appeared by the strength of her volition to become insensible. The
mail-bags (O that I myself had the sea-legs of a mail-bag!) were
tumbled aboard; the Packet left off roaring, warped out, and made
at the white line upon the bar. One dip, one roll, one break of
the sea over her bows, and Moore's Almanack or the sage Raphael
could not have told me more of the state of things aboard, than I
knew.

The famous chapter was all but begun now, and would have been quite
begun, but for the wind. It was blowing stiffly from the east, and
it rumbled in the chimney and shook the house. That was not much;
but, looking out into the wind's grey eye for inspiration, I laid
down my pen again to make the remark to myself, how emphatically
everything by the sea declares that it has a great concern in the
state of the wind. The trees blown all one way; the defences of
the harbour reared highest and strongest against the raging point;
the shingle flung up on the beach from the same direction; the
number of arrows pointed at the common enemy; the sea tumbling in
and rushing towards them as if it were inflamed by the sight. This
put it in my head that I really ought to go out and take a walk in
the wind; so, I gave up the magnificent chapter for that day,
entirely persuading myself that I was under a moral obligation to
have a blow.

I had a good one, and that on the high road - the very high road -
on the top of the cliffs, where I met the stage-coach with all the
outsides holding their hats on and themselves too, and overtook a
flock of sheep with the wool about their necks blown into such
great ruffs that they looked like fleecy owls. The wind played
upon the lighthouse as if it were a great whistle, the spray was