which he was so +anxious. At least they reported that they had seen a vast extent of +open unfrozen water, and, all around, birds which seemed to find there +the shelter of a less severe climate. + +That was enough to warrant the return. Kane, saved by the Esquimaux, +who took no advantage either of their superior numbers or of his +extreme destitution, left there his vessel frozen up in the ice. + +Weak and exhausted, he yet contrived, in eighty-two days, to get back +to the South. But he got back only to die. That intrepid young man, +who approached nearer to the pole than any other man had ever done, +dying, carried off the prize which the learned societies of France +laid upon his tomb--the great geographical prize. + +In his narrative, which contains so many terrible things, there is one +which seems to me to be very touching. It enables us to estimate the +exceeding sufferings of such an expedition; I allude to the death of +his dogs. He had some excellent ones of the Newfoundland breed, and +some of the Esquimaux; they, rather than men, were his companions and +his friends. During his long winter nights, those nights of months, +they watched around his ship, and when he sallied out in the dense +darkness he recognized the brave brutes by their warm breath as they +came and licked his hands. + +The Newfoundlanders were the first to grow sick. He fancied that they +suffered less from the cold than from the privation of light; when the +lanterns were shown to them they seemed to revive. But, by degrees, a +strange melancholy grew upon them, and they went mad. Next followed, +in the same sad course, the Esquimaux dogs, and none remained but his +little slut, Flora, _the wisest_ little thing--as he calls her--and +she neither went mad nor died. I believe this is the only point, in +his fearfully interesting narrative, at which you can perceive that +that brave, stern heart, for an instant sank. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MAN'S WAR UPON THE RACES OF THE SEA. + + +On reviewing the whole history of Voyages, we are impressed by two +quite contrary feelings: + +1. We admire the courage and genius with which man has conquered the +seas, and dominated his whole planet. + +2. We are astonished to find him so unskilful in all that concerns the +conciliation of the inhabitants of the various seas and lands, that he +has conquered. Every where, the voyager has gone, as the enemy of the +young populations, whether human or brute, whether terrestrial or +maritime, which, properly treated, would have been, each in its own +limited sphere, so servicable to him. Man, as to the globe on which he +has made such grand discoveries, is like a musical novice, before some +immense Organ, from which he can produce but a few notes. Emerging +from the middle ages, after so much of philosophy and theology, he +still remained barbarous; of the sacred instrument, he only knew how +to break the keys. + +The gold seekers, as we have seen, sought only gold, nothing but that; +man they pitilessly crushed. Columbus, though the last of them, shows +this with a quite terrible plainness and simplicity, in his own +journal. His words make us shudder, anticipating, prophesying, as they +do, what would be done by his successors. No sooner has he landed in +Haiti, than he enquires, "where is the gold? Who has got gold?" The +natives smiled, in their innocent astonishment, at this fierce desire +for gold. They promised him that they would search for it for him, and +in the mean time, gave their rings and ornaments to satisfy the +earlier, that eager appetite. + +He gives us a most touching description of that unfortunate race, so +interesting for its beauty, its kindness, and its tender confidence. +But the Geonese, touchingly as he described that people, had his own +mission of avarice, his hard, stern habits of thought. The Turkish +wars, the atrocious galleys, and their wretched slaves, piracy and +manstealing, were the common life of that day. The sight of that +young, unarmed community, those poor, naked children, and lovely and +innocent women, inspired him only with the horrible mercantile +thought, that they might be very easily enslaved. + +He would not, however, consent to have them carried away from the +beautiful island; they and it, belonged, said he, to the King and +Queen, Ferdinand and Isabella. But he said these darkly and terribly +significant words--"They are timid and well fitted for obedience. They +will do whatever they are ordered to do; a thousand of them would +retreat before three or four of ours. If your Highnesses give me the +order to carry them off or to enslave them here, there is nothing to +hinder it; fifty men will suffice to do it." Thus wrote he in his +Journal, or Despatch, of 14 and 16, December. + +Presently came from Europe the wholesale sentence of that whole poor +innocent people. They were ordered to be the slaves of gold--all +subjected to compulsory labor, some to seek gold, and others to feed +the goldseekers. + +Columbus confesses that in twelve years, six sevenths of that once +happy population had perished; and Herrera adds that in twenty-five +years, that population had fallen from a million of souls to fourteen +thousand. + +What followed, is only too well known. The gold seeker and the planter +exterminated the natives and incessantly replaced them at the expense +of the negroes. And what has been the consequence? That in the low, +hot, immensely fecund countries, the black race alone, are permanent. +America will belong to that race; Europe has achieved precisely the +opposite of that which it intended. + +Every where, in all directions, the colonizing impotency of Europe +has displayed itself in America. The French adventurer has not +survived; he took thither no family, and did take thither all the +worst vices of his native land. As a natural consequence, instead of +civilizing the barbarians, he added their vices to his own, and sank +to their barbarous level. With the exception of two temperate +countries into which they went _en masse_, and in families, the +English have not been much more successful than the French in planting +their race permanently and healthily in transmarine colonies. In +another century, India will scarcely know that the Englishmen once +lived there. Have the Missionaries, whether Catholic or Protestant, +made any converts? Dumont, the thoroughly well-informed Dumont, tells +me--"_not one_!" + +Between them and us, there are thirty centuries and thirty religions. +Try to force their intellect, and the result will be that which the +truly great Humboldt observed in those American villages which are to +this day called "_Missions_;" that, having lost their own native +energies and traditions, without acquiring ours, they will sink into a +sort of stupefaction, become merely so many children of a larger +growth, alive in body, but dead in mind,--all but idiots, useless +alike to themselves and to others. + +Our voyages, upon which we moderns, and more especially the learned, +so plume ourselves, have they been really, or at all, servicable to +the savages? I really cannot see it. While, on the one hand, the +heroic races of North America have perished of hunger and +wretchedness, the soft, effeminate, gentle races of the South, perish, +too, to the great shame of our seamen, who, in that distant part of +the world, have thrown off even the very mask of decency. Population +at once kindly and weak, in whom Bourgainville discerned such excess +of complaisance, among whom the English Missionaries have gained much +profit, but not a single soul,--kindly and weak people, they are +perishing miserably beneath the double scourge of the worst vices and +the most loathsome diseases of the old world. + +Formerly, the long coast of Siberia was well peopled. Under that +terribly hard climate, the nomadic natives hunted the richly, the +preciously, furred animals which at once fed and clothed them. The +Russian despotism, at once strong and senseless, compelled them to +adopt the settled life of agriculturists, in a climate, and upon a +soil, where agriculture is an absurdity, an impossibility. The +consequence is that these peoples have gradually died off. On the +other hand, the trading spirit, that greedy and insatiable devourer, +has refused to spare the brutes in their breeding seasons, and as a +necessary consequence, the brutes have disappeared with the men; and +now, for a thousand miles along that coast, you have a terrible +solitude, where man hunts not, and where the brutes are not. The +winds may whistle shrilly, the frost may be bitter and biting as ever, +but there is neither man nor beast to listen to the one or to shudder +beneath the other. + +Had our voyagers to the North been truly wise, their very first care +should have been to form a good, firm friendship with the Esquimaux, +to mitigate their miseries, to adopt some of their children and have +them well instructed in Europe, and thus lay the foundation of a great +indigenous race of discoverers. We learn from Captain John Ross, and +from not a few others, that they are very intelligent, and very +readily acquire the knowledge and the arts of Europe. Marriages would +have been contracted between European sailors and the native women; a +mixed population would thus have sprung up, to which all that northern +portion of the American continent would have been "native and to the +manor born." And that would have been the, at once, safe and sure way +of discovering the much coveted North-western passage. Thirty years--a +single generation--would have done it effectually--and in three +hundred years it has been done only uselessly because you have +terrified those poor savages; because you have destroyed alike the man +of the soil and the _Genius Loci_. What is the use of merely seeing +that desert, when, in the very act of seeing it you make it either +depopulated or hostile? + +We may be quite sure that if man, civilized man, has thus ill treated +his uncivilized brother man, he has been neither more friendly nor +more merciful for the brutes. He has converted the gentlest and the +most affectionate of them forever, irreclaimably, into savage and +merciless foes to man. And man, civilized man, has done this. All the +old authors concur in telling us that when these poor brutes first +(most unluckily for themselves!) made the acquaintance of man, they +exhibited nothing but the most confident and inquisitive sympathy. He +could walk past and through whole families of Sea Cows and Seals, and +they never fled from him. The Penguins, and their kindred species, +followed him, begged a share of his shelter, yea, even nestled at +night beneath his garments. + +Our forefathers, quite justly, believed that, to a very great extent, +the animals feel and love, even as we do. Certain it is that they have +a singular and very decided taste for music. The very Shad, simple as +they seem, will follow you to the sound of bells; Valence tells us; +and Noël tells us that he has often seen the poor Whale, the Joubarde +roll and frolic around the bark, delighted with the music, and, +fearless of the _man_! + +What the poor, dumb creatures most enjoy; what they most possess of +intelligent life; what they have most been deprived of by dint of +human and very cruel persecution;--is the right, the security, the +sanctity of marriage! Fugitive and isolated, they now only retain that +which we, most cruelly, have left to them; temporary concubinage, that +miserable temporary concubinage which makes sterile every creature +that is subjected to it. + +Marriage, fixed, settled, faithful, is the very life of nature,--and +we find it in even the poorest living tribes on which man's tyranny +has not yet imposed unnatural laws. The Roebuck, the Pigeon, that +prettiest of the Parrot family, the "Love Bird," and hundreds of other +species, which we, in our profound ignorance and fancied learning, +despise, have this instinctive love of marriage. You may notice that, +even among the other and wilder birds and beasts, the matrimonial tie +is inseparable, at least, until the young family is old enough to take +care of itself. + +The Hare, in its timid and ever anxious life, the Bat, that strange +prowler in the dark night hours, are very very tender of their +families. The Crustaceæ, even, nay, even the very Poulpes have their +marital affection; take the female and the male is sure to be there, +to combat vainly, and to be taken with her. + +How much more, then, shall Love, the Family, _Marriage_, in the true +sense of that word, exist among our gentle, truly gentle, till +brutally persecuted, amphibious creatures! Slow, sedentary, attached +to home, how natural, how inevitable it is, that, the male should be +true to his mate,--and she to him! Among them the husband will die +for, or with, the wife, either for the young one. And, among them, +too, we find what we too often, only in vain look for among what we +presumptuously term the higher animals, the young one will boldly +leave its shelter and fight for the mother that has previously rescued +him. + +Steller and Hartwig mention a strange, an almost human scene enacted +in the family of the Otarie, another amphibious creature. The female +had allowed her young to be stolen from her. The male, furious, beat +her severely, and she grovelled and wept. + +The Whales, which have not the fixed abode of the amphibii, yet cross +the Ocean in couples. Duhamel and Lacepede say, that in 1723, two +Whales being attacked kept firmly side by side. One of them being +killed, the other, with terrible moanings of mingled despair and +grief, of sympathy and rage, threw itself upon the dead body of its +mate and died, rather than retreat. If there was in the world one +being which, even more than any other ought to have been spared, it +was the free Whale, that admirable creature so abounding in value; +that most inoffensive of all the creatures of the Ocean whose very +food is different from that of man. Excepting its terribly strong +tail, this creature has not even a weapon of defence. And, then, the +poor thing has such a host of enemies! Every one and everything seems +to be hostile to it. Its parasites establish themselves, not only on, +but in its vast gnawing, even its very tongue. The Narvel, with its +terrible tusks pierces it, the Dolphins gnaw it, and the bold, ever +hungry, swiftly swimming, Shark tears huge bleeding morsels from it. + +And, then, there are two blinded and ferocious foes that, in most +dastardly fashion, thin that inoffensive race even anticipatively; +killing the pregnant mother. First, there is the horrible Cachalot, +whose head makes a full third of its entire frame. This horrid +creature, with its crushing jaws, armed with forty-eight teeth, +literally eats the unborn young one. Man, still more cruel, causes the +poor creature a more prolonged suffering. The cruel harpoon, plunged +again and again into that quivering and sensitive body inflicts +suffering, such as we cannot even think of, without blushing for that +human nature of which we so often and so unblushingly boast. + +Dying slowly, and in the long agony of many wounds, and of many +convulsions, she writhes, shudders, lashes the sea into a mad foam +with her terrible tail, and, even as she dies, feels about with her +poor hand-fins, as though striving once more to embrace and caress her +little one. Something dreadfully human, as it seems to me, is that +death scene of the poor Whale! + +At this day we can scarcely even imagine what were the scenes of +butchery some two hundred years ago; while the Whales swam in shoals +and every shore swarmed with the amphibii. The enormous massacres +polluted the ocean with blood to an extent such as our human battles, +from the earliest day, cannot even begin to compare with. In a single +day, from fifteen to twenty Whales were killed, and fifteen hundred +Sea Elephants! And this was mere killing for the sake of killing. For +what was to be done with so many of those huge creatures, each of +which had so much blood and so much oil? What was the meaning of all +this cruel slaughter? What the result? Just simply, to redden and +pollute so many miles of the pure Ocean! To have the cold and cruel +enjoyment of most brutal tyrants; to watch, with cruel eye, the +lingering agonies and the fierce, but impotent struggles, of one of +God's noblest and most inoffensive creatures! Peron relates, with a +disgust which does him honor, that he saw a brutal sailor thus slowly +and brutally butcher a female Seal. She groaned and writhed like +something human; and whenever she opened her poor, bleeding mouth, he +dashed the oar into it, breaking her poor teeth at every thrust. + +Durville tells us that at the new Shetland isles, in the South Seas, +the English and Americans actually exterminated the Seals in four +years; killing, in their blind rage, alike the newly born and +parturient female, and often they killed only for the skin, losing +the vast and very precious amount of oil. + +Such slaughter as that is really a disgrace to our common humanity; +such butchery reveals a terrible, a loathsome, instinct, that makes us +shudder as we look around upon even our best and kindliest, and +reflect how soon and upon what slight temptation they, too, may become +cruel! On a smiling shore and among a notably amiable people, we +remember one of these murderous massacres to have taken place. Some +five or six hundred Tunnies were driven into a lovely bay that they +might be ignominiously murdered in a single day. The drag nets, so +vast that the capstan and the bars had to be brought into requisition, +to _heave_, rather than draw them in, brought the poor creatures into +that beautiful bay, to them, a veritable _chamber of death_, and all +around were bronzed, hardy, and cruel men, armed with harpoons and +pikes. And from distances of even twenty leagues around, fair +women--shame to our nature!