Not the least of the many charms exercised by the deep and wide sea upon its bond-servants are the voices by which it makes known its ever-changing moods. They are not for all ears to hear. Many a sailor spends the greater part of a long life in closest with the ocean, yet to its beauties he is blind; no realised sense of his with the immensity of the Universe ever makes the hair of his flesh stand up, and to the music of the unresting deep his ears of are closely sealed. Not that unto any one of the sons of men is it ever given to be with all the phases of delight belonging to the sea. For some cannot endure the call of deep answering unto deep, the terrible thundering of the untrammelled ocean in harmony with the uttermost diapason of the storm-wind. All their finer perceptions are benumbed by fear. And other some, who are yet unable to rejoice in the sombre glory of the tempest-tones, are intolerant of the lightsome glee born of and sunlight when the sweet of the radiant breaths is like the cooing of care-free , and every dancing wavelet wears a many-dimpled smile. For them there must be a breeze of strength with[293] a strident, swaggering sea through which the well-found ship ploughs her steady way at utmost speed with every rounded sail distent like a cherub’s cheek, and every rope and stay humming a merry . Least of all in number are those who can enjoy a perfect calm. Indeed, in these , days of ours opportunities of so doing are daily becoming fewer. The panting tears up the silken veil of the sea like some monster in a garden of sleep making of its beauty. She makes her own wind by her swift thrust through the restful atmosphere, although there be in reality none astir even sufficient to the shining surface before her.  
Still, the fact must not be overlooked that many sea-farers do verily enjoy to the full all sea-sights and sea-sounds, but of their pleasures they cannot speak. Deep silent content is theirs, a perfect complacency of delight that length of acquaintanceship only makes richer and more satisfying, until, as the very structure of the Stradivarius is with music, so the ’s whole being absorbs, and becomes with, the magic of wind and wave. This incommunicable joy a might well envy its possessor, for it is independent of environment, so that although the seafarer may grow old and feeble, be far away from his well-beloved sea, even blind and deaf, yet within his soul will still vibrate those harmonies, and with inward eyes he can feast a farther-reaching vision than ever over those glorious fenceless fields.
 
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The voices of the sea are many, but their speech is one. Naturally, perhaps, the thought turns first to the tremendous chorus uplifted in the hurricane, that and swells until even the tropical thunder’s cannonade is unheard, drowned deep beneath the flood of song poured by the rejoicing sea. Many have been chosen to characterise the storm-song of the ocean. None of them can ever hope to satisfy completely, for all must bear some definite reflex of the minds of their utterers, according as they have been impressed by their experiences or imaginings. But to my mind most of the terms used are out of place and misleading. They generally endeavour to describe the sea as a monster, a howling destroyer of unthinking ferocity, and the like. , it is very natural so to do. For when this feeble frame must needs confront the resounding main in the plenitude of its power, our mortal part must perforce feel and acknowledge its , must and shake with fear, although that part of us which is to the Infinite may vainly desire to rejoice with all seas and floods that praise Him and magnify Him for ever. Not in the presence of ocean shouting his of praise may we satisfy our desire to join in the lay, although we know how full of benefits to our race are the forces made in that majestic Lobgesang. As the all-conquering flood of sound, with a volume as if God were the globe of the universe, rolls on, we may hear the cry, “Life and[295] strength and joy do I bring. Before my resistless march darkness, disease, and death must flee. When beneath my chariot-wheels man is overwhelmed, not mine the blame. I do but fulfil mine appointed way, health, , and over every living thing.”
 
But when as yet the sky is above and the surface of the slumbering depths is just by a gentle air, there may often be heard another voice, as if some gigantic orchestra in another star was preparing for the signal to burst forth into such music as belongs not to our little planet. Fitful notes in many keys, long sustained and all , the voyager without and within. Now high, now low, but ever tending to deepen and become more massive in tone, this unearthly symphony is full of warning. It bids the make ready against the of the fast approaching storm, that, still some hundreds of leagues distant, is sending its pursuivants before its face. Nor are these spirit-stirring chords due to the harp-like offered by the web of rigging spread about the masts of a ship to the rising wind. It may be heard even more definitely in an open boat far from any ship or shore, although there, perhaps because of the great loneliness of the situation, it always seems to take a tone of deeper , as if in sympathy with the helplessness of the human creatures thus from their fellows. It belongs, almost exclusively, to the extra-tropical regions where storms are many. And within a certain compass,[296] its intimates find little variation of its scale. Always beginning in the treble clef and by regular waves gradually until with the incidence of the storm it blends into the grand triumphal march spoken of before. But when it is heard within the tropics let the mariner beware. None can ever mistake its , sharpening every little while into a scream as if impatient that its warning should be without delay. It searches the very of the bones, and beasts as well as men look up and are much afraid. For it is the of the hurricane, before which the bravest seaman , when sea and sky seem to meet and , the waters that are above the with the waters that are under the firmament, as in the days before God said “Let there be light.”
 
Far different again is the cheerful voice of the Trade wind over the laughing happy sea of those pleasant . No note of sadness or melancholy is to be detected there. Brisk and bright, confident and gay, it bids the sailor be gl............