ThefirstappearanceofPierreLoti'sworks，twentyyearsago，causedasensationthroughoutthosecircleswhereinthecreationsofintellectandimaginationarefelt，studied，anddiscussed。Theauthorwasonewho，withapowerwhichnoonehadwieldedbeforehim，carriedoffhisreadersintoexoticlands，andwhoseart，inappearancemostsimple，provedagenuineenchantmentfortheimagination。ItwasthetimewhenM。Zolaandhisschoolstoodattheheadoftheliterarymovement。TherebreathedforthfromLoti'swritingsanall-penetratingfragranceofpoesy，whichliberatedFrenchliteraryidealsfromtheheavyandoppressiveyokeoftheNaturalisticschool。Truthnowsoaredonunhamperedpinions，andthereadingworldwascompletelywonbytheunsurpassedintensityandfaithfulaccuracywithwhichhedepictedthealluringcharmsoffar-offscenes，andpaintedthenaivesouloftheracesthatseemtoendureintheislesofthePacificassurvivingrepresentativesoftheworld'sinfancy。
ItwasthenlearnedthatthisindependentwriterwasnamedinreallifeLouisMarieJulienViaud，andthathewasanavalofficer。Thisveryfact，thathewasnotawriterbyprofession，addedindeedtohissuccess。Heactuallyhadseenthatwhichhewasdescribing，hehadlivedthatwhichhewasrelating。Whatinanyothermanwouldhaveseemedbutresearchandoddity，remainednaturalinthecaseofasailorwhoreturnedeachyearwithamanuscriptinhishand。Africa，Asia，theislesofthePacific，weretheusualscenesofhisdramas。
FinallyfromFranceitself，andfromtheoldestprovincesofFrance，hedrewsubject-matterfortwoofhisnovels，/AnIcelandFisherman/
and/Ramuntcho/。Thisprovedasurprise。OurBretonsailorsandourBasquemountaineerswerenotlessforeigntotheParisiandrawing-roomthanwasAziyadeorthelittleRahahu。OneclaimedtohaveaknowledgeofBrittany，orofthePyrenees，becauseonehadvisitedDinardorBiarritz；whileinrealityneitherTahitinortheIsleofPaquescouldhaveremainedmorecompletelyunknowntous。
Thedevelopmentsofhumanindustryhavebroughttheextremitiesoftheworldnearertogether；butthesoulofeachracecontinuestocloakitselfinitsownindividualityandtoremainamysterytotherestoftheworld。Onetraitaloneiscommontoall:theinfinitesadnessofhumandestiny。ThisitwasthatLotiimpressedsovividlyonthereadingworld。
Hissuccesswasgreat。Thoughayoungmanasyet，LotisawhisworkcrownedwithwhatinFrancemaybeconsideredthesupremesanction:hewaselectedtomembershipintheFrenchAcademy。HisnamebecamecoupledwiththoseofBernardindeSt。PierreandofChateaubriand。
Withthesoleexceptionoftheauthorof/PaulandVirginia/andofthewriterof/Atala/，heseemedtobeonewithoutpredecessorandwithoutamaster。Itmaybewellheretoinquirehowmuchreasonthereisforthisassertion，andwhatnovelfeaturesarepresentedinhiswork。
IthasbecomeatritesayingthatFrenchgeniuslacksthesenseofNature，thattheFrenchtongueiscolourless，andthereforewantsthemoststrikingfeatureofpoetry。Ifweabandonedforonemomentthedomainoflettersandtookacomprehensiveviewofthefieldofart，wemightbepermittedtoexpressastonishmentatthepassingofsosummaryajudgmentonthegeniusofanationwhichhas，intherealsenseoftheterm，producedtwosuchpaintersofNatureasClaudeLorrainandCorot。Butevenintherealmoflettersitiseasilyseenthatthismodeofthinkingisduelargelytoinsufficientknowledgeofthelanguage'sresources，andtoastudyofFrenchliteraturewhichdoesnotextendbeyondtheseventeenth
century。WithoutgoingbacktotheDukeofOrleansandtoVillon，oneneedonlyreadafewofthepoetsofthesixteenthcenturytobestruckbytheprominencegiventoNatureintheirwritings。NothingismoredelightfulthanRonsard'sword-paintingsofhissweetcountryofVendome。UntilthedayofMalherbe，thedidacticRegnierandtheCalvinisticMarotaretheonlytwowhocouldbesaidtogivecolourtothepreconceivedandprevalentnotionastothedrynessofFrenchpoetry。AndevenafterMalherbe，intheseventeenthcentury，wefindthatLaFontaine，themosttrulyFrenchofFrenchwriters，wasapassionateloverofNature。Hewhocanseenothinginthelatter'sfablesbeyondthelittledramaswhichtheyunfoldandtheordinarymoralwhichthepoetdrawstherefrom，mustconfessthathefailstounderstandhim。Hislandscapespossessprecision，accuracy，andlife，whilesuchisthefragranceofhisspeechthatitseemsladenwiththefreshperfumeofthefieldsandfurrows。
Racinehimself，themostpenetratingandthemostpsychologicalofpoets，istoowellversedinthehumansoulnottohavefeltitsintimateunionwithNature。HismagnificentverseinPhedre，"Ah，quenesuis-jeassiseal'ombredesforets!"