--yea, women sat or stood to witness that +truly brutal butchery. The signal is given and the dastardly butchers +strike, and the pierced and bleeding victims writhe, bound, +agonize--as though they were human, and pitiless woman applauds the +prowess--Godwot!--of pitiless man! The waters, agitated by the vain, +though mighty struggle of the victims, is polluted and discolored with +blood and foam, and woman--Woman looks on this horrid scene and, when +the last victim has given its last gasp, sighs deeply and departs, +wearied, but not satisfied, and whispers--Is that all? And yet we call +ourselves only, "a little lower than the angels!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE LAW OF THE OCEAN. + + +A great and deservedly popular writer, Eugene Noël, who throws a +bright, broad light upon every subject which he touches, most truly +says, in his important work on Pisciculture, the following words: "We +might make the Ocean an immense food-factory, more productive than +even our earth itself, fertilizing and supporting everything, seas, +rivers, lakes, and Lands. Hitherto we have cultivated only the +lands--let us now cultivate the waters. Nations! Attention!" + +More productive than the land? Eh! How is that to be? + +M. Baude explains the matter very clearly, in his recently published +and very important work on Fishery. He shows very clearly that, of all +creatures, the fish consumes the least, and produces the most. Merely +to keep that creature alive, nothing, or next to nothing, is required. +Rondelet kept a carp three years in a bottle of water, and gave it +nothing save what it could extract from that water; yet, in that +time, it so increased in bulk that he could not get it out of the +bottle! The Salmon, during its stay, of two months, in fresh water, +scarcely feeds at all, and yet in that time scarcely loses flesh. Its +stay in salt water, during the same space of time, gives it the +enormous increase of six pounds in weight. How little that resembles +the slow growth of our land animals! If we were to pile up into one +heap all that it takes to fatten an Ox or a Pig, we should actually be +astounded at the amount of food required for the like increase of +weight. + +And, accordingly, those people whose demand most urgently presses upon +their power of supply, the Chinese, with their three hundred millions +of ever craving appetites, have directly applied themselves to the art +of promoting that great power of reproduction, that richest +manufacture of nourishing food. On all the great rivers of China, +prodigious multitudes find in the waters, the food which they would +but vainly ask from the land. Agriculture is always more or less +precarious; a blighting wind, a frost, the slightest accident, can +sentence a whole nation to all the horrors of Famine. But, on the +contrary, the living and teeming, the exulting and abounding, harvest +beneath the waters, nourishes innumerable families, and makes those +families almost as prolific and abounding as itself. + +In May, on the great central river of the Empire, a vast trade is +done in Fish _fry_, which is bought, sold, and resold, for the purpose +of stocking the fish-ponds of private persons, who feed their fish +from the mere offal of the household. + +The Romans,--so long ago!--had the same wise system;--only they, +sometimes, were barbarous enough to feed their fish with slaves! Bad +enough, that, and to spare; but at least they left us the precious +legacy of these words--"The spawn of the sea fish _can_ become fish in +fresh water." In the last century, a German, by the name of Jacobi, +discovered, or rather, revived, the art of _artificial fecundation_; +and, in our own century, and with still more productive effect, +France, copying from England, has done the same thing. A fisherman of +Bresse, Remy, has practised, since 1840, the art which has now become +European. + +Taken in hand by such men as Coste, Pouchet, &c., this art has ceased +to be merely empirical--it has become _a Science_. Among other things, +it has become known that there are certain regular connections between +the salt and the fresh water; the fish from the former, coming, at +certain seasons, to spawn in the latter. The Eel, wherever bred, as +soon as it has the thickness of a needle, hastens to ascend the river, +and in such numbers that it actually whitens the whole stream. This +treasure, which, if properly taken care of, would give many thousands +of pounds of the most nutritious food is unworthily, shamefully, +destroyed; sold as so much mere manure. The Salmon is no less +faithful; invariably it comes from the sea back to the river in which +it had its birth. Mark hundreds of them, and not one of them shall be +missing. Their love of their native river is such that they will even, +(see the _Salmon Leaps_ of Scotland, Ireland, and Northern England) +_leap_, springing from the tail, over seemingly insurmountable +obstacles! Such are the Fish! + +Upon land, we take care of our _Horses_; why not PRESERVE THE SEA? Why +not _protect the breeding Season of the Ocean_? The young and the +pregnant females, should be held sacred, more especially as to those +species which are not superabundantly productive, such as the Cetacæ, +and the Amphibii. To kill, is a necessity of our nature, our teeth and +stomach sufficiently testify to that; but that very necessity obliges +us to preserve life. + +On the land, we feed and protect our flocks and herds. But for the +food and protection which we give to them, most of them would not +exist at all, or would have been devoured by wild beasts. We have a +right, or at least, a plausible excuse, for killing them, but we take +care to spare the young and the pregnant. + +In the seas there are still more young lives annihilated when we +depart from this law of _preserving_ that we may the more plentifully +kill. We may, if we prudently as well as mercifully so will it, make +the generation of the inferior animals, an element almost infinitely +productive. In our seas and rivers, chiefly, it is, that Man appears +the Magician. High time it surely is, that he should unite to his +power both kindness and wisdom. He is in reality, the opponent of +death; for, though appetite compels him to kill, his skill and care +can create torrents of teeming life. + +As regards those precious species which, foolishly, as well as +cruelly, we have almost annihilated, and especially for that greatest +and most precious life of all, the Whale, there should be an absolute +peace, for at least half a century. That great, that really +magnificent species, will then repair its losses. Being no longer +persecuted, it will return to the temperate zone, which is its natural +climate, where it will find its natural food in the abounding +animalculæ of the comparatively warm waters. Being thus restored to +its natural climate and its natural food, it will regain its old +gigantic proportions. Let the old rendezvous of their Love be held +sacred, and again we shall see the Leviathan, the whale of two or +three hundred feet long. Let this magnificent creature's haunts be +respected, especially in its breeding season, and in half a century it +would be as plentiful as of old. Formerly it abounded in a bay of +California. Why not make that bay sacred to it? Then it would not seek +shelter among the horrid glaciers of the pole. Let us respect their +reason of Love, and enormous will be the benefit to ourselves. + +Peace! I say again; peace for the Whale, the Sea-Cow, the +Sea-Elephant; peace for all those precious species which man's +inhumanity has so nearly crushed out of existence. A long, a sacred +peace should be granted to them; like that which the Swiss so wisely +granted to the Chamois, which, when almost extinct, was thus rendered +numerous as ever. For all, whether Fish or Amphibii there is needed a +season of perfect rest, like the _Truce of God_, which in the olden +day prevented the chivalry of Europe from butchering each other. + +These creatures themselves instinctively comprehend what we either +know not or neglect; for, at their season of maternity, they lose +their timidity, and venture to our shores, as though certain that at +such a season, they will be held sacred. At that season, they are in +their greatest beauty a id their greatest strength. Their brilliant +color and their flashing phosphorence indicate the utmost vigor of +their existence, and in every species that is not menacingly +superabundant, that season of reproduction should be respected. Kill +them afterwards? By all means--but pray do not anticipatively kill in +the one fish a whole shoal of fishes. + +Every unoffending creature has a right to the moment of happiness, to +that moment when the individual, however lowly placed, goes beyond +the narrow limits of his individual _Self_, and from his dark +individuality, glances into and feels the Infinite Future. + +And let us aid Nature; then shall we be blessed, from the lowest +depths to the starry heights; then shall we receive the blessing +glance of that God who hath made both great and small, and who has +commanded us to imitate Him. + + + + +BOOK FOURTH. + + THE RESTORATION OF THE SEA. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ORIGIN OF SEA BATHING. + + +The Sea, so ill treated by man, in this pitiless warfare, has been to +him most generously kind. When Earth, which he loves so much, when +that rude Earth wears, weakens, exhausts him, it is that so much +feared, so much abused Sea, which takes him to her bosom, and restores +him to new life. + +And, in fact, is it not from her that life primitively sprang? She +contains within her all the elements of life in a quite marvellous +plenitude. Why, then, when we feel ourselves sinking, do we not repair +for restoration to the abounding source of life? + +That source has space and kindness enough for all, but is especially +kind to the too civilized children of men, for the sons and daughters +who are suffering for the fathers and mothers, victims of mistaken or +sinning Love, less culpable than the sinning parents, yet a thousand +fold more punished. The Sea, that vast female, delights to restore +them; to their weakness she gives her strength; and restores them +young, beautiful, healthful, from the boundless stores of her wide +expanse and fathomless depths. Venus, who was born of Ocean, is from +Ocean reborn every moment, and not a sick, suffering, peevish, pale, +and melancholy Venus, but the triumphant, Venus full of passion and +certain of fecundity. + +How between this great and salutary, but somewhat rude, strength and +our weakness, can there be any connection? What union can there be +between elements so greatly disproportioned? That was a serious and +difficult question; to solve it required an art, an initiation. To +understand that question thoroughly, we must make ourselves acquainted +with the time and occasion when this art first revealed itself. +Between two ages of strength, the strength of the age of the +Renaissance and that of the Revolution, there was a period of +depression both moral and physical. The old world had died, the new +one was not yet born, and the misbegotten children of worn out parents +were weak and unhealthy. On the one hand, the excessive indulgence of +the rich; on the other hand, the awful privations of the poor, +decimated the nations, and most decimated, precisely those nations +which most boasted their civilization. France thrice ruined, from base +to apex, in a single century succumbed beneath the orgies of the +Regency. England triumphed over our ruin, yet had death and +destruction within her own bosom. Her Puritan idea had departed, and +another had not yet come. Weakened by the fierce lusts of Charles II., +she was still farther degraded by the paltry briberies of Walpole; and +in the debasement of the Public the worst passions of the Individual +came to light. The fine book of _Robinson_ exhibits the horrors of the +terrible Lust of Strong Drink;--a terrible book, that, in which +Medicine calls to its aid all the denunciations of Religion, and +denounces the gloomy suicide of celibatism. + +Anxieties, evil habits, effeminate and unwholesome life;--all these +betray themselves in the softened tissues, the meagre forms, the +horrid scrofula. Lovely complexions cover the most vile diseases. Anne +of Austria, renowned for her extreme clearness of complexion, died of +loathsome ulcer; the Princess of Soubise, that dazzlingly fair beauty, +rotted, so to speak, into her grave. In England, the Duke of Newcastle +asked the learned Doctor Russell why it was that the beautiful Lily +and Rose concealed so much of scrofula. + +It rarely happens that a worn out race recovers itself; but the +English did so. For some seventy or eighty years it recovered a +wonderful strength of activity. Partly it owed its recovery to its +political and social disturbances,--for there is nothing so conducive +to health as movement; but it must be confessed that the chief cause +of its renovation was its change of habits. It changed in +everything,--education, food, medicine; all were changed, for all felt +that health and strength were necessary to success in anything and +everything. + +There needed no great genius for such a Reform; the true theory had +been propounded; all that was necessary was to make the Science an +Art, to _practise_ what hitherto had only been _preached_. The +Moravian, Comenius, writing a century before Rousseau, said: "Return +to Nature; educate according to Nature;" the Saxon Hoffman said: +"Return to Nature; make her your Physician." Hoffman appeared just in +time to combat the evils caused by the orgies of the Regency, evils in +which the remedies were as bad as the disease, the Physician as fatal +as the Quack. Hoffman truly said to his age--"Leave Doctors alone; +live temperately, drink water, and you will need no medicines." That +was a true moral reform. And thus among ourselves, Priessnith in 1830, +after the Bacchanalia of the Restoration imposed upon the luxurious +aristocracy of Europe the coarse food of the peasant, and, in the hard +northern climate, the open air bath, in snow water; that Hell of cold +which, in its reaction, gives such a glow of heat. And the rich and +the delicate submitted to this hard discipline; so great is our human +love of life and fear of death. + +And, in fact, why should not water be the safety of man? Berzelius +assures us that four-fifths of our living frames are water; just as +four-fifths of our globe are covered by Oceans, Seas, Lakes, and +Rivers. For our arid Earth the Sea is a constant Hydropathist, curing +it of its otherwise deadly dryness, and nourishing and beautifying its +fruits and flowers. Strange and prodigious magician, that same water! +With so little, making so much; with so little, destroying so +much--destroying so slowly, but so surely! + + _Gutta lapidem cavat, non vi, sed stepe cadendo_; + "The plastic globule wears the rugged rock, + By frequent falling, not by sudden shock." + +Water is at once the most potent and the most elastic of all forces, +lending her aid to all the metamorphoses of our globe, covering, +penetrating, transforming all around us. + +Into what frightful desert, into what gloomy forest, will not man +penetrate in search of the healing springs which