off again. I never saw anything seem so extinguished out of the
universe as that great vessel, which had towered so colossal
above my little boat; it was impossible to imagine that she was
all there yet, beneath the foaming and indifferent waves. No
effort has yet been made to raise her; and a dead eagle seems to
have more in common with the living bird than has now this
submerged and decaying hulk with the white and winged creature
that came sailing into our harbor on that summer day.

It shows what conversational resources are always at hand in a
seaport town, that the boatman with whom I first happened to
visit this burning vessel had been thrice at sea on ships
similarly destroyed, and could give all the particulars of their
fate. I know no class of uneducated men whose talk is so apt to
be worth hearing as that of sailors. Even apart from their
personal adventures and their glimpses at foreign lands, they
have made observations of nature which are far more careful and
minute than those of farmers, because the very lives of sailors
are always at risk. Their voyages have also made them sociable
and fond of talk, while the pursuits of most men tend to make
them silent; and their constant changes of scene, though not
touching them very deeply, have really given a certain
enlargement to their minds. A quiet demeanor in a seaport town
proves nothing; the most inconspicuous man may have the most
thrilling career to look back upon. With what a superb
familiarity do these men treat this habitable globe! Cape Horn
and the Cape of Good Hope are in their phrase but the West Cape
and the East Cape, merely two familiar portals of their wonted
home. With what undisguised contempt they speak of the enthusiasm
displayed over the ocean yacht-race! That any man should boast of