The Washington critic., 1886-07-17
A POET OUT AT SEA,

Trade and travel, telegraph and
steam, have made widely separated
peoples next door neighbors, as 1t were,
and the sea, divested of its mystery, is
becoming almost as commonplace as
the land. Man will soon have to be
classified with the other amphibious
animals.
Whoever has read can American
Four-in- Hand in Britain" by the genial
Andrew Carnegie, will remember that
after embarking upon the Bothnia at
New York for Liverpool, with few
sentimental remarks appropriate to the
occasion, he says: Now comes II
splendid place to skip-the ocean voy-
age. Everybody writes that up on the
first trip"
True 1t is that In the hands of the
average letter-writer or tourist the sub
ject is trite and unattractive. What
was once great event and rare ex-
perience is of as little general interest
now, excepting perhaps to those who
uuNC HCNtI sblb Nultl, uS Iut
voyage from New York to New Haven
or Washington to Norfolk.
Yet not thus flippantly, O. Sea, shall
we permit thee to be put aside. An
drew Carnegie himself, matter of fact
and weather-worn traveller, Pittsburg
millionaire and iron master, as he is, is
yet poet enough, were he SO disposed to
invest the familiar topic with new and
entertaining zest. Even so tame a
thing as trip on passenger steamer
is possessed of never-failing sugges-
tiveness to those who hold loyal com
munion with Nature. In his India
Revisited" Mr.. Edwin Arnold, who
made the trip from London to Bombay
by the Oriental steamer Paramatta,
presents us with number of marine
views that are as fresh and breezy as
though never descriptive line of sea-
travel had been written. What speak.
ing picture is this, for instance, adown
the Thames and out to sea-
A chill October breeze had set the light,
green waves dancing, but our powerful yes
sci OF 5000 tons did not deign to move seri-
ously to these land-lockod billows, and the
greater part Of the passengers were able to
Keep the deck as point after point Of that
well-known and well-loved coast passed
into the misty horizon astern. Shakespeare
great, bright cliff; the folded downs above
folkestone, half yelled by sea-clouds and
half lighted by pale sunshine; the low
chine Of DuDgeness and the lofty white
buttresses OF Beachy Head; the faint CLEANS
OF houses and hanging smoke 10 show
where Eastbourne, Hastings aud Brighton
safe on the seas brink-these rise up from
the west and glide away into the east, until
the Paramatta sieams within her owr
length of the Royal Sovereign lightship
steering for the southernmost corner Of the
Isle OF Wight.
Approaching the Bay of Blscay
which, even to the professional eye
looks upon the map "a terribly oper
corner of the vast Atlantic" Mr.
Arnold INDUCES in the following bit o.
word painting, which, in accuracy o.
detail and delicacy of touch, is so fal
above the ordinary that we fancy moth
ing like 1t was ever done before:
The bay was forbeariug and did not b,
any means put forth Its utmost power OF
storm and turmoil. The sea- changed nov
from the meadow-green hue OF sounding
TO the cold, deep, CLASSY blue of ocean, RAJ
in long glistening hollows, laced witt
creamy foam, on either side Of the 1ynl
steamer, the pallid track of which lay broad
IN her wake far under the gray archway oi
the sky. As each billow reaches its highest
point OF elevation, the wind seizes the cres
and snatches some Of it violently TO lee
ward in fine spindrift, upon which the flt
ful sunlight paints eyanescent but lovely
little rainbows. The more solid portion
falls back upon the sinking breast OF the
wave In white sheets, which spread out into
woven nets and swaylng chains OF tangled
and delicate sea-embroidery, draping the
dark purple hollow from ridge to base, till
the ocean, seen from certain points, looks
as II wine were yelled with curded milk.
80 ~ The good ship goes toward tho