boil up from the +bosom of the earth? What a perfectly superstitious belief we have in +those springs which bring to us the hidden and healing virtues! I have +seen fanatics who had no Deity but Carlsbad, that wonderful meeting of +the most contradictory waters. I have seen the worshippers of Bareges, +and I confess that I have myself submitted to the gushing and +sulphureous waters of Acqui in their strange and almost animal +pulsations. The hot baths of earth have no medium in their action; +they are either certain health or certain death. How many sufferers +who might have lingered through weeks, months, or even years, have +been quickly slain by them! Frequently, those potent waters give a +sudden revival, and, together with health, bring back the very +passions which caused disease; passions hot as the waters which +revived them. The very atmosphere above these sulphureous waters is +intoxicating, the _aura_ of the Sybil that maddened her into Prophecy! +An outburst which compels us to speak that which we would most +conceal. And how terribly self-revealing we are in those Babels to +which, under the plea of seeking health, we resort to throw aside the +conventionalities, in too many cases the very decencies of Society. +There, pale, worn sufferers, of both sexes, sit at the gaming table in +eager passion to win gold, and, in reality, winning only an earlier +Death. + +Very different is the saving breath of the great Sea; in itself it is +a purifier. That never ceasing interchange of the ocean of air, and +the ocean of water, forbids life ever to languish. Early and late, +those oceans of air and sea are at work. At every instant each passes +through the crucible of death--and at every instant revives. The +whirlwind and the water spout give newer and stronger life to the +vexed ocean. + +To live on land is to repose; to live on sea is to combat, and to +combat savingly;--for those who can bear it, a Spartan training in +which many perish, but those who survive are very strong. + +In the middle ages there was a perfect horror of the Sea. They +libelled the great Sea, they called that fertile mother "the kingdom +of the prince of the powers of air"--the very name which was given to +Satan. The nobility of the seventeenth century would by no means +consent to have its palaces near the huts of the rude seamen. The +frowning castle, with its ugly and formal garden, was almost always +built, as far as possible from the sea, on some place destitute of sun +and air, but marvellously rich in fog and miasmata. In England it was +just the same. If the manor house was on a hill, the advantage of the +situation was sedulously provided against by a forest of tall trees, +and quite as often, instead of being on the hill, it was in the +pestilent marsh below. At the present day, England, wiser than of old, +builds by the sea side, rejoices in sea baths even in winter, and is +rewarded by strong health. The people of the sea coasts better knew, +even in earlier times, the life-giving power of the sea. Its purifying +power first struck them; they observed its power in curing scrofula of +its disgusting sores, and they well knew the power of its bitterness +in killing the parasite worms which, otherwise, would kill the child. +They ate the Sea weed and the _Halcyonia_, well knowing that the +iodine that they contain contracts and makes firm the flesh. Russell, +who heard and noted these popular recipes, was thus enabled to answer +the question of the Duke of Newcastle, and did so in his excellent +book, published in 1750, on the use of Sea water in cases of glandular +wasting. + +There is a great force in his sentence--"The great want is not how to +cure, but how to repair, _to create_." + +He proposed a miracle, but a quite possible one; to make new flesh, +new tissues. And he proposed to do that chiefly with the child, who, +though born of polluted parents, might yet be re-made. + +It was at the same time that Bakewell, the Leicestershire farmer, +_created_ meat. Up to that time horned cattle were chiefly valued for +their milk, from his day forth they are made to yield a more generous +food. The poor milk diet, in fact, had to be abandoned by men who are +compelled to be so active, so laborious, so untiring. Russell's little +book, in 1750, created Sea bathing; it is not too much to say he +created it, for it really was he who made it in vogue. + +This whole grand theory may be summed up in a very few words: + +"It is necessary to drink sea-water, to bathe in sea-water, and to eat +sea-weed; clothe your children as lightly as possible, and let them +have plenty of air. The Ocean breeze, and the Ocean water; there you +have the sure cure." + +That last advice seems very bold. To have the half naked child exposed +to the open air in a damp and variable climate, is, no doubt, +anticipatively, to lose the weak; but the strong will survive, and +their posterity will be the better brought up. Let us add that +business, and navigation, by earlier relieving the boys from school, +from the sedentary life of the young nobles at Oxford or Cambridge, +make them a new race. + +In his ingenious book, guided only by popular tradition, Russell +doubtless was far enough from suspecting how, in a single century, all +science would come to the aid of his theory, and that each would aid +him in making of the Sea a perfect system of Therapeutics. + +The most valuable elements of terrestrial life are abundantly in the +sea; and science may well say to us--"Hither! Hither, worn and wearied +nation, swinked laborer, failing woman, young child, fading because +your parents sinned; hither! to the Sea, and the Sea shall cure you!" +The universal base of life, the embryonic mucus, the living animal +jelly in which man continually takes and retakes the marrowy substance +of his being, is so abounding in the sea that we may call it the sea +itself. Of that mucus, both marine animals and marine vegetables are +made. Her generosity puts earth to shame. She is liberal to give, be +ye therefore, willing to receive. + +"But," it maybe said, "we are attacked in the very foundation and +support of our being. Our bones bend, bow, and we are weak, and +tottering from their insufficient nurture." Well! The lime which they +need abounds in the sea; so abounds that her madrepores build islands +of it, and are at this moment building whole continents. Her fishes +carry it hither and thither in such vast quantity that, washed upon +every shore, it serves as a manure. + +And you, young female, you who, visibly, are wasting into an early +grave, repair to the sea, where every breath you draw shall be a +restorative. That restorative iodine, is in every breath that blows, +in every wave that heaves, in every fish that swims. The Cod alone +have enough to iodise the entire earth. + +Is it animal warmth that you lack? The sea affords you the most +perfect, the most equable, the most widely diffused warmth; warmth so +great, in fact, that were it not diffused, it would melt the earth +from Pole to Pole, and make each Pole another Equator. + +The rich, warm, red blood, is the triumph of the Sea; by it she has +animated and armed with mightiest strength her giants, so much +mightier than mightiest giants of the earth. She has made that +element, and she can remake you, poor, pale, drooping flower. She +abounds, superabounds, in that rich red blood; in her children it so +abounds that they give it forth to every wind. + +And there is the revelation of the whole mystery. All the principles, +pale mortal, that are combined in you, she has in separation. She has +your bone, your blood, your sap and your heat--in one or the other of +her creatures, she has them all. + +And she has, also, what you have not, a superabundant strength. Her +breathing gives I know not what of inspiring excitement; of what we +may call physical heroism. With all her violence, the great generating +element inspires us with the same fiery vivacity, the same wild love, +with which she herself palpitates. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +CHOICE OF COAST. + + +Earth is her own doctor; every climate has its own remedy. More and +more will Medicine lie in Emigration. But it must be an Emigration of +foresight, not one of those mad-cap, rapid, and most mischievous +journeys in which the patient rushes from one extreme of climate to +another, but prudently calculated to the obtaining of those vivifying +aids which nature every where holds in store for those who know how to +profit by them. The youth, that is yet to be born, depends upon these +two things--the _Science of Emigration_ and the _Art of +Acclimatization_. Hitherto, man has remained a prisoner like an oyster +on its rock. If he occasionally emigrates to some small distance from +his temperate zone, he, for the most part, goes to die. He will only +become free, really brave, when the science and art of Emigration and +Climatization shall make him free of the whole globe. + +Few diseases are cured in the place and under the circumstances which +have given rise to them; they hold to certain habits which the +localities perpetuate and render unconquerable. There is no Reform, +physical or moral, for those who persist in the originating vice. + +Medicine, guided by the auxiliary sciences, directs us in the new road +to the desired end. Our emigrations must be made prudently and +gradually. Can we, safely, without preparation, without alteration of +diet and of habits, be suddenly removed from an inland to a maritime +abode? Can we prudently take to the sea-bath until the sea breeze +shall have trained our physical frame? Can we suddenly and without +preparation encounter the severe shock, the horripilation of the +really tremendous shock of the cold water bath in the cold open air? +These questions we are glad to say are more and more being put and +answered by our physicians. + +The extreme rapidity of our railroad journeys is very mischievous even +to the strong;--in many cases fatal to the ailing. To pass, as so many +do, from Paris to the Mediterranean in twenty-four hours, passing at +every hour into a different climate, is as perilous a thing as a +nervous person can do. You arrive agitated, giddy. When Madame de +Sevigné took a whole month to travel from Brittany to Provence, she +proceeded by slow and calculated degrees from one climate to another, +and its opposite. She proceeded, by slow degrees, from the maritime +climate of the West into the inland climate of Burgundy. Then, +travelling slowly by the upper Rhone into Dauphiny, she, with the +greater safety and comfort, braved the free winds of Valence and of +Avignon; then, halting awhile, and resting at Aix, in the interior of +Provence, far from the Rhone and from its shores, she made herself +Provençal in lungs. + +France has the enviable advantage of being between two seas, and +thence the facility of alternating, as the disease may require, +between the saline tonicity of the Mediterranean and the moister +and--except in case of tempest--the far milder air of the Ocean. + +On each of the two coasts there is a graduated scale of stations, more +or less mild, more or less strengthening. It is very interesting to +observe, and very useful to follow, this double scale,--proceeding, as +a general thing, from weaker to stronger. + +The climate of the Ocean parting from the strong, rough, ever-heaving +waters of the channel, becomes extremely mild at the South of +Brittany, milder still in the Gironde, and mildest of all in the +land-locked basin of Arcachon. + +The air of the Mediterranean, which we may call circular, has its +highest note in the dry, though keen, climate of Provence and Genoa, +becomes more mild as you approach Pisa, milder and less variable in +Sicily, and at Algiers attains a wonderful mildness and regularity. +And on your return be sure of a balmy air at Majorca and the little +ports of the Rousillon, so well sheltered from the harsh north wind. + +The Mediterranean commands our admiration by two characteristics; the +beauty of its shores and the brilliant purity of its sky and +atmosphere. Very salt, very bitter is that sea; but what a glorious +blue sky is above it! It gives out by evaporation about thrice as much +water as it receives from all its tributary rivers. It would become +all salt, like that terrible Dead Sea, but for the lower currents, the +under-tow, like that from Gibraltar, for instance, were not constantly +tempering it with the waters of the Ocean. + +All that I have seen of its shores are beautiful, though somewhat +stern. Nothing common-place about those shores. The volcanic, the +lurid bale fires of the lower earth, have everywhere made their mark +upon the upper earth; those dark Plutonic rocks are never tiresome +like the marshy sands of other shores. If the famous Orange woods +sometimes seem somewhat monotonous, they compensate you when here and +there, a sheltered spot, you find the true African vegetation, the +Aloe and the Cactus, the hedge of Myrtle and Jessamine, and the wild +and perfumed landes. Above, it is true, bald and frowning mountains +loom, and their long offshoots run even into the very sea. + +"It seemed to me," said a traveller, "that I was between two +atmospheres; the air above, and the air below." He describes the +varied world of plants and animals which were reflected by the crystal +mirror of that deep blue sea of Sicily. I was less fortunate off +Genoa, where, gazing into the depths, I saw nothing but a desert. The +dry and sterile rocks, the volcanic framing of the shores, dark as +midnight, or of a still sadder and more ghastly and ghostlike white, +showed me nothing but antique sarcophagi--reversed churches, reminding +one, at times, of the cathedrals of Florence, or the leaning tower of +Pisa. Sometimes, also, I seemed to see "strange monsters of the deep." +Whales? Elephants? I do not know; but of real life not a trace. + +Such, however, as that beautiful sea is, it admirably nerves and +hardens the dwellers on its shores, and the sailors on its bosom; it +makes at once the most fiery and the most solid of races. Our giants +of the North, are, perhaps, stronger, but certainly are not more +enduring, and, as certainly, they do not so readily, or so safely +acclimatise, as the seamen of Genoa, of Calabria, or of Greece, +bronzed as they are, not by an accident of the skin, but by the +permeation, the imbibation of the Sun's rays. A friend of mine, a +learned physician, sends his pale patients from Paris or Lyons to take +their Sun-baths in the South, and himself lies nude on the rocks, for +hours together. He has only his head covered; as to all the rest of +his person, he is bronzed as an African. + +The really sick will go to Sicily, to Algiers, to Madeira, in search +of health. But the restorative of the pale, worn populations of our +great cities, is best to be found in the more varied and more +strengthening climates of the country which has given to Earth its +most iron humanity, its heroes by sea and by land, and in the council +chamber--that truly iron race of the Columbuses, the Dorias, the +Massenas,--and the Garibaldis. + +Our extreme Northern ports, Dunkirk, Boulogne and Dieppe, where the +winds and waters of the Channel meet, are also a great nursery of +renewed life, and restored strength. That great breeze and that great +sea, might recall one from the grave. You may see there perfectly +incredible recoveries. Go there without any real and vital wound, and +you recover on the instant. The whole human machine acts strongly; +digests well, breathes freely. You need not even strive for health +when there, for nature says to you, as Tully said to Atticus, _Jubeo +valere_,--_I command you to be well_. The sturdy vegetation that +flourishes upon the very margin of the sea, seems to rebuke our +weakness. Each of the little ports which pierce our Norman coast, is +swept by the nor' westerly wind, which strengthens and revives us; +but grows less violent, though not less salubrious, at the mouth of +the Seine, beneath the fruitful orchards of Honfleur and Trouville. +The good river, sweeping away to the left, carries with it a softer +and gentler air. Higher up, you meet the strong, the sometimes really +terrible, sea of Granville, Saint-Maloes, and Cancale, about the best +of naval schools for young folks, a school which will make the strong +still stronger. + +But if, on the contrary, we have to deal with some weakling, some +young child, born to weakness, or some young mother, made weak by too +frequent parturition, we must select some milder shelter. And such a +warm and always calm shelter, you