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But how far more beautiful than aught ever written by mere uninspired man- how strictly, literally true, the description given by the Royal Psalmist :-“ They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters; these men see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For at his word the stormy wind ariseth, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They are carried up to the heaven, and down again to the deep; their soul melteth away because of the trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man; and are at their wits' end. So when they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, he delivereth them out of their distress. For he maketh the storm to cease; so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad, because they are at rest; and so he bringeth them unto the haven where they would be."
Another phase of God's “wonders in the deep” was also occasionally revealed to us in all its beauty and grandeur, when the still, die-away calm was rudely broken by the tornado squall, when “the Lord also thundered out of heaven, and the Highest gave his thunder ; hailstones and coals of fire ;" when “ the clouds poured out waters, the air thundered, and His arrows went abroad;—when
of the voice of His thunder was heard round about,” and “the lightnings shone upon the ground;"— thus making us ever to understand that His “way is in the sea, and His paths in the great waters."
Captain Robertson had been long accustomed to carry passengers in his vessel; and interest, as well as the promptings of a naturally kind disposition, caused him to study their comfort to the utmost, and devise means to cheat away
the dull hours that will be found to hang more or less heavy on the hands of all people shut out from the pleasures and business of life, deprived of all their wonted occupations and amusements.
A couple of fiddles and a flageolet formed the entire band of the “ Intrepid,” but this was found sufficient to mark time for the quadrille, polka, or valse, when a fine calm evening tempted his guests to join in the dance.
The marine chess-board, with its holes, into which the men were firmly fixed by a pey, thus defying the lurching and rolling of the ship, and enabling the players to continue their game regardless of wind or weather, was found a great resource to some, whilst û quiet party was often formed in the evening to play a rubber at whist.
For the rest, there was the usual sport afforded by the capture of the finny tribe, such at least as are in the habit of frequenting the surface-waters of the deep sea, and courting the dangerous acquaintance of man.
Now a shoal of porpoises would surround the vessel, and accompany her in her course, crossing and re-crossing her bows, as if in playful mockery of her tardy pace. Dangerous sport! they little reck of peril from that Long Tom Coffin, who, harpoon in hand, stands on the back-ropes, supporting himself by the dolphin-striker, which he half embraces, in act to hurl his barbed weapon at the first thoughtless creature that may venture within his range. They roll, they dart, they tumble, they leap from the water in the very wantonness of their mirth, grunting and puffing as from a lack of breath to continue their rapid progress. Suddenly an unlucky wretch rises near to the surface, within a few yards of the harpooner, and in an instant is transfixed by his iron, whilst his dark crimson blood discolours the pure wave. A glad shout re-echoes from the forecastle, a dozen willing hands seize the line attached to the instrument, and, quick as thought, the huge fish is hauled upon the deck, quivering and writhing in its expiring agony, and staining the white planks with its gore.
A dying dolphin now exhibits its delicate, but evanescent, tints to the admiring spectator. His pitiful feelings are excited by its expiring struggles and its rare beauty. The fisherman plunges his knife into its belly, and lays its contents bare to view. What is that he is taking from the creature's stomach ? A poor flying-fish! one of those beautiful little creatures which so arrested your attention by their graceful flight, as they fluttered, like swallows, over the face of the deep, tipping the crests of the waves with their delicate wings to enable them to continue their brief career ;
of those little creatures which V-ate with so much relish for his breakfast, comparing it to whiting for flavour and delicacy, and whose wings are now spread to-day against the foremast. Thus is each created thing made to be food for other, and all for man.
What stir and bustle is that I hear on deck? can it be some poor fellow overboard? No; I hear the mate calling to the steward to bring up a piece of pork: it must be a shark for whom this dainty morsel is required. Let us haste and see the fun.
A large fellow, by my conscience ! ten feet long
if he is an inch! He is hungry, he snatches ravenously at every bit of oakum or bunch of shavings thrown to him. Hasten with the pork, and bait the hook with it; in his present mood he will hardly fail to bolt it in an instant.
The shark-hook, baited with four pounds of fat salt pork, is fastened to a stout rope, and thrown into the sea over the ship’s stern. The shark approaches quickly, smells at it, and turns away. The man holding the rope now splashes the bait about in the water; again the shark is attracted towards it, nibbles at it, and turns again away. The bait is withdrawn from the water, and then thrown suddenly into it again. This time the brute can govern his appetite no longer; he darts swiftly at it, turns well nigh upon
his back, and swallows the tempting prize, hook and all, in a moment. Now “ the tug of war commences. One good jerk, and the sharp hook has transfixed his jaw. In vain he strives to shake it from his mouth, in vain he endeavours to bite the chain which connects it with the rope. Sharp as are his triple rows of teeth, and powerful as are his jaws, he finds the task above his strength.
Now he dives beneath the surface of the water, now leaps madly from it. Give him line enoug