isbutthecryofdespair，theappeal，filledwithanguish，ofaheartthatistroubledandwhichofthassoughtpeaceandalleviationamidthecoldindifferenceofinanimatethings。ThesmallplacegiventoNatureintheFrenchliteratureoftheseventeenthcenturyisnottobeascribedtothelanguagenorexplainedbyalackofsensibilityonthepartoftherace。Thetruecauseistobefoundinthespiritofthatperiod；forinvestigationwilldisclosethattheverysameconditionthencharacterizedtheliteraturesofEngland，ofSpain，andofItaly。
Wemustbearinmindthat，owingtoanalmostuniquecombinationofcircumstances，thereneverhasbeenaperiodwhenmanwasmoreconvincedofthenobilityand，Idaresayit，ofthesovereigntyofman，orwasmoreinclinedtolookuponthelatterasabeingindependentoftheexternalworld。Hedidnotsuspecttheintimatelyclosebondswhichunitethecreaturetothemediuminwhichitlives。
Amanoftheworldintheseventeenthcenturywasutterlywithoutanotionofthosetruthswhichintheirensembleconstitutethenaturalsciences。Hecrossedthethresholdoflifepossessedofadeepclassicalinstruction，andall-imbuedwithstoicalideasofvirtue。Atthesametime，hehadreceivedthemouldofastrongbutnarrowChristianeducation，inwhichnothingfiguredsavehisrelationswithGod。Thistwofoldtrainingelevatedhissoulandfortifiedhiswill，butwrenchedhimviolentlyfromallcommunionwithNature。ThisisthestandpointfromwhichwemustviewtheheroesofCorneille，ifwewouldunderstandthoseextraordinarysoulswhich，alwaysatthehighestdegreeoftension，denythemselves，asaweakness，everythingthatresemblestendernessorpity。Again，thusandthusalonecanweexplainhowDescartes，andwithhimallthephilosophersofhiscentury，rancountertoallcommonsense，andrefusedtorecognisethatanimalsmightpossessasoul-likeprinciplewhich，howeverremotely，mightlinkthemtothehumanbeing。
When，intheeighteenthcentury，mindsbecameemancipatedfromthenarrowrestrictionsofreligiousdiscipline，andwhenmethodwasintroducedintothestudyofscientificproblems，Naturetookherrevengeaswellinliteratureasinallotherfieldsofhumanthought。
RousseauitwaswhoinauguratedthemovementinFrance，andthewholeofEuropefollowedinthewakeofFrance。Itmayevenbedeclaredthatthereactionagainsttheseventeenthcenturywasinmanyrespectsexcessive，fortheeighteenthcenturygaveitselfuptoaspeciesofsentimentaldebauch。Itisnonethelessafactthattheauthorof/LaNouvelleHeloise/wasthefirsttoblendthemorallifeofmanwithhisexteriorsurroundings。HefeltthesavagebeautyandgrandeurofthemountainsofSwitzerland，thegraceoftheSavoyhorizons，andthemorefamiliareleganceoftheParisiansuburbs。Wemaysaythatheopenedtheeyeofhumanitytothespectaclewhichtheworldofferedit。InGermany，Lessing，Goethe，Hegel，Schellinghaveproclaimedhimtheirmaster；whileeveninEngland，Byron，andGeorgeEliotherself，haverecognisedallthattheyowedtohim。
ThefirstofRosseau'sdisciplesinFrancewasBernardindeSt。
Pierre，whosenamehasfrequentlybeenrecalledinconnectionwithLoti。Indeed，thecharmingmasterpieceof/PaulandVirginia/wasthefirstexampleofexoticisminliterature；andtherebyitexcitedthecuriosityofourfathersatthesametimethatitdazzledthembythewealthandbrilliancyofitsdescriptions。
ThencameChateaubriand；butNaturewithhimwasnotamerebackground。Hesoughtfromitanaccompaniment，inthemusicalsenseoftheterm，tothemovementsofhissoul；andbeingsomewhatpronetomelancholy，histasteseemstohavefavouredsombrelandscapes，stormyandtragical。Theentireromanticschoolwasbornfromhim，VictorHugoandGeorgeSand，TheophileGautierwhodrawsfromtheFrenchtongueresourcesunequalledinwealthandcolour，andevenM。Zolahimself，whosenaturalism，afterall，isbutthelastformand，asitwere，theendofromanticism，sinceitwouldbedifficulttodiscoverinhimanycharacteristicthatdidnotexist，asagermatleast，inBalzac。