will find, without going further +South, among the sleepy little isles and peninsulæ of Morbihan. These +isles form a labyrinth more perplexed than that in which the English +king sheltered his fair Rosamond. Entrust your own treasure to that +shelter, and none shall know of her save the Druidic rocks and the +handful of fishermen who inhabit those at once wild and gentle shores. +Does some gentle patient ask us on what people live, in those marine +solitudes? We reply, upon Fish, Fish--still Fish! It is not far from +St. Gildas, where the Bretons assure you that Heloise sought her +Abelard. They contrive to live there as cheaply and as well as +Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday. + +Places more civilized and attractive are to be found farther South, +such as Pornice, Royan, Saint George, Arcachon, &c. + +I spoke elsewhere of Saint George's, bordered by many a bitter and +precious plant; and Arcachon, too, is as attractive, with its resinous +and wholesomely pleasant odor of its pine woods. But for the worldly +rush from that great and Wealthy Bordeaux, but for that flood of +health seekers, which pours into it at certain seasons, it is at +Arcachon that we would shelter the dearly beloved patient, that dear +and delicate creature for whom we fear the rush and crush of the hard +working day world. That place, as long as we contemplate it only +within the inner basin, offers the contrast of an absolute and very +deep calm with a terribly rough sea close by. Beyond the lighthouse is +the terrible Gascon sea, within the bay a lazy tide, so lazy that you +cannot hear its murmurs, as low, as light, as the quiet tread of +lady's gentle footstep on the sea-weed carpet of that strand. + +In an intermediate climate which is neither North nor South, neither +Brittany nor Vendëe, I have visited again and again, and always with +pleasure, the pretty and staid shelter of Ponice, with its frank +seamen and its pretty girls, with their conical hats. It is a pretty +quiet little place, which, protected as it is by the island (rather +the peninsula) of Noirmantiers, receives only a slanting and +exceedingly well behaved sea; that enters silken in its softness. And +in that bay of several leagues, these creeks, with sloping shores, +made, as it would seem, on purpose for baths for women and children, +they are so sheltered and so safe. Those nice sandy beaches, parted by +such sheltering rocks, conceal so much, and yet reveal so much of the +sea life, the plain, blunt, yet ever kindly and courteous life of the +seaman! But if those sheltering rocks do much good, they also do no +little injury. The sheltered creek and safe haven, keeps out the +Tempest;--but, it also keeps out the fishes. By little and little, but +very regularly, the grand rush and the grand murmur of the sea are +kept out, and yet, that half silence has a very great charm. No where +else have I so much welcomed, or so richly enjoyed, that great luxury +of the undisturbed Day-dreaming. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE HOUSE. + + +Permit an ignoramus who, yet, has paid a pretty high price for what he +_does_ know, to give you some quiet advice upon certain points upon +which books, hitherto, have told you little and Doctors nothing. That +this advice may come the more directly to both head and heart, I will +address them to an imaginary patient. Imaginary? Not so; I have met +such a patient many times. + +You meet a young lady seriously ill, or manifestly about to be so, she +is very weak, and her young child is weaker still. The Winter has been +hard upon them, and the Spring still harder. Yet it is only +weakness;--lassitude, the _tedium vitæ_ which Byron truly calls "more +terrible than death itself." And she is sent to the sea-side for the +Summer. + +A great expense, that, for a fortune below even mediocrity; painful +moving for the mistress of a family; hard separation, above all, for +husband and wife who truly love each other. They bargain, they would +fain shorten that separation. Would not one month be enough? But the +wise Physician knows better, and says it would _not_; he well knows +that a very short sojourn at the sea side is far more likely to injure +than to benefit. The sudden, the severe shock of the sea bath is +likely enough to injure even the strong; to the feeble it is simply +murderous. You should first breathe the sea air;--acclimatize +yourself. Do this during the month of June, then you shall have July, +August, September, and, in some seasons, even October for your baths, +and the bath and the great, strong, keen winds will harden your frame +against the fast approaching Winter. + +Few men are free during the whole Summer; happy the husband who can be +away from the thronged city to pass a couple of the Summer months at +the sea side with his suffering wife. However much he may feel +inclined to sacrifice every secondary interest for her, it is for her +interest that he must remain in the counting house or the factory. +There are strong links in the chain of our daily life which we may +not, which we cannot, break. Therefore, the wife must go alone; and, +for the time, behold them loving, and yet divorced. Shall I give you +my opinion? _Let_ her go alone; better for her than if she went in the +train of some rich luxurious family. + +That gregarious travel and gregarious abode have their pleasures, no +doubt; but, also, they have their evils. In such cases we are apt +either to become enemies, or, which is still worse in the case of +woman, to become too friendly. The style of life at a watering place +sometimes, and not seldom produces results which we regret through the +whole remainder of life. In my opinion the smallest inconvenience of +that gregarious watering-place life (smallest but very far from small) +is that the very people who alone would be both morally and physically +benefited by the sea, lose all that benefit by carrying to the solemn +shore the frivolity, the late hours, the false gaiety of the great +town. + +Alone we think; in the crowd we gossip and scandalise. The great and +the rich lead the young and suffering female into their own +dissipations, and the consequence is that she has by the sea shore a +really more mischievous excitement than she would have had in Paris, +or London, Saint Petersburgh or New York, and will entirely lose the +end for which, loving husband, you sent her thither. Reflect upon it, +young woman, be courageous, but also be prudent. It is in an innocent +solitude that you may, if you will, enjoy with your child, that you +will most surely find the renewed health and strength that you so much +desire. In that infantine, pure, but noble and poetic life, I again +assure you, it is that you will find restoration. Believe me the +delicate and tender justice which makes you fear expense, while he at +home is toiling so hard, will well repay you. The old Ocean will love +you the better if you love only it, and will lavish upon you its great +treasures of health and youthfulness. Your child will flourish like a +young bay tree and you shall increase in grace and beauty; and you +will return to your far home youthful and dearly beloved. + +She resolves, she departs, for a place, the waters of which are well +known by chemical analysis to have the qualities suited to her case. +But there are many local circumstances which cannot be known or even +guessed at from a distance. The Doctor who recommends particular +waters seldom knows the place, though he knows the waters. + +For some of the more important watering places Guides have been +published which are not without merit, so far as they point out the +particular diseases for which particular waters are suited. But very +few give details which enable one to choose between a healthy and +unhealthy, a pleasant and an unpleasant, situation. They do not +venture upon such particulars as would enable one to choose between +places as well as between waters, but confine themselves to so general +a eulogy of the latter as to leave us in the dark as to the former. + +What is the precise exposition? Look at the map and you perceive that +the coast slopes to the South, but even this tells you nothing; for +it may chance that a peculiar curve of the land may place your house +under a cold or damp influence, from a Northern or Western exposure. + +Are there any marshes in the neighborhood? In most cases the answer +must be, yes. But the difference is very great whether the marshes be +salt and renewed, and made salubrious by the sea, or whether they be +stagnant marshes of fresh water which after droughts emit feverish +miasmata. + +Is the sea very pure, or mixed? And in what proportion? A great +mystery. For nervous persons, however, for novices just commencing +with salt water bathing, the mildest are the best. A sea, somewhat +mixed, an air less salt and keen, and a less desolate shore, having +some of the charms of the country, are the best recommendations. + +A grave point is the choice of a house; and who shall direct you as to +that? No one. You must see for yourself; you must observe all the +particulars on the spot. You will learn little from persons who have +visited or even lived there. They praise or condemn this or that place +not on account of its real merit, but according to the pleasure they +have enjoyed or the friends they have made there. They recommend you +to some of those friends who receive you admirably; at first you are +delighted, but in a short time you discover many inconveniences, and +sometimes the house is even dangerously unhealthy. Yet you do not like +to leave it, lest you should mortify both those who recommended you +and the kind and amiable family who so hospitably received you. + +"Well, then," you say, "I will ask no recommendation, but on reaching +the place I will consult an honest and skilful doctor who will be able +to enlighten me." Honest! that is not enough, he must also be very +intrepid to tell you frankly any of the bad qualities of the place, +for he would be a ruined man, he would take leave of the whole place, +would live as solitary as a wolf; and, indeed, would be lucky if some +personal injury were not done to him. + +I have a perfect horror of the absurdly flimsy houses which +speculators build in our variable climate. These pasteboard erections +are so many dangerous traps. In the full heats of Summer such bivouacs +are all well enough, but often one has to remain in September and +October amid the high winds and the torrents of rain. + +For themselves the landlords build good substantial houses, but for +poor patients they build chalets of wood, ill closed, and not even +moss-covered, like the Swiss chalets. It really is treating us quite +too ill. + +In those villas, apparently luxurious, but in reality wretched, no +provision is made for comfort. Drawing-rooms for show,--and commanding +a view of the sea, they have, but no provision is made to gratify +that feeling of home comfort, so dear to the sick, and more especially +so to woman. She feels unsheltered, as though constantly exposed to +half a gale of wind, and constantly passing from one temperature to +another. + +On the other hand, the solidly built house of the Fisherman is often +low, damp, and inconveniently arranged in its interior. Often, it has +not even a double ceiling, but mere planks, which admit cold draughts +into the upper rooms, inflicting coughs, rheumatism, and a score of +other diseases. + +Whatever may be your choice, Madame, between these two kinds of house, +do you know what I heartily wish for you? Laugh, if you please. What I +wish you to have, even in June, is a good fire-place, with a very +excellent chimney, well closed against the wind. In our beautiful +France, with its cold north-west and its rainy south-west, which +occasionally predominates for nine months, a good fire may be +necessary, even in June. On a damp evening, when your child returns +shivering from his promenade, a fire is necessary, to warm him, before +he goes to bed. + +Two things ought to be especially looked after, wherever you lodge, +fire and good water, the latter a thing rarely to be found near the +sea. If it is altogether bad, endeavor, by the use of beer or tea, to +dispense with drinking the plain water, or if you must use it, let it +previously be boiled. + +Why cannot I, with a single word, build you just such a villa as I +have in my mind? I do not speak of the show-house, the almost castle, +such as the wealthy build at the sea side, but of the humble house, +fitted for humble fortunes. It is an art which is yet to be created, +and one which no one seems to suspect, that of building a house, at +once small and substantial. The houses which are built for us, +especially at the sea side, are built in direct contradiction with our +needs in so changeable a climate. Those Kiosks, with their flimsy +ornaments, may do well enough for well-sheltered situations, but make +one fancy that the wind must needs blow them into the sea. The Swiss +chalets have immense overhanging roofs, which so well protect from the +snow, but also have the serious defect of excluding the light. The +sun, in our northern seas, should not be excluded, but most cordially +received. As to the imitations of chapels, gothic churches, and the +like toys, we need say nothing about them, they are really beneath +notice, so absurdly ill calculated as they are for comfortable homes. + +The first necessity for a sea-side house, is great strength, a solid +thickness of walls, which will obviate that rocking which we always +feel in slight buildings. We want such a solidity of construction as +even in the greatest tempests will give courage to a timid woman, and +enable her to say with a smile of pleasure. "How very comfortable we +are in here, while such a storm rages without!" + +The second point is that on the land side, the house should be so +perfectly sheltered that on that side we can sit and forget the sea, +and in the neighborhood of that great movement find the most complete +repose. + +To meet those two needs, I prefer the form which affords least hold to +the wind, the crescent form, with the convex front to the sea, so that +every window will in turn receive the Sun. + +The concave portion of this half circle would be sheltered by the +horns of the crescent, so as to enclose the pretty flower garden of +the mistress of the house. Stretching from this flower garden, the +progressive sloping of the soil would allow of a kitchen garden of a +certain extent, well sheltered from the wind. + +We are told that "Flora shuns the sea;" what she really does shun, is +not the sea, but man's negligence, ignorance, or indolence. At +Eteretat, before a very heavy sea, on the high overlooking beach, and +exposed to heavy winds, there is a farm, with an orchard of superb +trees. What precautions have been taken? A simple hedge-crowned bank, +five feet high, and behind that a row of elms, which shelter all the +rest. Many places Brittany would furnish us with like instances. Who +does not know that Roscoff raises fruit and vegetables in such +profusion as to sell them cheaply, even in Normandy? + +But to return to our building. I want it low-pitched; only a ground +floor, and over that the bed-chambers. Our house, therefore, will be +but small; but, on the other hand, it must be very thick, must have +two rows of chambers, an apartment looking out on the sea, and another +on the land. + +The ground floor apartment, looking towards the land, would be +somewhat sheltered by the upper story, which would project about five +feet. This would make the interior crescent a sort of gallery for use +in bad weather. The lower rooms would be a dining room;--a small room +for our books (voyages and travels, and natural history) and a +bathroom. I do not mean an actual library or luxurious bath. The +necessary, and the very plain, the convenient, and nothing more. + +On very rough days, when the beach is hardly the fit place for +delicate patients, I should wish to see the lady reading or working in +her pretty parterre. She would have some life there, flowers, an +aviary, and a little tank of sea water to receive the little creatures +which the fishermen would be sure to give her. Of course she would +also have an excellent compound microscope. + +For the aviary, I should prefer the free one which I have advised +elsewhere, into which the birds come at night for protection and a +little food. It is closed upon them at night, to protect them from +birds of prey, but opened for them very early in the morning. They +return to this aviary very regularly. I believe, even, that if the +aviary were large enough, and the tree which they most affect were +enclosed, they would freely breed there, and confide their little ones +to your protection. + +Delightful, and yet serious life, this, that we have planned for our +fair patient and her sole child. What charming solitude in this short +widowhood. How new the situation. No housekeeping, no business. With +her boy, she is even more alone than she would be without him. But for +him she would be intruded upon by reverie and vain fancies. But her +innocent guardian, her boy, keeps all such fancies away. He occupies +her, causes her to talk, and talks to her of home, and he thus +constantly reminds her of him who, in their far off home, is toiling +for them, and she counts the days to her return. + +Flourish, pure and amiable woman. You are now even younger than ever, +you have become a girl again, free, sweetly free, under the +guardianship of your boy. