While his associates were wildly shouting, in a dozen different keys, the burthen of the song, Log, in whom the exertion of singing had destroyed the little sense he had remaining, as he was swinging his body back, lost his balance, pitched head over heels off his seat, and then rolled under the table, in a state of complete insensibility.
[CHAP. VIII.]
THE PIRATES.
“’Tis a lovely night!” observed Oriel Porphyry, as he stood upon the deck of the Albatross, watching the fast receding shores of Africa.
“Indeed it is,” said his companion. “The air is filled with beauty, and there is an eloquent glory in the stars that speaks marvels of wisdom. See how the rolling waves rush on, bathed with the trembling light from above them—so do the multitudinous hearts within the world send forth their tide, each illumined by glimpses of a heaven of its own. The planets look down upon the waters, and from their mighty mirror drink in the images of their own loveliness—just as the maiden venturing to gaze into the glowing eyes of the youth of whom she is enamoured, sees in their depths the reflection of her own beauty, and lingers delighted within the influence of the charm she herself created. But what a philanthropist is the world! A universal spirit of love exists around us, and beneath its outstretched wings throbs the everlasting heart of the universe, distributing through its rosy channels that refreshing stream which is the life, the strength, the humanity of nature. What a wonder is the world! All within the boundless circle of infinity, with a harmony of soul-entrancing modulations, tune the same music to the ear. Systems of worlds, and worlds of systems—each earth blessed with its own sun, moon, and stars, that fill its atmosphere with gladness, and its waters with delight, rejoicing in the abundance in which it rears its countless offspring, that draw their verdure, their fragrance, and their consummate grace, from the exhaustless nourishment of its breast, rolls on in one unvarying course, carrying with it the fond desires of youth, the proud ambition of manhood, and the peaceful speculations of age; while, as the stream of Time progresses on its way to float them into the shoreless ocean of Eternity, its own nature, keeping a continual change in all things which have from it their existence, from the beginning hath followed its particular path in the glad possession of a perpetual youth. What a gladness is the world! There is not a creature born of its most fruitful womb that is not taught to slake its thirst and bathe its buoyant limbs in the fountain of delight that flows for all. Smiles and flowers are about us from our infancy. The air breathes of gladness. The clear firmament looks down on us in bliss. The leaves that quiver in the breeze dance for joy, and the stream that wandereth on its way singeth its own merry tune. The voice of song murmurs a continual carol that stirs the hearts of the antique forest trees, and the echoes of the mighty hills—in swelling tones the vigorous wind joins in the thrilling harmony—and as the natural concert rises into power, into its gladdening sounds the deep sea roars its triumphant chorus.”
“You are eloquent, Zabra!” remarked Oriel, gazing with wondering eyes upon the handsome countenance of his companion, which appeared more than usually excited.
“’T is a fit time, and a most fitting subject for eloquence,” he replied; “and if the soul hath such impulses, never were they more likely to be called into action than on such an occasion, and with such a theme as I have now. We are again upon the sea. That is sufficient impetus for the thought. We have left the dwellings of men whose souls were devoted to the mere scraping together wealth they would not use for any benefit to their fellow-creatures, and could not expend with any happiness to themselves.”
“Ay, I am glad I have escaped from the place,” said the young merchant. “It has given me every thing but a favourable impression of the pleasures of traffic. Each person I met seemed anxiously intent upon cheating me; and, if I had not been carefully attentive to my father’s instructions, before I had left their filthy town I should have been plundered of every bale of goods in my possession. As for Master Boor, he is as fine a sample of deliberate roguery as I ever met with.”