IhavejustsaidthatChateaubriandsoughtinNatureanaccompanimenttothemovementsofhissoul:thiswasthecasewithalltheromanticists。WedonotfindRene，Manfred，Indiana，livinginthemidstofatranquilandmonotonousNature。Thestormsofheavenmustrespondtothestormsoftheirsoul；anditisafactthatallthesegreatwriters，ByronaswellasVictorHugo，havenotsomuchcontemplatedandseenNatureastheyhaveinterpreteditthroughthemediumoftheirownpassions；anditisinthissensethatthekeenAmielcouldjustlyremarkthatalandscapeisaconditionorastateofthesoul。
M。Lotidoesnotmerelyinterpretalandscape；thoughperhaps，tobeginwith，heisunconsciousofdoingmore。Withhim，thehumanbeingisapartofNature，oneofitsveryexpressions，likeanimalsandplants，mountainformsandskytints。Hischaractersarewhattheyareonlybecausetheyissueforthfromthemediuminwhichtheylive。Theyaretrulycreatures，andnotgodsinhabitingtheearth。Hencetheirprofoundandstrikingreality。
HencealsooneofthepeculiarcharacteristicsofLoti'sworkers。Helovestopaintsimplesouls，heartsclosetoNature，whoseprimitivepassionsaresingularlysimilartothoseofanimals。HeishappyintheislesofthePacificoronthebordersofSenegal；andwhenheshiftshisscenesintooldEuropeitisneverwithmenandwomenoftheworldthatheentertainsus。
Whatwecallamanoftheworldisthesameeverywhere；heismouldedbythesocietyofmen，butNatureandtheuniversehavenoplaceinhislifeandthought。M。PaulBourget'sheroesmightlivewithoutdistinctioninNewportorinMonteCarlo；theytakerootnowhere，butliveinthelargecities，inwinterresortsandindrawing-roomsastransientvisitorsintemporaryabiding-places。
LotiseekshisheroesandhisheroinesamongthoseantiqueracesofEuropewhichhavesurvivedallconquests，andwhichhavepreserved，withtheirnativetongue，theindividualityoftheircharacter。HemetRamuntchointheBasquecountry，butdearerthanalltohimisBrittany:hereitwasthathemethisIcelandfishermen。
TheBretonsoulbearsanimprintofArmorica'sprimitivesoil:itismelancholyandnoble。Thereisanundefinablecharmaboutthosearidlandsandthosesod-flankedhillsofgranite，whosesolehorizonisthefar-stretchingsea。Europeendshere，andbeyondremainsonlythebroadexpanseoftheocean。Thepoorpeoplewhodwellherearesilentandtenacious:theirheartisfulloftendernessandofdreams。Yann，theIcelandfisherman，andhissweetheart，GaudofPaimpol，canonlylivehere，inthesmallhousesofBrittany，wherepeoplehuddletogetherinastandagainstthestormswhichcomehowlingfromthedepthsoftheAtlantic。
Loti'snovelsarenevercomplicatedwithamassofincidents。Thecharactersareofhumblestationandtheirlifeisassimpleastheirsoul。/Aziyade/，/TheRomanceofaSpahi/，/AnIcelandFisherman/，/Ramuntcho/，allpresentthestoryofaloveandaseparation。A
departure，ordeathitself，intervenestoputanendtotheromance。
Butthecausematterslittle；theseparationisthesame；theheartsarebroken；Naturesurvives；itcoversoverandabsorbsthemiserableruinswhichweleavebehindus。NoonebetterthanLotihaseverbroughtoutthefrailtyofallthingspertainingtous，fornoonebetterthanhehasmadeusrealizethepersistencyoflifeandtheindifferenceofNature。
ThiscircumstanceimpartstothereadingofM。Loti'sworksacharacterofpeculiarsadness。Thetrendofhisnovelsisnotonethatincitescuriosity；hisheroesaresimple，andtheatmosphereinwhichtheyliveisforeigntous。Whatsaddensusisnottheirhistory，buttheundefinableimpressionthatourpleasuresarenothingandthatwearebutanaccident。Thisisathoughtcommontothedegreeoftritenessamongmoralistsandtheologians；butastheypresentit，itfailstomoveus。IttroublesusaspresentedbyM。Loti，becausehehasknownhowtogiveitalltheforceofasensation。
Howhasheaccomplishedthis？
Hewriteswithextremesimplicity，andisnotaversetotheuseofvagueandindefiniteexpressions。AndyetthewealthandprecisionofGautier'sandHugo'slanguagefailtoendowtheirlandscapeswiththestrikingcharmandintenselifewhicharetobefoundinthoseofLoti。IcanfindnootherreasonforthisthanthatwhichIhavesuggestedabove:thelandscape，inHugo'sandinGautier'sscenes，isabackgroundandnothingmore；whileLotimakesitthepredominatingfigureofhisdrama。OursensibilitiesarenecessarilyarousedbeforethisapparitionofNature，blind，inaccessible，andall-powerfulastheFatesofold。
ItmayproveinterestingtoinquirehowLoticontrivedtosoundsuchanewnoteinart。