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FIRST ASPIRATION OF THE SEA. + + +It is a great and sudden transition to leave Paris in the beautiful +month of June when the great city is resplendent with its magnificent +gardens and its chestnut trees in bloom. June would be delightful on +the coast if one had a single companion and the crowd had not arrived. +But when one is alone on the deserted, with the great sea, we are +touched with a sort of melancholy. + +On a first visit to the coast the impression made is not very +favorable. There is aridity, there is wildness, and yet there is a +certain monotony. The novel grandeur of the spectacle makes us feel, +by contrast, how weak and small we are, and that thought thrills the +heart. The delicate chest that so lately was confined in a chamber, +and now finds itself suddenly removed to this vast open chamber of the +universe, with the sun shining so brightly and the sea breeze blowing +so strongly, feels oppressed. The child comes, goes, and the mother +sits down, shivering in the free fresh breeze. The warmth of the home +she has but just left comes to her mind and she saddens. But her boy +frolics gaily and that soon consoles her. + +All this will soon pass away Madame. Be resolute; your impressions +will be very different when you become better acquainted with the Sea +and think of its myriads of inhabitants. And that painful constriction +of the lungs will pass away too, when you become accustomed to the +free atmosphere of the sea. You require time to accustom yourself to +it, by and by, not thinking about it, as your boy plays with you in +sheltered nooks, you will breathe freely and your chest will dilate +without pain and without conscious effort. But, just at first, I +advise you not to stay too long at a time on the beach, but rather to +take your walk inland. + +The land, your accustomed friend, recalls you. The pine woods rival +the sea in healthful emanations; and theirs have less of harshness. +They penetrate all our being, enter by every pore, modify and purify +the blood, and perfume us with their subtle aroma. In the Landes +behind the pine woods, the herbs and even the coarse grass on which +you tread, yield perfumes not enervating or intoxicating as the +dangerous roses, but agreeably bitter. Seat yourself among them and +you, like them, will be sheltered by this slight slope of land. Might +you not, now that you are thus sheltered, fancy yourself a hundred +leagues from the sea? Drink in the sweet breathings, the pure spirits, +the very soul of these wild flowers--that, in purity, are your very +sisters. Gather them if you will, Madame; they ask for nothing better. +Somewhat rude, perhaps, and yet so beautiful; and in their virginal +perfume they have that singular mystery of calming and strengthening. +Do not fear to hide them in your fair bosom and upon your beating +heart. + +Let us not forget that these sheltered landes are, at certain hours, +burning hot. They so absorb and concentrate the rays of the sun. The +weak woman is wilted there. The young girl, full of vigorous life, +feels her pulses boiling and has redoubled power; her brain swims and +she has strange and dangerous day dreams. If you wish to go there let +it be on some moist and rather cloudy day; or, still better, rise at a +very early hour when all is cool, when the wild thyme still keeps +somewhat of its dew, and while the Hare is still abroad. + +But let us return to the Ocean. At ebb-tide he manifests, and, in some +sort, presents to you, the rich life that he nourishes. You must +follow, step by step, the retiring waves, though the wet sand will +sink some little beneath your feet. Fear not. The gentle wave will, at +the most, kiss your feet. If you look closely you will perceive that +the sand is not, as you at first thought it, dead, but is here and +there moved by numerous lingerers that the ebb-tide has left behind. +On certain beaches, small fish are thus hidden in the sand. At the +mouth of the rivers the Eel's writhing movement, throws up the sand in +mimic earthquakes. The Crab, too eagerly engaged in feeding, or +fighting, has now to hasten back to the sea, and in his flight he +leaves an odd mosaic, a zigzag line marking his oblique travel, and at +the end of that line you will find him lying in wait for the coming in +of the tide. The Solen (_Manche de Couteau_), that razor-shaped shell +fish, has plunged deep into the sand, but betrays himself to you by +the breathing holes that he has left. The Venus you can just as +certainly trace by the fucus attached to its shell, but floating on +the surface; and the undulations of the soil betray to you the covered +ways of the warlike annelides, and viewing them with the aid of your +microscope you will be charmed with the rainbows of their changing +colors. + +But the finest sights are caused at the first low ebb, which always +follows the high Spring tide. At such ebbs, immense and unexplored +spaces are left bare, and we can survey that mysterious bottom of the +sea, on which we have so often speculated and dreamed. There you +discover, in motion, in life, in all the secrecy of their retreats, +astonished populations, which fancied themselves secure, and which +rarely, if ever before, had been looked upon by the sun, and still +more rarely by the eye of man. Be not alarmed, swarming populations of +minute creatures, you are seen only by the inquisitive but +compassionate eye of a woman; it is not the cruel and coarse hand of a +fisherman that invades your retreat. But you ask, what does she want +with you? Nothing but to see you, salute you, show you to her boy, and +leave you in your natural element, and with every kindly wish for your +health and prosperity. At times we need not wander far; at such times +in a cleft of the rock, we may find every minute species, old Ocean +having diverted himself with lodging a whole world of minute creatures +within the space of a few square feet. We sit and we watch, and the +longer and the more closely we watch, the more do we see of life, at +first imperceptible. And so interested are we that we should sit there +for an indefinite time, were we not chased to shore by that imperious +master of the beach, the flood Tide. + +But to-morrow, at ebb, she will return to the beach, that school, that +Museum, that inexhaustible amusement for both mother and child. There +the delicate and penetrating sense of woman and the tenderness of her +heart seize and divine all. Maternity tells her all the secrets of +increasing, diminishing, and recreating life. Do you ask why her +instinct so quickly reveals creation to her; why she enters as one so +thoroughly at home, into the great mystery of Nature? It is because +she is Nature herself. + +In the depths of the unctuous waters the small algæ, small, but +unctuous and nourishing, and other little plants of delicate and +pretty figures, form a miniature prairie which is browsed by a vast +herd of molluscæ, Limpets, Whelks, and a hundred other species, watch, +wait, feed, there, and to-morrow you will find them there still. But +do you therefore suppose that they are utterly inert? That they have +no confused idea of Love and the Unknown? Of some benevolent thing +which at certain hours returns to refresh and nourish them? Oh yes, +they both think of it and expect it; those widows of the great Ocean +well know that he will return to caress the earth. Anticipatively they +look towards the Ocean, and even those which have a fixed abode, turn +from the rock and open their shells towards the incoming tide. And if +it come in somewhat strongly they are all the more delighted; too +happy to hail that living wave that advances so strongly, as in haste +to caress them. + +"See my child" says the young mother, "at our approach the motionless +ones remain, but the quicker have fled. Now see, they take courage +again. The active shrimp, with its fine feelers, rainbowed by the +water, creates a great commotion in that mimic and miniature sea, and +the slow and hesitating sea spider, at once timid and daring, saves +herself by ascending to the warm surface, and the crab advancing and +surveying, suddenly returns into his miniature forest of sea weed. + +"But what do I see now? What _is_ that? A large, motionless shell +suddenly takes life, and moves. Oh, but that is not natural, and the +impostor betrays himself by his awkward gait and his many stumbles. +Yes, yes, we detect you now, you most cunning of all cunning crabs, +Sir Bernard the Hermit, who would fain pass yourself off for an +innocent mollusc! Your bad conscience agitates you too much." + +On the shore of our ocean, strangers to these movements, the animated +flowers expand their corollæ. Near to the heavy anemone those charming +little annelides appear in the sunlight. From a tortuous tube rises a +disc, an umbrella, white or lilac, sometimes flesh color. Thrown, +itself, a little on one side, it casts off from itself an object which +has nothing comparable to it in the whole vegetable world. Not one of +these is like its sister, and all are admirable for their velvety +delicacy. + +See one of them, without umbrella, which throws off a whole cloud of +light cottony threads, scarcely tinted with a silver grey, while five +longer filets are of the richest cherry color. They wave, they +entwine, they untwist, and their silvery heads form beautiful images +in the water. To the coarse senses of man, such a sight as that would +suggest no serious thought; but to the nervous and delicate woman, it +is much. At those colors, by turns flashing and fading, she reflects +on her own young life that now flashes, now fades, and now threatens +to expire. Affecting thought! Again she looks into the pretty +miniature Ocean of a few feet square, and there she better discerns +Nature, the fertile mother, but the stern mother too. + +And our fair patient is plunged into an oppressive reverie. Woman +would cease to be woman, that is to say, the charm of the world, if +she had not that touching gift of _Tenderness for everything that +lives_; _pity, and loving tears_. + +She has not wept as yet, our fair patient, but she has been so near to +doing so! Her boy perceives it. Being already attentive and quick, he +remains silent; and, silently they return. That was the amiable first +day when she first began to spell with her heart the language of +Nature. And at her very first lesson that language had so stirred the +tenderness of that poor heart! The daylight was dying, the sea bird, +on rapid wing, approached the shore and sought his nest. And as our +patient and her boy entered their already dark garden, the cry of the +night bird was heard. But the aviary was well closed, and the innocent +little refugees within were asleep with heads under wings. Having +herself seen that all was thus safe, she relieved her heart with a +sigh, and embraced her son. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BATHS--RESTORATION OF BEAUTY. + + +If, as certain French physicians maintain, sea-water baths have only a +mechanical action, infuse no new principle into the blood and _are +merely a simple branch of hydropathy_, it must be confessed that of +all the forms of hydropathy they are the harshest and most hazardous. +Let it once be clearly shown that that sea-water, so rich in life, +bestows no more of vitality than fresh water and we must confess that +it is little less than madness to take sea-baths in the open air and +at all the risk of the wind, the sun, and the thousand possible +accidents. + +Whoever has seen a poor creature come out of the water after taking +his first bath, whoever has seen him come out pale and shuddering, +must perceive how dangerous such experiments are to certain +constitutions. Be assured that none of us would submit to so much +suffering if health could be as readily secured without suffering and +without danger, in one's own house, and by common fresh water +hydropathy. + +And, as though the impression of a first sea-bath were not +sufficiently strong, it is aggravated for a nervous woman by the +presence of the crowd of bathers. For her it is a cruel exhibition to +make before a critical crowd, before rivals, delighted to see her +ugly, for once; before silly and heartless men, who, with telescope in +hand, watch the sad hazards of the toilette of the poor humiliated +woman. + +To brave all this the patient must have faith, great, surpassing +faith, in the Sea. She must believe that no other remedy will meet her +case, and must determine that, at whatever risks, she will be +permeated by the virtues of the sea water. "And why not be thus +_permeated_?" ask the German physicians. "If at first entering the +water you contract and close up your pores, reaction brings almost +immediately a warmth that reopens them, dilates the skin and renders +it very capable of _absorbing_ the life of the sea." + +The two operations, the closing and the reopening of the pores, the +first chill and the succeeding glow, almost always take place in five +or six minutes. To stay in longer than the latter space of time, is +almost always injurious. + +Moreover, we should not venture upon this violent emotion of the cold +bath without a preliminary course of warm bathing, to facilitate +absorption. Our skin which is entirely composed of the little mouths +which we call pores, and which, in its way, both absorbs and digests, +as the stomach does, wants time to get accustomed to such strong +nourishment as the _mucus_ of the sea, that salted milk with which the +sea makes and remakes such myriads of creatures. By a graduated course +of baths, hot, warm, lukewarm, and almost cold, the skin acquires this +habit, and, so to speak, this appetite; and "increase of appetite +grows by what it feeds on." + +For the hard ceremony of the first cold sea-water baths, at least, the +odious gaze of a mob of people is to be avoided. Let them be taken in +private and with no one present but a perfectly reliable person who, +at need, will help the nervous patient, and rub her with hot cloths +and revive her with warm drinks containing a few drops of the potent +elixir. + +"But," it may be said, "the presence of other bathers lessens the +danger; we are far different from Virginia, who, in an extreme danger, +preferred drowning herself to taking a bath." A great mistake; we are +more nervous now than ever we were. And the impression of which I +speak is at once so vivid and so revolting--I mean for nervous +people--that it is quite capable of killing, by aneurism or apoplexy. + +I love the people, but I hate a mob; especially a noisy mob of fast +livers who come to sadden the great Sea with their noise, their +fashions, and their absurdities. What! Is not the land large enough? +Must such people come to the Sea to martyrize the sick and to +vulgarize the majesty of the Sea, that wild and true grandeur? + +I once had the ill luck to run from Havre to Honfleur in a craft +loaded with such fools. Even in that short trip they found time to +grow weary of quiet, and to get up a ball. One of them--probably a +dancing master--had his Kit with him and played all sorts of dances in +the presence of that great Ocean. Happily one could not hear much of +that small music; scarcely now and then could a shrill note or two +rise above the solemn, the truly solemn bass of the Sea's roar. I can +easily imagine the sadness of the lady who, in July, suffers under the +invasion of a mob of these fops, fools, and gossips. All liberty is +then at an end. Even in the most retired spot the drowsy ear of night +is vexed by the boisterous echoes from saloon, and dancing room, +coffee-room and Casino. In the day the host of yellow gloves