Book: Elson Grammer School Literature, Book Four.

W >> William H. Elson and Christine Keck >> Elson Grammer School Literature, Book Four.




"It could not have been more than two minutes afterwards until we suddenly
felt the waves subside, and were enveloped in foam. The boat made a sharp
half turn to larboard, and then shot off in its new direction like a
thunderbolt. At the same moment the roaring noise of the water was
completely drowned in a kind of shrill shriek--such a sound as you might
imagine given out by the waterpipes of many thousand steam vessels, letting
off their steam all together. We were now in the belt of surf that always
surrounds the whirl; and I thought, of course, that another moment would
plunge us into the abyss--down which we could only see indistinctly on
account of the amazing velocity with which we were borne along. The boat
did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to skim like an air-bubble
upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side was next the whirl, and
on the larboard arose the world of ocean we had left. It stood like a huge
writhing wall between us and the horizon.

"It may appear strange, but now, when we were in the very jaws of the gulf,
I felt more composed than when we were only approaching it. Having made up
my mind to hope no more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror which
unmanned me at first. I suppose it was despair that strung my nerves.

"It may look like boasting--but what I tell you is truth--I began to
reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in such a manner, and how
foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a consideration as my own
individual life, in view of so wonderful a manifestation of God's power. I
do believe that I blushed with shame when this idea crossed my mind. After
a little while I became possessed with the keenest curiosity about the
whirl itself. I positively felt a _wish_ to explore its depths, even
at the sacrifice I was going to make; and my principal grief was that I
should never be able to tell my old companions on shore about the mysteries
I should see. These, no doubt, were singular fancies to occupy a man's mind
in such extremity--and I have often thought since, that the revolutions of
the boat around the pool might have rendered me a little light-headed.

"There was another circumstance which tended to restore my self-possession;
and this was the cessation of the wind, which could not reach us in our
present situation--for, as you saw yourself, the belt of surf is
considerably lower than the general bed of the ocean, and this latter now
towered above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge. If you have never been
at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of the confusion of mind
occasioned by the wind and spray together. They blind, deafen, and strangle
you, and take away all power of action or reflection. But we were now, in a
great measure, rid of these annoyances--just as death-condemned felons in
prisons are allowed petty indulgences, forbidden them while their doom is
yet uncertain.

"How often we made the circuit of the belt it is impossible to say. We
careered round and round for perhaps an hour, flying rather than floating,
getting gradually more and more into the middle of the surge, and then
nearer and nearer to its horrible inner edge. All this time I had never let
go of the ringbolt. My brother was at the stern, holding on to a small
empty water-cask which had been securely lashed under the coop of the
counter, and was the only thing on deck that had not been swept overboard
when the gale first took us. As we approached the brink of the pit he let
go his hold upon this, and made for the ring, from which, in the agony of
his terror, he endeavored to force my hands, as it was not large enough to
afford us both a secure grasp. I never felt deeper grief than when I saw
him attempt this act--although I knew he was a madman when he did it--a
raving maniac through sheer fright. I did not care, however, to contest the
point with him. I knew it could make no difference whether either of us
held on at all; so I let him have the bolt, and went astern to the cask.
This there was no great difficulty in doing; for the smack flew round
steadily enough, and upon an even keel--only swaying to and fro, with the
immense sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had I secured myself in
my new position, when we gave a wild lurch to starboard, and rushed
headlong into the abyss. I muttered a hurried prayer to God, and thought
all was over.

"As I felt the sickening sweep of the descent, I had instinctively
tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed my eyes. For some seconds I
dared not open them--while I expected instant destruction, and wondered
that I was not already in my death-struggles with the water. But moment
after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling had ceased; and
the motion of the vessel seemed much as it had been before, while in the
belt of foam, with the exception that she now lay more along. I took
courage and looked once again upon the scene.

"Never shall I forget the sensations of awe, horror, and admiration with
which I gazed about me. The boat appeared to be hanging, as if by magic,
midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference,
prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might have been
mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity with which they spun
around, and for the gleaming and ghastly radiance they shot forth, as the
rays of the full moon, from that circular rift amid the clouds which I have
already described, streamed in a flood of golden glory along the black
walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses of the abyss.

"At first I was too much confused to observe anything accurately. The
general burst of terrific grandeur was all that I beheld. When I recovered
myself a little, however, my gaze fell instinctively downward. In this
direction I was able to obtain an unobstructed view, from the manner in
which the smack hung on the inclined surface of the pool. She was quite
upon an even keel--that is to say, her deck lay in a plane parallel with
that of the water--but this latter sloped at an angle of more than
forty-five degrees, so that we seemed to be lying upon our beam-ends. I
could not help observing, nevertheless, that I had scarcely more difficulty
in maintaining my hold and footing in this situation, than if we had been
upon a dead level; and this, I suppose, was owing to the speed at which we
revolved.

"The rays of the moon seemed to search the very bottom of the profound
gulf; but still I could make out nothing distinctly, on account of a thick
mist in which everything there was enveloped, and over which there hung a
magnificent rainbow, like that narrow and tottering bridge which Mussulmans
say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity. This mist, or spray, was
no doubt occasioned by the clashing of the great walls of the funnel, as
they all met together at the bottom--but the yell that went up to the
heavens from out of that mist, I dare not attempt to describe.

"Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt of foam above, had
carried us to a great distance down the slope; but our farther descent was
by no means proportionate. Round and round we swept--not with any uniform
movement, but in dizzying swings and jerks, that sent us sometimes only a
few hundred yards--sometimes nearly the complete circuit of the whirl. Our
progress downward, at each revolution, was slow, but very perceptible.

"Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid ebony on which we were thus
borne, I perceived that our boat was not the only object in the embrace of
the whirl. Both above and below us were visible fragments of vessels, large
masses of building timber and trunks of trees, with many smaller articles,
such as pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, barrels, and staves. I
have already described the unnatural curiosity which had taken the place of
my original terrors. It appeared to grow upon me as I drew nearer and
nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began to watch, with a strange interest,
the numerous things that floated in our company. I _must_ have been
delirious--for I even sought _amusement_ in speculating upon the
relative velocities of their several descents toward the foam below. 'This
fir tree,' I found myself at one time saying, 'will certainly be the next
thing that takes the awful plunge and disappears,'--and then I was
disappointed to find that the wreck of a Dutch merchant ship overtook it
and went down before. At length, after making several guesses of this
nature, and being deceived in all--this fact--the fact of my invariable
miscalculation, set me upon a train of reflection that made my limbs again
tremble, and my heart beat heavily once more.

"It was not a new terror that thus affected me, but the dawn of a more
exciting _hope_. This hope arose partly from memory, and partly from
present observation. I called to mind the great variety of buoyant matter
that strewed the coast of Lofoden, having been absorbed and then thrown
forth by the Moskoe-ström. By far the greater number of the articles were
shattered in the most extraordinary way--so chafed and roughened as to have
the appearance of being stuck full of splinters--but then I distinctly
recollected that there were _some_ of them which were not disfigured
at all. Now I could not account for this difference except by supposing
that the roughened fragments were the only ones which had been
_completely absorbed_--that the others had entered the whirl at so
late a period of the tide, or, from some reason, had descended so slowly
after entering, that they did not reach the bottom before the turn of the
flood came, or of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it possible,
in either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again to the level
of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which had been drawn in
more early or absorbed more rapidly. I made, also, three important
observations. The first was, that as a general rule, the larger the bodies
were, the more rapid their descent; the second, that, between two masses of
equal extent, the one spherical, and the other of _any other shape_,
the superiority in speed of descent was with the sphere; the third, that,
between two masses of equal size, the one cylindrical, and the other of any
other shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more slowly. Since my escape, I
have had several conversations on this subject with an old schoolmaster of
the district; and it was from him that I learned the use of the words
'cylinder' and 'sphere.' He explained to me--although I have forgotten the
explanation--how what I observed was, in fact, the natural consequence of
the forms of the floating fragments, and showed me how it happened that a
cylinder, swimming in a vortex, offered more resistance to its suction, and
was drawn in with greater difficulty, than an equally bulky body, of any
form whatever.

"There was one startling circumstance which went a great way in enforcing
these observations, and rendering me anxious to turn them to account, and
this was that, at every revolution, we passed something like a barrel, or
else the yard or the mast of a vessel, while many of these things, which
had been on our level when I first opened my eyes upon the wonders of the
whirlpool, were now high up above us, and seemed to have moved but little
from their original station.

"I no longer hesitated what to do. I resolved to lash myself securely to
the water-cask upon which I now held, to cut it loose from the counter, and
to throw myself with it into the water. I attracted my brother's attention
by signs, pointed to the floating barrels that came near us, and did
everything in my power to make him understand what I was about to do. I
thought at length that he comprehended my design--but, whether this was the
case or not, he shook his head despairingly, and refused to move from his
station by the ringbolt. It was impossible to reach him; the emergency
admitted of no delay; and so, with a bitter struggle, I resigned him to his
fate, fastened myself to the cask by means of the lashings which secured it
to the counter, and precipitated myself with it into the sea, without
another moment's hesitation.

"The result was precisely what I had hoped it might be. As it is myself who
now tell you this tale--as you see that I _did_ escape--and as you are
already in possession of the mode in which this escape was effected, and
must therefore anticipate all that I have farther to say-I will bring my
story quickly to conclusion. It might have been an hour, or thereabout,
after my quitting the smack, when, having descended to a vast distance
beneath me, it made three or four wild gyrations in rapid succession, and,
bearing my loved brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and forever,
into the chaos of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached sunk very
little farther than half the distance between the bottom of the gulf and
the spot at which I leaped overboard, before a great change took place in
the character of the whirlpool. The slope of the sides of the vast funnel
became momently less and less steep. The gyrations of the whirl grew,
gradually, less and less violent. By degrees, the froth and the rainbow
disappeared, and the bottom of the gulf seemed slowly to uprise. The sky
was clear, the winds had gone down, and the full moon was setting radiantly
in the west, when I found myself on the surface of the ocean, in full view
of the shores of Lofoden, and above the spot where the pool of the
Moskoe-ström _had been._ It was the hour of the slack, but the sea
still heaved in mountainous waves from the effects of the hurricane. I was
borne violently into the channel of the Ström, and in a few minutes was
hurried down the coast into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat picked
me up--exhausted from fatigue--and (now that the danger was removed)
speechless from the memory of its horror. Those who drew me on board were
my old mates and daily companions, but they knew me no more than they would
have known a traveler from the spirit-land. My hair, which had been
raven-black the day before, was as white as you see it now. They say, too,
that the whole expression of my countenance had changed. I told them my
story--they did not believe it. I now tell it to you--and I can scarcely
expect you to put more faith in it than did the merry fishermen of
Lofoden."