Heboasted，onthedayofhisreceptionintotheFrenchAcademy，thathehadneverread。Manyprotested，somesmiled，andalargenumberofpersonsrefusedtobelievetheassertion。Yetthestatementwasactuallyquitecredible，forthefoundationandbasisofM。Lotirestonanaivesimplicitywhichmakeshimverysensitivetothethingsoftheoutsideworld，andgiveshimaperfectcomprehensionofsimplesouls。Heisnotareader，forheisnotimbuedwithbooknotionsofthings；hisideasofthemaredirect，andeverythingwithhimisnotmemory，butreflectedsensation。
Ontheotherhand，thatsailor-lifewhichhadenabledhimtoseetheworld，musthaveconfirmedinhimthismentalattitude。Thedeckofficerwhowatchesthevessel'scoursemaydonothingwhichcoulddistracthisattention；butwhileeverreadytoactandalwaysunoccupied，hethinks，hedreams，helistenstothevoicesofthesea；
andeverythingabouthimisofinteresttohim，theshapeoftheclouds，theaspectofskiesandwaters。Heknowsthatamereboard'sthicknessisallthatseparateshimanddefendshimfromdeath。SuchisthehabitualstateofmindwhichM。Lotihasbroughttothecolouringofhisbooks。
Hehasrelatedtoushow，whenstillalittlechild，hefirstbeheldthesea。Hehadescapedfromtheparentalhome，alluredbythebriskandpungentairandbythe"peculiarnoise，atoncefeebleandgreat，"
whichcouldbeheardbeyondlittlehillsofsandtowhichledacertainpath。Herecognisedthesea；"beforemesomethingappeared，somethingsombreandnoisy，whichhadloomedupfromallsidesatonce，andwhichseemedtohavenoend；amovingexpansewhichstruckmewithmortalvertigo；……abovewasstretchedoutfullaskyallofonepiece，ofadarkgraycolourlikeaheavymantle；very，veryfaraway，inunmeasurabledepthsofhorizon，couldbeseenabreak，anopeningbetweenseaandsky，alongemptycrack，ofalightpaleyellow。"Hefeltasadnessunspeakable，asenseofdesolatesolitude，ofabandonment，ofexile。Heranbackinhastetounburdenhissouluponhismother'sbosom，and，ashesays，"toseekconsolationwithherforathousandanticipated，indescribablepangs，whichhadwrungmyheartatthesightofthatvastgreen，deepexpanse。"
Apoetoftheseahadbeenborn，andhisgeniusstillbearsatraceoftheshudderoffearexperiencedthateveningbyPierreLotithelittlechild。
Lotiwasbornnotfarfromtheocean，inSaintonge，ofanoldHuguenotfamilywhichhadnumberedmanysailorsamongitsmembers。WhileyetamerechildhethumbedtheoldBiblewhichformerly，inthedaysofpersecution，hadbeenreadonlywithcautioussecrecy；andheperusedthevessel'sancientrecordswhereinmarinerslongsincegonehadnoted，almostacenturybefore，that"theweatherwasgood，"that"thewindwasfavourable，"andthat"doradoesorgilt-headswerepassingneartheship。"
Hewaspassionatelyfondofmusic。Hehadfewcomrades，andhisimaginationwasoftheexaltedkind。Hisfirstambitionwastobeaminister，thenamissionary；andfinallyhedecidedtobecomeasailor。Hewantedtoseetheworld，hehadthecuriosityofthings；hewasinclinedtosearchforthestrangeandtheunknown；hemustseekthatsensation，delightfulandfascinatingtocomplexsouls，ofbetakinghimselfoff，ofwithdrawingfromhisownworld，ofbreakingwithhisownmodeoflife，andofcreatingforhimselfvoluntaryregrets。
HefeltinthepresenceofNatureaspeciesofdisquietude，andexperiencedtherefromsensationswhichmightalmostbeexpressedincolours:hishead，hehimselfstates，"mightbecomparedtoacamera，filledwithsensitiveplates。"Thispowerofvisionpermittedhimtoapprehendonlytheappearanceofthings，nottheirreality；hewasconsciousofthenothingnessofnothing，ofthedustofdust。Theremnantsofhisreligiouseducationintensifiedstillmorethisdistastefortheexternalworld。
HewaswonttospendhissummervacationinthesouthofFrance，andhepreserveditswarmsunnyimpressions。ItwasonlylaterthathebecameacquaintedwithBrittany。Sheinspiredhimatfirstwithafeelingofoppressionandofsadness，anditwaslongbeforehelearnedtoloveher。