and +varnished boots crowds the shore. One lady is observed alone, with her +boy. Why is that? Impertinents wish to know, they approach, and, +gathering sea shells for the child, endeavor to force their +conversation on the mother. The lady is embarrassed, bored to death, +and has to confine herself to her lodging or venture out only in +early morning, while the empty pated revellers are still sleeping off +the effects of the last night's follies. Then, from her seclusion flow +a thousand ill natured comments. She becomes alarmed, for some of +these idlers have influence and may, possibly, injure her husband. + +Nowhere more than at the sea side, are we inquisitive, and the poor +woman becomes agitated and sleepless during the long hot nights of +July and August, and if, towards morning, she at length sleeps, she is +not much more tranquil. The baths, far from cooling, add the saline +irritation to the fierce heat of the dog days. From her youth she +derives, not strength, but fever; and, weak and highly nervous, she is +all the more disturbed by that interior storm. + +Interior, but yet not hidden. The Sea, the pitiless Sea, brings to the +skin the proofs of that excitement which the sufferer would fain keep +hidden. She betrays it by red blotches, slight efflorescences. All +these petty annoyances, which still more afflict the children, and +which in them the mother looks upon as signs of returning health, the +mothers feel as humiliations when seen on their own faces. They fear +that they will therefore be less loved. So little do they know of the +heart of man. They know not that the sharpest spur of love is not +beauty, but suffering. + +"Oh! If he should find me ugly!" is the poor woman's morning thought, +as she looks in her glass. She at once fears and desires the coming of +her husband. And yet she feels so lonely, and fears, she knows not +what, amidst that noisy crowd. She dares not go out, she becomes +feverish, and at length is confined to her bed. In little more than +twenty-four hours, the beloved one is by her side. + +Who has summoned him? She certainly has not. But, in his great +straggling handwriting, her boy has written to his father thus: "My +dear Papa, come quickly. Mamma is confined to bed, and the other day +she said 'oh if he were here!'" And accordingly he was there, and +immediately she felt herself recovering. And he, how happy he is! +Happy to see her restored, happy to be necessary to her, and happy to +see her looking so beautiful. She is somewhat sun burnt, but how young +she looks! What life in her glance, and in her flowing and silky hair! + +Is this mere fiction, this so prompt restoration of life, beauty, and +tenderness; this delightful incident of finding in a wife, a young +mistress, so happy in being rejoined by a husband? Not at all. It is +an agreeable sight which right often may be witnessed. If rare among +the very rich, it is not so among the laborious families whose labor +makes them, during most of their lives, close prisoners. Their forced +separations are painful, and their reunion has a charm, a rapture, +which they do not even try to conceal. + +When we consider the prodigious tension of modern life, for toiling +men, (that is to say, for every one but a few idlers) one cannot but +be glad to witness those scenes of joy, when a reunited family expand +their hearts. Those who have no hearts, call all this vulgar and +prosaic. But, the form matters little, where the substance is so +surpassingly good. The careworn merchant, who, from three months to +three months, has only with utmost difficulty saved the bark in which +the destiny of his wife and children is exposed to shipwreck; the +administration victim; the employé, worn well nigh to death by the +injustice and tyranny of the offices--these suffering captives, are +released, for a brief space, from their galling chains, and the tender +family, the mother and child, endeavor to make the husband and father +forget his cares. + +And well able are wife and child to wile the worn man into that sweet +temporary oblivion. Their gaiety, their caresses, and the distractions +of the sea-side, soothe his wearied soul, and fill his mind with other +and happier thoughts. It is their triumph. They hurry off to visit +_their_ beach, to contemplate _their_ sea, and to enjoy his +admiration, which he, worthy man, just a little exaggerates, because +he wishes them to be pleased. Yes! it is _their_ sea; having bathed +in it, they have taken possession; and he, the toilworn husband and +father, must share with them in their vast possession. The young woman +no longer fears that crowd which formerly so much annoyed, and even +alarmed, her; now that he is beside her she is not merely safe, but +bold, daring; to say the truth, just a little presumptuous. She is +quite familiar with the sea; familiar enough to be determined to learn +to swim. At first she is supported by her active and bold boy. +Supported by him, she swims--but I fear if left to herself her native +timidity would return, and she would sink. Yet she is in love with the +sea; yea, jealous of the sea. For, in fact, the sea inspires no +moderate passions. There is I know not what of electric inspiration, +of all-absorbing passion for the Sea, in all who truly know it. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RESTORATION OF HEART AND BROTHERHOOD. + + +There are three forms of Nature which especially expand and elevate +our souls, release her from her heavy clay and earthy limits, and send +her, exulting, to sail amidst the wonders and mysteries of the +Infinite. + +First; there is the variable Ocean of Air with its glorious banquet of +light, its vapors, its twilight, and its shifting phantasmagoria of +capricious creatures; coming into existence only to depart on the +instant. + +Second; there is the fixed Ocean of the earth, its undulating and vast +waves as we see them from the tops of "earth o'er gazing mountains," +the elevations which testify its antique mobility, and the sublimity +of its mightier mountains clad in eternal snows. + +Third; there is the Ocean of waters, less mobile than air, less fixed +than earth, but docile, in its movements, to the celestial bodies. + +These three things form the gamut by which the Infinite speaks to our +souls. Nevertheless, let us point out some very notable differences. +The air-Ocean is so mobile that we can scarcely examine it. It +deceives, it decoys, it diverts; it dissipates and breaks up our chain +of thought. For an instant, it is an immense hope, the day of an +infinity;--anon, it is not so; all flies from before us, and our +hearts are grieved, agitated, and filled with doubt. Why have I been +permitted to see for a moment that immense flood of light? The memory +of that brief gleaming must ever abide with me, and that memory makes +all things here on Earth look dark. + +The fixed ocean of the mountains is not thus transient or fugitive; on +the contrary, it stops us at every step, and imposes upon us the +necessity of a very hard, though wholesome, gymnastic. Contemplation +here has to be bought at the price of the most violent action. +Nevertheless, the opacity of the Earth, like the transparency of the +air, frequently deceives and bewilders us. Who can forget that for ten +years Ramon, in vain, sought to reach Mount Perdu, though often within +sight of it? + +Great, very great, is the difference between the two elements; the +Earth is mute and the Ocean speaks. The Ocean is a voice. It speaks to +the distant stars, it answers to their movements in its deep and +solemn language. It speaks to the Earth on the shores, replying to the +echoes that reply again; by turns wailing, soothing, threatening, its +deepest roar is presently succeeded by a sad, pathetic sigh. And it +especially addresses itself to Man. As it is the fecund womb in which +creation began and still continues, it has creation's living +eloquence; it is Life speaking to Life! The millions, the countless +myriads, of beings, to which it gives birth, are its words. That milky +Sea from which they proceed, that fecund marine jelly, even before it +is organized, while yet white and foaming,--speaks. All these mingled +together makes the unity, the great and solemn voice of the Ocean. + +And, "what are those wild waves saying?" They are telling of _Life_, +of the eternal Metamorphosis; of the great fluid existence, shaming +our senseless ambitions of the earth-world. + +They are telling of _Immortality_. An indomitable strength is at the +bottom of Nature, how much more so at Nature's summit, the Soul! And +it speaks of Partnership, of Union. Let us accept the swift exchange +which, in the individual, exists between the diverse elements; let us +accept the superior Law which unites the living members of the same +body--Humanity; and, still more, let us accept and respect the supreme +Law which makes us create and coöperate with the Great Soul, +associated as we are--in proportion with our powers,--with the loving +Harmony of the world--copartners in the Life of God. + +The Sea very distinctly, in that voice that is mistakenly supposed to +be a mere confusion of sounds, articulates those grave words. But man +does not easily recognize those words, when he first arrives on the +shore exhausted by worldly struggles, deafened, distracted, by worldly +babble. The sense of the higher life is dulled even among the best of +us; the best of us, to a greater or less extent, resist that sense. +And who shall teach us to quicken and obey that sense? Nature? Not +yet. Softened into tenderness by the family, by the innocence of the +child and the tenderness of the wife, man first takes an interest, +real and strong, in the things of humanity, in the cares and studies +which tend to preserve the family. But woman is earlier and more +deeply interested in the Sea, in the Poetry of the Infinite. And thus +we see that souls have sexes as well as bodies have. For the man +thinks of the seaman more than of the sea's wonders; he thinks of its +dangers, of its daily and hourly tragedies, and of the floating +destiny of his family. The woman, tender as she is to individuals, +takes less interest in classes. Every laborious man, who visits the +coast, bestows his principal attention and his principal sympathy upon +the hard life of the man of toil, the fisherman and the sailor; upon +that hard hard life so laborious and perilous and so little productive +of gain. + +Such a man, while his wife rises and dresses her sweet child, walks +upon the beach in the early morning just as the fishing boats return. +The morning is cold, the night has been rainy, and the boats have +shipped many a heavy sea. The men, and not only men but very small +boys, too, are wet to the skin. And what have they brought back? Not +much;--but they _have_ come back, and that is much. For last night, +see you, they shipped many a sea and looked at death closely many a +time. Ah! When the stranger reflects upon the hard life brought +immediately under his purview, surely, however much he may have +complained of his own lot, he will now learn to say "My lot is far +better than theirs." + +In the evening, just when the sun sets, coppery and threatening, into +the sinister horizon, these men already have to sail again. And the +stranger says to them, "Shall you not have bad weather, think you?" +"Sir," they reply, "we must earn our bit of bread," and they and their +sturdy boys push off to Sea. And their wives, more than serious, sad, +follow them with their eyes; and more than one of those wives whisper +an earnest prayer. And the stranger, too, whispers his prayer, and +says to himself, "They will have a dirty night; would that they may +return in safety." + +And thus it is that the Sea opens the heart, and that even the hardest +hearts are softened in presence of the great stern mother. In that +presence, no matter what we may strive to think, we become humanized, +sympathizing, tender. And Heaven knows how much need and how much +occasion there are for sympathy there! Every kind of want and struggle +is to be found among those brave, honest and intelligent marine +populations who are incomparably the best of our country. I have lived +a good deal on the coast. Every heroic virtue, which an inland +population would praise so highly, is there an every day and very +common-place matter. And, still more curious!--there is no pride among +these hardy mariners. All our French pride is for the landsmen--the +soldiery. But among our marine population the greatest dangers count +for nothing; every one braves such every day, and no one ever thinks +of boasting of them. I have never met with men who were milder or more +modest (I had almost said more timid) than our Gironde pilots who, +from Royan and from St. George's gallantly put out, to face all that +Cordouan has of peril. There, as at Granville, and every where else on +that coast, it is the women alone who have anything to say, or any +business to do, on land. The brave pilots, when once on shore, never +say a word in the way of command; peaceable as their valiant wives are +superbly noisy, the men leave the women full authority to administer +the poor income and to rule (occasionally with a pretty hard hand) +the youngsters of the household. The husband, in fact, though he reads +no Latin, literally and practically translates the Latin poet: + + "Happy, when in mine own house I am as nobody." + +Their wives, greatly interested about the foreigner, had, +nevertheless, let it be boldly as truly said, a royal, a magnificent, +a generous, kindly feeling. At St. Georges, they cut up, and scraped +up, all their linen to make lint for the wounded at Solferino. At +Entretat, three Englishmen being wrecked, and in awful danger, the +whole population, men, women and children, rushed to the rescue, and +dragged them to land with all the outward and visible signs of a real +and a violent sensibility. And they were fed, and clothed, and tended, +and relieved, even as though they had been compatriots, and very dear +friends. This occurred in April, 1859. + +Oh! Those kind French people! And yet, how hard, hitherto, has been +their life! In our _regime_ of Classes (so useful, however, in itself, +and from which we derive so much of giant strength) the sailor is +compelled, at any moment, to leave the merchant service for the war +ship, daily and hourly growing more severe, more crushing, in its hard +discipline! Forty years ago the sailor sang, as he worked at the +capstan bar; _now_ he heaves in silence. (Ial. Arch II. 522). And in +the merchant service, the great fisheries are almost worked out. The +profits of the Whale Fishery belong, almost entirely, to the +outfitter. (Boitard, Diet. art. Cetaceæ, Whales, &c.) The Cod has +diminished, the Mackerel grows more and more scarce. A very precious +little book (_The Story of Rose Duchenin_, by herself) gives a most +touching picture of this great destitution. Alphonse Karr, that +admirable writer, had the good sense to write that book from the +dictation of that Fisherman's Wife, without altering a word of hers, +or adding a word of his own. + +Étretat is not, properly speaking, a port. Situated little, if any, +above the level of the Sea, and defended only by the pebbly bar which +the sea has washed in, it is but poorly sheltered. And consequently, +it is necessary that, according to the old Celtic custom, every vessel +that runs in there, must be hauled up to the Quay by the cable and the +capstan; the capstan bars being handled by the women, for the lads are +all at sea. The labor and the difficulty will be easily understood by +all who read this. The lubberly craft, as it is drawn up, hits hard +from boulder to boulder, and ascends only by leaps, violent and +damaging, and still more threatening than either. And at every leap +and every shock, those poor women suffer from the hard blow to their +necks and from the bitterly painful emotions of their poor hearts. + +When I first witnessed this terrible labor, I was wounded, saddened in +mine inmost heart. My first impulse was to bear a hand and lend my +aid. But the thing would seem so singular, I thought, that a +something, I know not what, of false shame, arrested me. But every day +I lent a hand, at least with my wishes and my prayers. I went, and +looked. Those young and charming, though anything but pretty, women +and girls did not sport the short red petticoat of the coasts, but +long robes; and for the most part, they had the refined and delicate +aspect of the young lady of the great city. Bending to that hard toil +(a filial, and, therefore, a noble toil) they had a certain mingled +grace and pride, and, in all that hard toil, not a complaint, not even +a sigh, escaped them. + +That very small Quay of Boulders, small as it is, yet is too large. I +saw there a number of vessels, abandoned, useless. For, see you, the +Fishery has become so unproductive! The fish have fled that shore. +Entretat languishes, perishes, so near to languishing, and, but for +its sea-bathing, perishing, Dieppe, which owes its present +existence--such as it is!