dustry—particularly industry. There is no religion, except a vague form of Pantheism. There is no drama, save the one everlasting miracle play, which has the dawn for its Prologue, and morning, afternoon, evening, and night for its Acts. There are even no amusements—or none as the word and the thing are understood ashore. Sport and pastime no longer possess any traces of their terrene meaning. At sea there need not be, nor is there, any element in them which either promises excitement or pre-supposes skill. Otherwise, how could the most adventurous spirit derive full satisfaction, as it does, from bezique in the saloon, or the masculine intelligence find contentment in the imbecility of deck-quoits?
It is on the short voyage, the three, four, or five days' steam, as from one Mediterranean port to another, that these curious phenomena are most commonly to be remarked. The six or seven days' breathless run across the Atlantic in the "floating