Thuswasformedanddeveloped，farfromliterarycirclesandfromParisiancoteries，oneofthemostoriginalwritersthathadappearedforalongtime。Henotedhisimpressionswhiletouringtheworld；onefinemorninghepublishedthem，andfromtheveryfirstthereadingpublicwaswon。Herelatedhisadventuresandhisownromance。Thequestioncouldthenberaisedwhetherhisskillandartwouldproveasconsummateifheshoulddeviatefromhisownpersonalitytowritewhatmightbetermedimpersonalpoems；anditispreciselyinthislastdirectionthathesubsequentlyproducedwhatarenowconsideredhismasterpieces。
Astrangewriterassuredlyisthis，atoncelogicalandillusive，whomakesusfeelatthesametimethesensationofthingsandthatoftheirnothingness。AmidsomanyworkswhereintheluxuriesoftheOrient，thequasianimallifeofthePacific，theburningpassionsofAfrica，arepaintedwithavigourofimaginationneverwitnessedbeforehisadvent，/AnIcelandFisherman/shinesforthwithincomparablebrilliancy。SomethingofthepuresoulofBrittanyistobefoundinthesemelancholypages，which，solongastheFrenchtongueendures，mustevoketheadmirationofartists，andmustarousethepityandstirtheemotionsofmen。
JULESCAMBON。
BIOGRAPHICALNOTE
TherealnameofPIERRELOTIisLOUISMARIEJULIENVIAUD。HewasbornofProtestantparents，intheoldcityofRochefort，onthe14thofJanuary，1850。Inoneofhispleasantvolumesofautobiography，"LeRomand'unEnfant，"hehasgivenaverypleasingaccountofhischildhood，whichwasmosttenderlycaredforandsurroundedwithindulgences。Ataveryearlyagehebegantodevelopthatextremesensitivenesstoexternalinfluenceswhichhasdistinguishedhimeversince。HewasfirsttaughtataschoolinRochefort，butattheageofseventeen，beingdestinedforthenavy，heenteredthegreatFrenchnavalschool，LeBorda，andhasgraduallyriseninhisprofession。Hispseudonymissaidtohavehadreferencetohisextremeshynessandreserveinearlylife，whichmadehiscomradescallhimafter"leLoti，"anIndianflowerwhichlovestoblushunseen。HewasnevergiventobooksorstudywhenhewasreceivedattheFrenchAcademy，hehadthecouragetosay，"Lotinesaitpaslire"，anditwasnotuntilhisthirtiethyearthathewaspersuadedtowritedownandpublish
certaincuriousexperiencesatConstantinople，in"Aziyade，"abookwhich，likesomanyofLoti's，seemshalfaromance，halfanautobiography。HeproceededtotheSouthSeas，and，onleavingTahiti，publishedthePolynesianidyl，originallycalled"Raharu，"whichwasreprintedas"LeMariagedeLoti"1880，andwhichfirstintroducedtothewiderpublicanauthorofremarkableoriginalityandcharm。
Lotinowbecameextremelyprolific，andinasuccessionofvolumeschronicledoldexoticmemoriesormanipulatedthejournalofnewtravels。"LeRomand'unSpahi，"arecordofthemelancholyadventuresofasoldierinSenegambia，belongsto1881。In1882Lotiissuedacollectionofshortstudiesunderthegeneraltitleof"Fleursd'Ennui。"In1883heachievedthewidestcelebrity，fornotonlydidhepublish"MonFrereYves，"anoveldescribingthelifeofaFrenchbluejacketinallpartsoftheworld——perhaps，onthewhole，tothisdayhismostcharacteristicproduction——buthewasinvolvedinapublicdiscussioninamannerwhichdidhimgreatcredit。WhiletakingpartasanavalofficerintheTonquinwar，LotihadexposedinaParisiannewspaperaseriesofscandalswhichsucceededonthecaptureofHue，and，beingrecalled，
hewasnowsuspendedfromtheserviceformorethanayear。Hecontinuedforsometimenearlysilent，butin1886，hepublishedanoveloflifeamongtheBretonfisher-folk，entitled"Pecheursd'Islande"；thishasbeenthemostpopularofallhiswritings。In1887hebroughtoutavolumeofextraordinarymerit，whichhasneverreceivedtheattentionitdeserves；thisis"Proposd'Exil，"aseriesofshortstudiesofexoticplaces，inLoti'speculiarsemi-autobiographicstyle。ThefantasticromanceofJapanesemanners，"MadameChrysantheme，"belongstothesameyear。Passingoveroneortwoslighterproductions，wecometo1890，to"AuMaroc，"therecordofajourneytoFezincompanywithaFrenchembassy。A
collectionofstrangelyconfidentialandsentimentalreminiscences，called"LeLivredelaPitieetdelaMort，"belongsto1891。LotiwasonboardhisshipattheportofAlgierswhennewswasbroughttohimofhiselection，onthe21stofMay，1891，totheFrenchAcademy。
SincehehasbecomeanImmortaltheliteraryactivityofPierreLotihassomewhatdeclined。In1892hepublished"Fantomed'Orient，"