--to the greater or less number of visitors, +who render Dieppe in one season prosperous, and in another as nearly +as possible, bankrupt. And this very influx from Paris, worldly Paris, +is, after all, morally, at least, a real scourge to that marine +population. + +Our Norman populations who discovered America, and who, ever since the +fourteenth century, have known Africa, are every year becoming less +and less in love with the sea, so that, year by year, more and more of +them are turning their faces inland. The descendant of the bold fellow +who formerly harpooned the Whale, is now a pale cotton-spinner of +Montville or of Balbec. + +It is for Science, it is for the Law, to put a stop to this fearful +decay. The former with its skill, its sound advice will,--if such +advice be resolutely acted upon, _economise the Sea and_ revive that +Fishery which is the very nursery of Seamen; and in the next place, +the Law, less exclusively caring for the interests of the real +_élite_, the real flower and elect of the country, in no wise to be +compared to those great masses from which we draw our soldiery, but +who, under given circumstances, will be able to cut the Gordian knot +of the world. + +Such were my reflections, on the little wharf or Quay of Etretat, in +the cloudy and rainy summer of 1860, while the capstan bar was heaved +at by young females, while the capstan screamed at every turn, and +while the whole scene put one in mind of _desolation for the present, +and worse to come_. + +And thus is it with our century. Ever since 1730, and so in the +present day, labor, fatigue, and slowness have been upon us. Let us +all, of no matter what rank, put hand and strength to the capstan bar! +But, alas! how many of us prefer _picking up pebbles on the wild_ sea +shore! + +We read that Scipio, stern conqueror of Carthage, and Terence, the +lucky refugee from that shipwreck of a world, amused themselves in +picking up shells on the sea shore; capital friends in their +forgetfulness of the past. They enjoyed the _dolce far niente_; they +were luxurious in their enjoyment of the illusion of being _boys once +more_. But let not that be _our_ wish. We will not, we must not, we +dare not, forget _our_ duty; no, with persistent labor, with uncooling +ardor, we will put our hands to the capstan bar, and help to _warp up_ +this great, but worn and much tried century. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE NEW LIFE OF THE NATIONS. + + +Just as I was finishing this book, in December, 1860, resuscitated +Italy, that great and glorious mother of the modern nations, sent me +tidings, in the shape of a small book, a mere pamphlet. It was my "New +Year's gift for 1861." + +And from that Italy how often have we had great and beautiful tidings? +In 1300 news from Dante; in 1500 news from Americus Vespucius; in 1600 +from Galileo. And what are our present tidings from Florence? + +Apparently, but small. But who knows? Perhaps the results will be +immense! It is a discourse of but a few pages, a medical pamphlet, and +its very title is more likely to repel than to attract. And, yet, in +those few pages there is matter which, duly acted upon, may change the +whole destiny of our great, but weak, our often wise, but still more +often mistaken Humanity. + +Opposite to the Title I find two portraits, one a deceased boy, and +another dying. The author of the pamphlet is a Doctor, who, very +unusual thing! has been so terribly impressed by the fate of his poor +unknown and, but for him, uncared for children, that he has been led +to write for our instruction, his pain and his regret. + +The elder of these children, of a fine and high nature, in the +bitterness, as it would seem, of a great destiny cut short, has a +bouquet upon his pillow. His mother,--poor, poor, mother! has given it +to him this morning, having nothing else to give, and the nurses, +seeing the quite religious love with which he cared for the poor gift +of that poor mother, have allowed him to keep it. + +The second, still younger, in all the tender grace of his four or five +years, is evidently dying; his eyes are fast veiling beneath the death +film. Each of these poor boys had shown sympathy for the other. When +they could no longer speak their sympathy, they _looked_ it in their +tender glances, and the good kind Doctor, (blessings on him for the +kindly thought!) had them placed opposite to each other, and his +engraving shows them to us (touching sight), just as, dying, they +exchanged their sympathizing glances! + +The whole is truly, and nobly, Italian. In any other country a man +would fear to be laughed at in showing himself thus truly tender. Not +so in Italy. The Doctor wrote to his Italian public, just as he might +soliloquise in the privacy of his own study; and he unreservedly pours +out all his feelings with an intensity, with a perfectly feminine +sensibility, which will make the worldly man laugh, and the kindly man +weep. And it must be confessed that his native language has much to do +with his power over our feelings; it is the language of women and +children, at once so tender and so striking, beautiful even in its +terrible accent of grief and suffering. It is a shower of mingled +tears and roses. + +And then he suddenly stops himself. and apologizes. He would not have +written thus, but for sufficient cause, and that cause is that "Those +poor children would not have died if they could have been sent to the +sea-side." And, the inference? That at the sea-side we must have +Hospitals for children. Now here, if you please, is a really skilful, +as well as greatly humane, man. He touches the heart; and the rest +necessarily follows. Men listen attentively and are touched; women +burst into an agony of tears. They beg, they pray, they insist--and +who is to resist them? Without waiting for government action, or +government aid, a voluntary society has founded a "_Children's +Sea-Bathing Hospital_" at Viareggio. + +All who have been there admire the crescent-like sweep, made by the +Mediterranean, when it quits Genoa passes the magnificent road of +Spezzia and reaches the Virgilian Olive Groves of Tuscany. About half +way from Leghorn a cape, stolen from the Sea, is the site, henceforth +the sacred site, of this truly admirable foundation. + +Florence, by the way, has preceded all Europe in the way of charitable +foundations; she had hospitals before the close of the tenth century, +and in the year 1287, when Beatrice inspired and maddened Dante, her +father, the cruel persecutor of the greater, far greater Dante, +founded the hospital of _St. Maria Nuova_. Even Luther, though in his +travels he saw little to admire in Italy, _did_ admire, and very +heartily, its Hospitals and the beautiful Italian women, who, veiled, +stood by the bedsides of the sick sinner and the dying pauper. + +This new foundation, of which we have spoken, will, we trust, be a +model for Europe. We owe that much to children; for upon them it is +that fall the worst effects of our murderous toils and our still more +murderous excesses in every kind of bad life. + +It is impossible not to perceive the visible and terrible +deterioration of our Western races. The causes of it are numerous and +very various. The chief of them all is the immensity and the constant +and rapid increase of our hours of labor. For the most part, it is +compulsory; compelled by trade regulations and trade necessities. But +even where no such compulsion exists, there the same ardor of long +hours and hard toil exists. I know not what demoniac fire exists in +our modern temperament. Compared to ourselves, all former centuries +have been positively idle. Our results, no doubt, are immense. From +our prolific brain and iron hand, proceeds such a marvellous flood of +art, science, inventions, productions, and ideas, that we are actually +glutting the markets, not only of the present, but also of the future. +But at what cost are we doing all this? At the price of an awful +expenditure of strength, and of nervous energy; we are enervating +ourselves, our works are prodigious, and _our children_ are miserable. +We condemn them to disease, suffering, and premature death even before +they are born. _Our spendthrift waste of energy entails feebleness and +early death upon them!_ And let it be remembered that this immense +amount of production is the work of only a comparatively small number. +America does little of it, Asia next to nothing, and even in Europe +all, or nearly all, is done by a few millions in the extreme West. The +others laugh to see the really working peoples thus wear themselves +out. Poor Barbarians! Do you fancy, then, that this Russian or that +Backwoodsman, can replace, at need, a mechanic of London or an +optician of Paris? No; we have become such by the education and the +practice of long centuries. A whole and a very long tradition is in +us. What would become of you if we should die? None of you are ready +to succeed us. + +But this same murderous toil, this absolutely suicidal production, if +we be willing to accept it for ourselves, it is our duty _not_ to +accept it for our children; we have no right thus to _add murder to +suicide_. And, yet, that is what we really are doing. They are born +already, with our fatigue, our cerebral exhaustion. With a perfectly +frightful precocity, they _know_, they _can_, they _will_, and they +_do_. But how long? The grave opens for them _so_ early! + +The human infant, like the young plant, needs rest, air, and a sweet +liberty. Do we give our children any of these? No; our very virtues, +as well as our vices, deny them all. Everything seems to combine to +kill them early. Do we love them? No doubt; and yet our worst malice +could not do more than we do to kill them early or to cause them to +live miserably, pitifully, sufferingly, effeminate. Such a society as +ours, so overworked, so over excited, so constantly agitated, is, +(whether society will confess it or not) a real, and a murderous war +upon our children. + +Especially there are times and seasons in the course of the child's +growth when his life quite literally hangs upon a thread. Life, at +those times, seems to borrow human voice, and to ask,--"Can I possibly +last?" At those critical times, see you, the contact of so many, the +close, sedentary, and imprisoned life of cities, is just simply Death +to those delicate and fading creatures. Or, even worse than Death, it +is the commencement of a long career of suffering and helplessness far +worse than Death itself. In this latter case you leave a poor creature +who, now sick, now well, drags on a wretched existence, a misery to +himself and a burthen upon public charity. + +All this must be cut short. We must have foresight combined with +humanity. We must snatch the child from these murderous surroundings; +we must take him from man and give him to the grand nursing of the +fecund Nature--of the Sea. And, then, the child will live and become +Man. Your very foundlings, if you thus treat them may some day become +your Nelsons and your Napiers, and your community, instead of having +to support an habitual patient of your hospitals, will have the bold +seaman or the strong laborer. + +And, for the matter of that, why need we depend upon the State to do +this great thing? Florence hath taught us that the royal heart is +fully equal to any other royalty; woman in her mercy, _is_ a royalty; +she commands, entreats, and man obeys. Woman! Have mercy upon the +children! + +If I were a young and lovely woman, I well know what _I_ should say, +and what _I_ should do. I should have all around me my magnificence +and my luxury, and when on some fine day, my lover in his love should +be eager, passionate, ready to give great gifts, I would say to him:-- + +"Please offer me none of your Cachemires, designed in England and +woven in India; for Diamonds I really care nothing; Berthollet who +knows so well how to imitate Nature can make Diamonds, if he so +please. But if you really wish to make me a present which I shall +love, and for which I shall love you, be so good as to get me a nice +well sheltered, yet beautifully sunny home, in which I can lodge some +three score, or so, of poor children. They will want no fine +furniture; not much of any kind. Once established in that sunny, +quiet, and kindly home, they will be well fed, and well cared for; +and, my word for it, not a woman will go to the sea-side for her own +health who will not give her mite towards the support of those poor +children. If Beatrice of Florence could influence her father to found +such a home, such a saving refuge, cannot we women of France do as +much? Is it that we are less beautiful, or are you less truly in +Love?" + +"If the Sea, as you every morning tell me, has beautified and improved +me so much; surely, your best gift would be my keepsake for the beach. +And if you really love me, you will share with me in this work, this +great work of bringing to the bosom of the great Ocean-mother a whole +family of these perishing children. Let her take our pledges of a +durable tenderness and purest love! Let her bear witness that, in the +presence of the Infinite, we _were_, in very truth, united in one holy +thought!" + +One woman has thus commenced and another will continue, the common +mother, France. No Institution more useful, no money better expended. +And, in fact, not much needs to be expended. The chief thing necessary +will be to transfer some of our charitable institutions from the +interior. For many of those institutions expend their funds in mere +waste; in fact, some of them might be quite truly termed Pauper +Manufactories. + +The Romans had the good sense never to grudge expense for anything +that concerned the public health. Just look at their splendid +aqueducts, just consider their public baths where quite gratuitously, +or, at the utmost, at the charge of a half cent, the meanest could +bathe, and you will at once understand their public spirit, their +really large and grand patriotism. Fresh water baths, salt water +baths, everything was provided for that lazy and non-producing +plebeianism! Perhaps, in fact, in the politico-economical sense, the +Patricians of Rome did too much for that, at once indolent and +seditious _Plebs_. And shall we, WE, WE hesitate to do far less to +save our own race, that one creative and laborious race that creates +all that is really progressive on our globe? + +I speak not here merely, or even principally, of the children; but of +all. Every town, at this very instant, has a town within a town, a +town of horrible sufferers; of the poor, and the afflicted; they are +going to be Paupers not only now, but for the whole remainder of their +lives. Again, and again, and again they will come; cured to-day, and +returning to-morrow worse and more helpless than ever. They must be +enormously expensive; and who pays the cost? Why their hardier fellow +workmen who, in the ultimate result, pay all our expenses! And the +laborer dies young, and leaves his young ones a burthen on the public +purse. + +_Prevention is better than cure._ You can do far more for the man who +is in danger of being sick than for him who is already worn out. Ten +days or a fortnight of rest and good living at the sea-side, will +restore him to you, a good, sound, solid laborer. His carriage, and +the cheap shelter, for so few days! by that recuperating sea-side, I +tell you again, will restore him to you, a good sound, honest, and +independent laborer. And the man will be saved, and his young family; +and such a man as, if you once lose him, you cannot easily replace. +No! You cannot replace him, for, as I have already said, every really +working man is the slow product, of a long tradition of thought and of +labor, and he himself is a work of art; of that so much misunderstood +human art in which _Humanity itself becomes a creative Power_. + +Who shall give me to see that crowd of inventive people, that creating +and manufacturing people, who in the world's service are hourly +wearing themselves out; who, I ask, will give me to see that People, +that true People, enabled to repair their