wake caused by the waters passing
it, not by _its_ going through the water.

Sec. 14. Expression of contrary waves caused by recoil from shore.

Sec. 15. Various other instances.

Again, in the Confluence of the Seine and Marne, we have the repose of
the wide river stirred by the paddles of the steamboat, (whose plashing
we can almost hear, for we are especially compelled to look at them by
their being made the central note of the composition--the blackest
object in it, opposed to the strongest light,) and this disturbance is
not merely caused by the two lines of surge from the boat's wake, for
any other painter must have given these, but Turner never rests
satisfied till he has told you _all_ in his power; and he has not only
given the receding surges, but these have gone on to the shore, have
struck upon it, and been beaten back from it in another line of weaker
contrary surges, whose point of intersection with those of the wake
itself is marked by the sudden subdivision and disorder of the waves of
the wake on the extreme left, and whose reverted direction is
exquisitely given where their lines cross the calm water, close to the
spectator, and marked also by the sudden vertical spring of the spray
just where they intersect the swell from the boat; and in order that we
may fully be able to account for these reverted waves, we are allowed,
just at the extreme right-hand limit of the picture, to see the point
where the swell from the boat meets the shore. In the Chaise de
Gargantua we have the still water lulled by the dead calm which usually
precedes the most violent storms, suddenly broken upon by a tremendous
burst of wind from the gathered thunder-clouds, scattering the boats,
and raising the water into rage, except where it is sheltered by the
hills. In the Jumieges and Vernon we have farther instances of local
agitation, caused, in the one instance, by a steamer, in the other, by
the large water-wheels under the bridge, not, observe, a mere splashing
about the wheel itself, this is too far off to be noticeable, so that we
should not have even known that the objects beneath the bridge were
water-wheels, but for the agitation recorded a quarter of a mile down
the river, where its current crosses the sunlight. And thus there will
scarcely ever be found a piece of quiet water by Turner, without some
story in it of one kind or another; sometimes a slight, but beautiful
incident--oftener, as in the Cowes, something