anotherdreamystudyoflifeinConstantinople，asortofcontinuationof"Aziyade。"HehasdescribedavisittotheHolyLandinthreevolumes，"LeDesert，""Jerusalem，""LaGalilee"1895-96，andhehaswrittenonenovel，"Ramentcho"1897，astoryofmannersintheBasqueprovince，whichisquiteonalevelwithhisbestwork。In1898
hecollectedhislateressaysas"FiguresetChosesquipassaient。"In1899-1900LotivisitedBritishIndia，andintheautumnofthelatteryearChina；andhehasdescribedwhathesawthere，aftertheseige，inacharmingvolume，"DerniersJoursdePekin，"1902。
E。G。
ANICELANDFISHERMAN
byPierreLotiPART1
ONTHEICYSEA
CHAPTERI
THEFISHERMEN
Theretheywere，fivehuge，square-builtseamen，drinkingawaytogetherinthedismalcabin，whichreekedoffish-pickleandbilge-
water。Theoverheadbeamscamedowntoolowfortheirtallstatures，androundedoffatoneendsoastoresembleagull'sbreast，seenfromwithin。Thewholerolledgentlywithamonotonouswail，incliningoneslowlytodrowsiness。
Outside，beyonddoubt，laytheseaandthenight；butonecouldnotbequitesureofthat，forasingleopeninginthedeckwasclosedbyitsweather-hatch，andtheonlylightcamefromanoldhanging-lamp，swingingtoandfro。Afireshoneinthestove，atwhichtheirsaturatedclothesweredrying，andgivingoutsteamthatmingledwiththesmokefromtheirclaypipes。
Theirmassivetable，fittedexactlytoitsshape，occupiedthewholespace；andtherewasjustenoughroomformovingaroundandsittinguponthenarrowlockersfastenedtothesides。Thickbeamsranabovethem，verynearlytouchingtheirheads，andbehindthemyawnedtheberths，apparentlyhollowedoutofthesolidtimbers，likerecessesofavaultwhereintoplacethedead。Allthewainscotingwasroughandworn，impregnatedwithdampandsalt，defacedandpolishedbythecontinualrubbingsoftheirhands。
Theyhadbeendrinkingwineandciderintheirpannikins，andthesheerenjoymentoflifelituptheirfrank，honestfaces。Now，theylingeredattablechatting，inBretontongue，onwomenandmarriage。A
chinastatuetteoftheVirginMarywasfastenedonabracketagainstthemidshippartition，intheplaceofhonour。Thispatronsaintofoursailorswasratherantiquated，andpaintedwithverysimpleart；
yettheseporcelainimageslivemuchlongerthanrealmen，andherredandbluerobestillseemedveryfreshinthemidstofthesombregreysofthepoorwoodenbox。Shemusthavelistenedtomanyanardentprayerindeadlyhours；atherfeetwerenailedtwonosegaysofartificialflowersandarosary。
Thesehalf-dozenmenweredressedalike；athickbluewoollenjerseyclungtothebody，drawninbythewaist-belt；ontheheadwaswornthewaterproofhelmet，knownasthesou'-wester。Thesemenwereofdifferentages。Theskippermighthavebeenaboutforty；thethreeothersbetweentwenty-fiveandthirty。Theyoungest，whomtheycalledSylvestreor"Lurlu，"wasonlyseventeen，yetalreadyamanforheightandstrength；afinecurlyblackbeardcoveredhischeeks；stillhehadchildlikeeyes，bluish-greyinhue，andsweetandtenderinexpression。
Huddledagainstoneanother，forwantofspace，theyseemedtofeeldownrightcomfort，snuglypackedintheirdarkhome。
Outsidespreadtheoceanandnight——theinfinitesolitudeofdarkfathomlesswaters。Abrasswatch，hungonthewall，pointedtoeleveno'clock——doubtlesselevenatnight——anduponthedeckpatteredthedrizzlingrain。
Amongthemselves，theytreatedthesequestionsofmarriageverymerrily；butwithoutsayinganythingindecent。No，indeed，theyonlysketchedplansforthosewhowerestillbachelors，orrelatedfunnystorieshappeningathomeatwedding-feasts。Sometimeswithahappylaughtheymadesomerathertoofreeremarksaboutthefuninlove-
making。Butlove-making，asthesemenunderstandit，isalwaysahealthysensation，andforallitscoarsenessremainstolerablychaste。
ButSylvestrewasworried，becauseamatecalledJeanwhichBretonspronounce"Yann"didnotcomedownbelow。WherecouldYannbe，bytheway？washelashedtohisworkondeck？Whydidhenotcomebelowtotakehisshareintheirfeast？
"It'scloseonmidnight，hows'ever，"observedthecaptain；anddrawinghimselfupheraisedthescuttlewithhishead，soastocallYannthatway。
Thenaweirdglimmerfellfromabove。
"Yann!Yann!Lookalive，matey!"