HELPS TO STUDY.


Notes and Questions.

Locate the scene of this story on your map.

How does the hero account for his apparent age?

What do you learn from Jonas Ramus's description of the whirlpool?

How does the "Encyclopedia Britannica" account for the vortex?

What was the theory of Kircher?

Briefly relate in your own words the hero's story of his experience in the
Maelström.

What tempted him into the whirlpool?

Account for his miscalculation as to the time of the slack.

What three observations did the hero make?

How did he make his escape?

From this story what do you think of Poe's powers of imagination and
description?

What other authors have you read that have similar powers?


Words and Phrases for Discussion.

"circumstantial"
"bleak-looking"
"double-reefed"
"gyrating"
"prodigious"
"impetuosity"
"promontory"
"encompassed"
"inevitably"
"deplorably desolate"
"gleaming spray"
"boisterous rapidity"
"fruitless struggles"
"desperate speculation"
"terrific grandeur"
"frenzied convulsions"
"precipitous descents"
"sufficiently plausible"
"belt of foam"
"collision of waves"
"flood of golden glory"
"wild waste of liquid ebony"
"chaos of foam"
"the gyrations of the whirl"

* * * * *


THE RAVEN

EDGAR ALLAN POE


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,--
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door:
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore,
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door:
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:--
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore":
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore:
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door:
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,--
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore:
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour,
Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered,--"Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore:
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never--nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of 'yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press,' ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there, is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting:
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore!


HELPS TO STUDY.

Notes and Questions.

What is the theme of this poem?

What gives it its musical quality?

Mention parts that you think are especially beautiful.

Find examples of alliteration.

What does the refrain add to this poem?

What is the meaning of "Night's Plutonian shore"?

Of what is the raven a symbol?

Why does the poet call the bust of Pallas "pallid"?

What is the significance of the last stanza?

From this poem, in what would you say Poe's poetry excels?

Which stanza do you like best?

Why?


Words and Phrases for Discussion.

"ghost"
"surcease"
"entreating"
"obeisance"
"craven"
"ominous"
"censer"
"seraphim"
"nepenthe"
"dying ember"
"fantastic terrors"
"saintly days"
"tufted floor"
"pallid bust"
"radiant maiden"
"dirges of his Hope"
"bird of yore"
"balm in Gilead"

* * * * *


HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

In "The Courtship of Miles Standish" Longfellow has made us acquainted with
his ancestors, John Alden and Priscilla Mullens, passengers of the
Mayflower. Of such ancestry Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in
Portland, Maine, February 27, 1807. His birthplace was at that time a
beautiful and busy town, a forest city with miles of sea beach and a port
where merchant vessels from the West Indies exchanged sugar and rum for the
products of the forest and the fisheries of Maine.

We are told that he was a boy "true, high-minded and noble"; "active,
eager, often impatient"; "handsome in appearance" and the "sunlight of the
home." His conduct at school was "very correct and amiable"--he read much
and was always studious and thoughtful. The first book which fascinated his
imagination was Irving's "Sketch-Book." Indeed there is a resemblance
between the gentle Irving and the gentle Longfellow which is expressed in
the prose of one and the poetry of the other.

Longfellow's education was obtained in Portland and at Bowdoin College,
Brunswick, Maine, where he had for classmates several youths who afterward
became famous, Nathaniel Hawthorne, J. S. C. Abbott, and Franklin Pierce.
Upon Longfellow's graduation, the trustees of the college, having decided
to establish a chair of modern languages, proposed that this young
graduate, of scholarly and literary tastes, should fit himself for this
position. Three years, therefore, he spent in delightful study and travel
in France, Spain, Italy, and Germany. Here was laid the foundation for his
scholarship, and, as in Irving on his first European trip, there was
kindled that passion for romantic lore which followed him through life and
which gave color and direction to much of his work. He mastered the
language of each country visited in a remarkably short time, and many of
the choicer poems found in these languages he has given to us in the
English.

After five years at Bowdoin, Longfellow was invited in 1834 to the chair of
modern languages in Harvard College. Again he was given an opportunity to
prepare himself by a year of study abroad. In 1836 he began his active work
at Harvard and took up his residence in the historic Craigie House,
overlooking the Charles River--a house in which Washington had been
quartered for some months when he came to Cambridge in 1775 to take command
of the Continental forces. Longfellow was thenceforth one of the most
prominent members of that group of men including Sumner, Hawthorne,
Agassiz, Lowell, and Holmes, who gave distinction to the Boston and
Cambridge of earlier days.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.