These losses, however, are at the time partly relieved
by the exhaustless delight of anticipating the long-wished-for day
of return. If, as poets say, life is a dream, I am sure in a voyage
these are the visions which best serve to pass away the long night.
Other losses, although not at first felt, tell heavily after a
period: these are the want of room, of seclusion, of rest; the
jading feeling of constant hurry; the privation of small luxuries,
the loss of domestic society and even of music and the other
pleasures of imagination. When such trifles are mentioned, it is
evident that the real grievances, excepting from accidents, of a
sea-life are at an end. The short space of sixty years has made an
astonishing difference in the facility of distant navigation. Even
in the time of Cook, a man who left his fireside for such
expeditions underwent severe privations. A yacht now, with every
luxury of life, can circumnavigate the globe. Besides the vast
improvements in ships and naval resources, the whole western shores
of America are thrown open, and Australia has become the capital of
a rising continent. How different are the circumstances to a man
shipwrecked at the present day in the Pacific, to what they were in
the time of Cook! Since his voyage a hemisphere has been added to
the civilised world.
Pages:
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961