"Matey"answeredroughlyfromoutsidewhilethroughthehalf-openedhatchwaythefaintlightkeptenteringlikethatofdawn。Nearlymidnight，yetitlookedlikeapeepofday，orthelightofthestarrygloaming，sentfromafarthroughmysticlensesofmagicians。
Whentheapertureclosed，nightreignedagain，saveforthesmalllamp，"sended"nowandagainaside，whichsheditsyellowlight。Amaninclogswasheardcomingdownthewoodensteps。
Heenteredbentintwolikeabigbear，forhewasagiant。Atfirsthemadeawryface，holdinghisnose，becauseoftheacridsmellofthesouse。
Heexceededalittletoomuchtheordinaryproportionsofman，especiallyinbreadth，thoughhewasstraightasapoplar。Whenhefacedyouthemusclesofhisshoulders，mouldedunderhisbluejersey，stoodoutlikegreatglobesatthetopsofhisarms。Hislargebrowneyeswereverymobile，withagrand，wildexpression。
SylvestrethrewhisarmsroundYann，anddrewhimtowardshimtenderly，afterthefashionofchildren。SylvestrewasbetrothedtoYann'ssister，andhetreatedhimasanelderbrother，ofcourse。AndYannallowedhimselftobepulledaboutlikeayounglion，answeringbyakindsmilethatshowedhiswhiteteeth。Theseweresomewhatfarapart，andappearedquitesmall。Hisfairmoustachewasrathershort，althoughnevercut。Itwastightlycurledinsmallrollsabovehislips，whichweremostexquisitelyanddelicatelymodelled，andthenfrizzedoffattheendsoneithersideofthedeepcornersofhismouth。Theremainderofhisbeardwasshaven，andhishighlycolouredcheeksretainedafreshbloomlikethatoffruitneveryethandled。
WhenYannwasseated，themugswerefilledupanew。
Thelightingofallthepipeswasanexcuseforthecabinboytosmokeafewwiffshimself。Hewasarobustlittlefellow，withroundcheeks——akindoflittlebrothertothemall，moreorlessrelatedtooneanotherastheywere；otherwisehisworkhadbeenhardenoughforthedarlingofthecrew。Yannlethimdrinkoutofhisownglassbeforehewassenttobed。Thereupontheimportanttopicofmarriagewasrevived。
"ButIsay，Yann，"askedSylvestre，"whenarewegoingtocelebrateyourwedding？"
"Yououghttobeashamed，"saidthemaster；"ahulkingchaplikeyou，twenty-sevenyearsoldandnotyetspliced；ho，ho!Whatmustthelassesthinkofyouwhentheyseeyourollby？"
Yannansweredbysnappinghisthickfingerswithacontemptuouslookforthewomenfolk。Hehadjustworkedoffhisfiveyears'governmentnavalservice；anditwasasmaster-gunnerofthefleetthathehadlearnedtospeakgoodFrenchandholdscepticalopinions。Hehemmedandhawedandthenrattledoffhislatestloveadventure，whichhadlastedafortnight。
IthappenedinNantes，aFree-and-Easysingerfortheheroine。Oneevening，returningfromthewaterside，beingslightlytipsy，hehadenteredthemusichall。Atthedoorstoodawomansellingbigbouquetsattwentyfrancsapiece。Hehadboughtonewithoutquiteknowingwhatheshoulddowithit，andbeforehewasmuchmorethaninhadthrownitwithgreatforceatthevocalistuponthestage，strikingherfullintheface，partlyasaroughdeclarationoflove，partlythroughdisgustforthepainteddollthatwastoopinkforhistaste。Theblowhadfelledthewomantotheboards，and——sheworshippedhimduringthethreefollowingweeks。
"Why，blessye，lads，whenIleftshemademethisherepresentofarealgoldwatch。"
Thebettertoshowitthemhethrewituponthetablelikeaworthlesstoy。
Thiswastoldwithcoarsewordsandoratoricalflourishesofhisown。