shattered frames at the +magnificent sea-side? Let this ability be provided for them, and all +classes and conditions will equally share the benefit. And let it not +be forgotten that all classes and conditions _owe_ thus much to the +worn toilers, for by their toil, their excessive toil, all classes are +benefited. It is by their very blood, by their very marrow, that all +classes receive their enjoyments, their elegance, and their +enlightenment. Let society, then, give to them the repose, the saline +air, the restoring waters of the great restoring Sea. In doing thus +much, society will benefit itself; while doing the simplest justice to +its worn toilers. + +Have pity upon yourselves, all ye poor men of the West. Consult upon, +and act for, the common weal. Earth entreats you to live and offers +you that which is her best, the SEA, to repair your own strength and +thus secure your children against your weakness. Earth would be ruined +if you persist in ruining yourselves, for you are her Genius, her +inventive and working Soul. She lives by your life, and if you die +she also will die. In the name, then, of Humanity and of Nature, too, +Nations! Attention! Mercy for yourselves; Earth supplies you with the +means of laboring and living; THE SEA offers you the still better +means of living WELL. + + + + +NOTES. + + +"That vast animal the Earth, which for heart has a magnet, has at its +surface a doubtful being, electric and phosphorescent, more sensitive, +and infinitely more prolific, than the Earth itself. + +"That being which we call the Sea,--is it a parasite of the vast +animal which we call the Earth? No. It has not a distinct and hostile +personality. It vivifies and fecundates the Earth with its vapors; it +even appears to be the Earth itself in that which it has of the most +productive; in other words, its principal organ of fecundity." + +German Dreams! But are they, in feet, entirely Dreams? More than one +great mind, without going quite so far, seem to admit for both Earth +and Sea a kind of obscure personality. Ritter and Lyell say: "The +Earth labors herself; can she be impotent to organise herself? How are +we to imagine that the creative power which we observe in every being +on the globe can be denied to the globe itself?" But how does the +globe act? How at the present time does it obtain accretion? From the +Sea and its living denizens. + +The full solution of these great questions would require a more +profound study of Physiology than we as yet have made. Nevertheless, +during the last twenty years every thing tends this way: 1. We have +studied the irregular and exterior phase of the movements of the Sea, +we have inquired into the _Law of Storms_. 2. We have studied the +movements proper to the Sea, its _currents_, the play of its arteries +and veins, of which the first propel the salt water from the Equator +to the Poles, while the second return it, freshened, to the Equator: +3. The third and more difficult question on which modern chemistry +will throw light, is that as to the real nature of the marine _mucus_, +of that unctuous gelatine which is every where found in Sea water, and +which appears to be a living liquid. + +It is quite recently that the sounding of Brooke, and more especially +the soundings for the submarine telegraph from Europe to America, have +begun to reveal the secrets of the bottom of the Sea. Are its lowest +depths peopled? Formerly, that was denied, but Forbes and James Ross +found life throughout them. + +Previous to those splendid discoveries, which were made less than +twenty years ago, the book of the Sea could not be written. The first +attempt at writing it was made by M. Hartwig. For my own part, I was +still far from the idea of writing it when, in 1845, in preparing my +book of "The People," I commenced, in Normandy, my study of the +population of the Coasts. In the fifteen subsequent years, this vast +and difficult subject has been continually growing upon me, and has +followed me from shore to shore. + +The first book of this Volume--_A glance at the Seas_, is, as the +title indicates, merely a preliminary promenade. All the important +matters therein are discussed in the following three books. I except +two, however, _Tides_ and _Beacons_. Here my principal guide has been +M. Chazallon's important _Annual_, already numbering twenty volumes, +the first having appeared in 1839. If the Civic Crown was bestowed +upon the man who saved one human life, how many such crowns has not M. +Chazallon deserved! Anterior to his labors, the errors, as to the +tides, were enormous. By immense labor he has corrected the +observations for nearly five hundred ports from the Adour to the Elbe. +His _Annual_ gives the most exact information upon the Beacons. +Similarly valuable is the clear and agreeably written exposition in +the _Souvenirs_ of M. de Quatrefages on the Lighthouse system of +Fresnel and Arago. The admirable system of revolving lighthouses, in +which the lights flash and disappear, at short and regular intervals, +is due to Lemoine, Mayor of Calais. + +For the various names of the Sea refer to Ad. Pictet-_Origines +Indo-Europeennes_. On the water, consult the Introduction to Deville's +_Annual of the Waters of France_; Aime's _Annale's de Chimie_ II., V., +XII., XIII., and XV. Morren, the same, I, and Acad de Bruxelles, XIV., +&c. On the saltness of the Sea Chapman quoted by Tricaut _Ann. de +Hydrographie_ XIII., 1857, and Thomassy's _Bulletin de la Société +Geographique_, 4 June, 1860. + +I did not thoroughly comprehend the Shore of _Saint Michel en Greve_ +and the questions concerning it, until I read in the _Revue des Deux +Mondes_ the two very fine articles of M. Baude, full alike of facts +and ideas. I speak elsewhere of his excellent views on the Fisheries. + +In speaking (Chap. III.) of Brittany, I must acknowledge my obligation +to the book of Cambry which formerly gave me my first ideas upon that +subject. It should be read in the edition which Émile Souvestre +enriched, and we may say doubled, with his excellent notes and notices +which thenceforth made us thoroughly acquainted with the _Derniers +Bretons_. In several admirable little tales of graphic and striking +truthfulness, Souvestre has given the best existing pictures of our +western coasts, especially of Finisterre and the neighboring shores of +the Loire. I should be glad to quote something from a writer so +agreeable, and a friend so sincerely lamented, but the limits of this +little book prevent me from quoting any literary matter. + +The remarkable observation made by Elie de Beaumont, quoted by me in +Chapter 4 of Book I., stands at the head of his article--which, in +itself, is a great book--_Terrains_ in the Dictionary of M. d'Orbigny. + +What I have said about St. George's, in Chapter 7, is much better said +in Pelletan's books on _Royan_ and in his _Pasteur du Desert_. That +Pastor, as is generally known, was the grandfather of Pelletan, the +reverend minister Jarousseau, so admirably heroic in saving his +enemies. His small house, still standing, is a veritable Temple of +Humanity. + +Notes to Book 2. Chapter I, _Fecundity_. On the Herring, see Vol. I of +De Reste's translation of an anonymous Dutch work; Noël de la +Moriniere in his excellent works printed and unpublished; +Valenciences' _Poissons_, &c. + +Chapter II. _Milky Sea._ Bory de Saint Vincent, _Diet. Classique_, +Articles _Mer et Matieres_; Zimmerman, the _World before Man_, a +beautiful and popular work which is in every one's hands. I am +indebted also to the work of M. Bronn, crowned by the _Academy of the +Sciences_. On the universal innocuousness of the vegetation of the +Sea, consult Pouchet's _Botanique_ a work of the highest order. For +the plants which become animals; see Vaucher's Conferves, 1803; +Decaisne and Thuret _Annales de Sc. Nat._, 1845; Volumes III., XIV. +and XVI., and _Comptes de l'Acad._, 1853, Vol. XXXVI.; also, articles +of Montagne Dict d'Orb. On the Volcanoes, see part 4, of Humboldt's +Cosmos, and Ritter, translated by Elisee Reclus, _Revue Germ._, 30th +November, 1859. + +Chapter III. _The Atom._ In the text I have quoted the great masters, +Ehrenberg, Dujardin, Pouchet, Heterogenie. In the end spontaneous +generation will conquer. + +Chapters IV., V., VI., &c. Throughout this book, in ascending from +inferior to superior life, I have taken for my guiding thread in the +great labyrinth, the hypothesis of Metamorphosis but without serious +intention of constructing a _chain of beings_. The idea of ascending +Metamorphosis is natural to the mind, and is, in some sort, +irresistibly imposed upon us. Cuvier himself, at the close of his +Introduction to his _Poissons_, confesses that if that theory has no +Historical value it _has a logical value_. On the _Sponge_, see Paul +Gervais Dict. d'Orb. V. 375; Grant in Chenn, 307, &c. On Polypes, +Corals, and Madrepores (Chapters 4 and 5) besides Forster, Peron and +Dawin consult Quoy and Gaimard; Lamouroux, _Polypes Flexibles_; Milne +Edwards, Polypes and Ascidies of the Channel, &c. On the Calcaire, see +the two Geologies of Lyell. + +Chapter VI. _Medusæ, Polypes, &c._ See Ehrenberg, Lession, Dujardin, +&c. Forbes shows by vegetable analogies that these animal +metamorphoses are very simple phenomena. Annals of Nat. History, +December, 1844. See also his excellent dissertations, _Medusæ_, in +quarto, 1849. + +Chapter VII. _The Oursin or Sea Hedgehog._ See the curious +dissertations in which M. Cailland has described his discoveries. + +Chapter VIII. _Shells, Pearl, and Mother of Pearl._ The capital work +on these is Blainville's _Malacology_. See, also, on the Pearl Mabius +of Hamburgh, _Revue Germ._, July 31, 1858. I have profitably consulted +on this subject our celebrated Jeweller, M. Froment Meurice. + +Chapter IX. _The Poulpe._ Cuvier, Blainville, Dujardin Ann. des +Sciences Nat., first series, Vol. V. p. 214, and second series Vols. +3, 16, and 17; Robin and Secord, Locomotion of Cephalapodes, Revue de +Zoology, 1849, p. 333. + +Chapter X. _Crustaceæ._ Besides the classical and important work of +Milne Edwards, I have consulted d'Orbigny and various travelers. See, +also, the fine Atlas of Dumont d'Urville. + +Chapter XI. _Fish._ The Introduction of Cuvier, Valenciennes' article +Fish, in d'Orbigny's Dictionary. This last article is a complete book, +learned and excellent. On the anatomy of Fish see the celebrated +dissertation of Geoffroy. For what I have said on the nests made by +spawning Fish I am indebted to Messrs. Caste and Gerbe. + +Chapters XII and XIII. _Whales, Amphibii and Syrens._ Here, Lacepede +is at once instructive and eloquent. Nothing can be better than +Boitard's articles in d'Orbigny's Dictionary. + +Notes to Book 3. _Conquest of the Sea._ This book sprang naturally out +of my perusal of travels and voyages from the first History of Dieppe, +by Vitel Estancelin, down to the recent discoveries. Especially +consult Kerquelon, John Ross, Parry, Weddell, Dumont, d'Urville, James +Ross, and Kane; Biot in the _Journal des Savants_ and the luminous and +precious abridgement of those works, by M. Langele in the _Revue des +deux Mondes_. On the Fishery, besides the great works of Duhamel, see +Tiphaine, "Economie History of the Western Seas de France, 1760." + +Notes to Book 4. _Restoration by the Sea._ As long ago as 1725, +Maraigli seems to have suspected the presence of iodine. In 1730, an +anonymous work, _Comes Domesticus_, recommended Sea Bathing. + +The Bibliography of the Sea would be endless. There are many excellent +books. Among them I may mention "the Mediterranean Sea," by W. H. +Smith, 1854, the Manuals and Guide books of Guadet, Roccas, Cochet, +Ernst, &c. + +On the degeneracy of Races, see Morel, 1857: Magnus Huss, +"_Alcoholismus_," 1852, &c. + +I owe my acquaintance with the pamphlet of Doctor Barellay (_Ospizi +Marini_) to my illustrious friend Montanelli, and to the delightful +articles of M. Dall' Ongaro. + + + + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration] + + _NEW BOOKS_ + + And New Editions Recently Published by + + RUDD & CARLETON, + _150 GRAND STREET, NEW YORK._ + (BROOKS BUILDING, COR. OF BROADWAY.) + +[Illustration] + + N.B.--Rudd & Carleton, upon receipt of the price, will send + any of the following Books, by mail, postage free, to any + part of the United States. This convenient and very safe mode + may be adopted when the neighboring Booksellers are not + supplied with the desired work. + +[Illustration] + + +_NOTHING TO WEAR._ + +A satirical poem, by William Allen Butler. With illustrations by A. +Hoppin. 12mo. muslin, 50 cts. + + +_ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT._ + +A new and popular biography, including his travels and labors, with an +introduction by Bayard Taylor. 12mo. muslin, $1.25. + + +_HUMBOLDT'S PRIVATE LETTERS._ + +Alexander Von Humboldt's private correspondence with Varnhagen von +Ense and other contemporary celebrities; translated from the German. +12mo., $1.25. + + +_THE GREAT TRIBULATION._ + +Or, Things coming on the Earth. By Rev. John Cumming, D.D., author of +"Apocalyptic Sketches," &c. In two volumes 12mo. muslin, either sold +separately, $1.00 each. + + +_THE GREAT PREPARATION._ + +Or, Redemption draweth Nigh. By Rev. John Cumming, D.D., author of +"The Great Tribulation," &c. In two volumes 12mo. muslin, either sold +separately, $1.00 each. + + +_A WOMAN'S THOUGHTS ABOUT WOMEN._ + +By Miss Muloch ; author of "John Halifax, Gentleman," "A Life for a +Life," &c. 12mo. muslin, $1.00. + + +_THE HABITS OF GOOD SOCIETY._ + +A handbook for ladies and gentlemen; with thoughts, hints, and +anecdotes concerning social observances, taste, and good manners. +12mo. muslin, $1.25. + +_LOVE (L'AMOUR)._ + +From the French of M. Jules Michelet, author of "A History of France," +&c., translated by Dr. J. W. Palmer, 12mo. muslin, $1.00. + + +_WOMAN (LA FEMME)._ + +A continuation of "L'Amour." Translated from the French of Michelet by +Dr. Palmer. 12mo. muslin, $1.00. + + +_THE CHILD (L'ENFANT)._ + +Sequel to "L'Amour" and "La Femme." Translated from the French of +Michelet. 12mo. muslin, $1.00 (in press). + + +_THE BIRD (L'OISEAU)._ + +From the French of M. Michelet, translated by Dr. J. W. Palmer. 12mo. +muslin, $1.00 (in press). + + +_THE INSECT (L'INSÈCTE)._ + +From the French of M. Michelet, translated by Dr. J. W. Palmer. 12mo. +muslin, $1.00 (in press). + + +_WOMEN OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION._ + +From the French of M. Michelet, translated by Dr. J. W. Palmer. 12mo. +muslin, $1.00 (in press). + + +_THE MORAL HISTORY OF WOMEN._ + +An Offset to "L'Amour," translated from the French of Ernest Legouvé +by Dr. Palmer. 12mo. muslin, $1.00. + + +_VICTOIRE._ + +A new American novel. 12mo. muslin, $1.25 (in press). + + +_THE CULPRIT FAY._ + +A faëry poem by Joseph Rodman Drake. Elegantly printed on tinted +paper. 12mo. muslin, 50 cts. + + +_DOCTOR ANTONIO._ + +A Tale of Italy. By G. Ruffini, author of "Lorenzo Benoni," &c. 12mo. +muslin, $1.25. + + +_LAVINIA._ + +A new novel of Italian Life, by G. Ruffini; author of "Doctor +Antonio," &c. 12mo. muslin, $1.25. + + +_DEAR EXPERIENCE._ + +A novel by G. Ruffini; author of "Doctor Antonio," &c. 12mo. muslin, +illustrated, $1.00. + + +_BEATRICE CENCI._ + +A novel, translated from the Italian of F. D. Guerrazzi, by Luigi +Monti of Harvard College. 12mo. muslin, $1.25. + + +_ISABELLA ORSINI._ + +An Historical novel, translated from the Italian of Guerrazzi, author +of "Beatrice Cenci." 12mo. muslin, $1.25. + + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Note + + +Some presumed typose were corrected. Although most words were left as +per the printed version, some standardization was made (ex., Arcachon +for Archachon, Archacon and Arrachon). Based on some research, the +following list of changes were made. + + + Page(s) Change + ======== =========== + 26 Grindenwald => Grindelwald + 28, 173 Livingston => Livingstone + 34 Sheveningen => Scheveningen + 32 Eloretat => Étretat and Fecamp => Fécamp + 98 Biarrity => Biarritz + 99 Hèaux => Héaux and Epees de Treguier => Épées de Tréguier + 133 Ponchet => Pouchet + 149, 152 Geoffray => Geoffroy + 158 Added missing quotes at end of top and begining + of next paragraph + 165 Medea => Medusa + 171 Vetelles => Velelles + 222 everything that comes in their path--animals, ("path--" added) + 236 Cataceæ => Cetaceæ + 402 appearing => appeared + 404 Chapter IX. _Fish._ => Chapter XI. _Fish._ + ad2 LA VINIA => LAVINIA + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea, by Jules Michelet + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42845 *** |