[From Manx Recollections, 1894]

CHAPTER XVII.

BLOW UPON BLOW.

THOSE of us acquainted with the sea, and who have watched its various movements, have no doubt observed how, when a storm has suddenly burst, the waves have arisen in unison and in wild commotion, and have reared their foaming crests on high; and how by degrees as they roll on the beach they gather volume, and as they recede and then fall forward again, how prolonged is each succeeding sweep, and how heavy and full in proportion the great emerald- lined billow before it at last unbends and breaks in tempestuous sound upon the strand, sucking into its momentary gaping and liquid lip the under-expanse of shingle and sand; - and how overhead the clouds gather in lurid gloom, the wind whistles with a shriller and more cutting blast; and all around the wild sea-birds, as well as the ships on the main, scud along as in keeping with the temper of Nature. Everything shares in the general upheaval; and the whole scene from an hour or so ago is changed, and may remain so for long: far away on the horizon blacker and blacker becomes the stretch of sky; and soon, very soon, every glimmer of remaining light disappears, and all becomes storm-cast and prophetic of a falling night of tempest and disaster. Well, such as we have seen on the fair face of Nature when her silver and her blue have given place to purple and deeper-hued dye, so does it often happen, if not in our own life, in that of some fellow-creature. Mrs. Elliott, a glorious being of intelligence and heavenly nobility

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