Yetthiscommonplaceofcivilizedlifejarredsadlyamongsuchsimplemen，withthegrandsolemnityoftheoceanaroundthem；intheglimmeringofmidnight，fallingfromabove，wasanimpressionofthefleetingsummersofthefarnorthcountry。
ThesewaysofYanngreatlypainedandsurprisedSylvestre。Hewasagirlishboy，broughtupinrespectforholythings，byanoldgrandmother，thewidowofafishermaninthevillageofPloubazlanec。
Asatinychildheusedtogoeverydaywithhertokneelandtellhisbeadsoverhismother'sgrave。FromthechurchyardonthecliffthegreywatersoftheChannel，whereinhisfatherhaddisappearedinashipwreck，couldbeseeninthefardistance。
Ashisgrandmotherandhimselfwerepoorhehadtotaketofishinginhisearlyyouth，andhischildhoodhadbeenspentoutontheopenwater。Everynighthesaidhisprayers，andhiseyesstillworetheirreligiouspurity。Hewascaptivatingthough，andnexttoYannthefinest-builtladofthecrew。Hisvoicewasverysoft，anditsboyishtonescontrastedmarkedlywithhistallheightandblackbeard；ashehadshotupveryrapidlyhewasalmostpuzzledtofindhimselfgrownsuddenlysotallandbig。HeexpectedtomarryYann'ssistersoon，butneveryethadansweredanygirl'sloveadvances。
Therewereonlythreesleepingbunksaboard，onebeingdouble-berthed，sothey"turnedin"alternately。
Whentheyhadfinishedtheirfeast，celebratingtheAssumptionoftheirpatronsaint，itwasalittlepastmidnight。Threeofthemcreptawaytobedinthesmalldarkrecessesthatresembledcoffin-shelves；
andthethreeotherswentupondecktogetonwiththeirofteninterrupted，heavylabouroffish-catching；thelatterwereYann，Sylvestre，andoneoftheirfellow-villagersknownasGuillaume。
Itwasdaylight，theeverlastingdayofthoseregions——apale，dimlight，resemblingnoother——bathingallthings，likethegleamsofasettingsun。Aroundthemstretchedanimmensecolourlesswaste，andexceptingtheplanksoftheirship，allseemedtransparent，ethereal，andfairy-like。Theeyecouldnotdistinguishwhatthescenemightbe:
firstitappearedasaquiveringmirrorthathadnoobjectstoreflect；andinthedistanceitbecameadesertofvapour；andbeyondthatavoid，havingneitherhorizonnorlimits。
Thedampfreshnessoftheairwasmoreintenselypenetratingthandryfrost；andwhenbreathingit，onetastedtheflavourofbrine。Allwascalm，andtherainhadceased；overheadtheclouds，withoutformorcolour，seemedtoconcealthatlatentlightthatcouldnotbeexplained；theeyecouldseeclearly，yetonewasstillconsciousofthenight；thisdimnesswasallofanindefinablehue。
Thethreemenondeckhadlivedsincetheirchildhooduponthefrigidseas，intheverymidstoftheirmists，whicharevagueandtroubledasthebackgroundofdreams。Theywereaccustomedtoseethisvaryinginfinitudeplayabouttheirpaltryarkofplanks，andtheireyeswereasusedtoitasthoseofthegreatfreeocean-birds。
Theboatrolledgentlywithitseverlastingwail，asmonotonousasaBretonsongmoanedbyasleeper。YannandSylvestrehadgottheirbaitandlinesready，whiletheirmateopenedabarrelofsalt，andwhettinghislongknifewentandsatbehindthem，waiting。
Hedidnothavelongtowait，ortheyeither。Theyscarcelyhadthrowntheirlinesintothecalm，coldwaterinfact，beforetheydrewinhugeheavyfish，ofasteel-greysheen。Andtimeaftertimethecodfishletthemselvesbehookedinarapidandunceasingsilentseries。Thethirdmanrippedthemopenwithhislongknife，spreadthemflat，saltedandcountedthem，andpiledupthelot——whichupontheirreturnwouldconstitutetheirfortune——behindthem，allstillredlystreamingandstillsweetandfresh。