greater part of the effects which the sailors had
saved from the Medusa. Our bark was nearly sunk; the females and the
children lay rolling in its bottom, drinking the waters of bitterness;
and their cries, mixed with the roaring of the waves and the furious
north wind, increased the horrors of the scene. My unfortunate father
then experienced the most excruciating agony of mind. The idea of the
loss which the shipwreck had occasioned to him, and the danger which
still menaced all he held dearest in the world, plunged him into a deep
swoon. The tenderness of his wife and children recovered him; but alas!
his recovery was to still more bitterly to deplore the wretched
situation of his family. He clasped us to his bosom; he bathed us with
his tears, and seemed as if he was regarding us with his last looks of
love.

Every soul in the boat were seized with the same perturbation, but it
manifested itself in different ways. One part of the sailors remained
motionless, in a bewildered state; the other cheered and encouraged one
another; the children, locked in the arms of their parents, wept
incessantly. Some demanded drink, vomiting the salt water which choked
them; others, in short, embraced as for the last time, intertwining
their arms, and vowing to die together.

In the meanwhile the sea became rougher and rougher. The whole surface
of the ocean seemed a vast plain furrowed with huge blackish waves
fringed with white foam. The thunder growled around us, and the
lightning discovered to our eyes all that our imagination could conceive
most horrible. Our boat, beset on all sides by the winds, and at every
instant tossed on the summit of mountains of water, was very nearly sunk
in spite of our every effort in baling it, when we discovered a large
hole in its poop. It was instantly stuffed with every thing we could
find;--old clothes, sleeves of shirts, shreds of coats, shawls, useless
bonnets, every thing was employed, and secured us as far as it was
possible. During the space of six hours, we rowed suspended alternately
between hope and fear, between life and death. At last towards the
middle of the night, Heaven, which had seen our resignation, commanded
the floods to be still. Instantly the sea became less rough, the veil
which covered the sky became less obscure, the stars again shone out,
and the tempest seemed to withdraw. A general exclamation of joy and
thankfulness issued at one instant from every mouth. The winds