156 CHAPTER V. PASSAGE FROM CAPE HORN TO VALPARAISO. GALE.-HABITS OF THE ALBATROS AND PENGUIN.-THE SEA OFF CAPE THE CORDILLERAS.-AR Amid the storm, an iceberg's form SUNDAY, FEB. 8. The severity of the weather and the heave of the sea prevent our holding divine service to-day. May each heart silently erect within itself an altar on which to offer the oblations of contrition, gratitude, and faith. Religion is a mission from Heaven to the heart of man; and when taken away from that heart, and shrined in stately temples and sumptuous altars, it loses its vitality and power. No floating censer or pealing organ can have the moral efficacy of that still small voice of the Deity, which speaks in the whispers of the human conscience. The gale which we have had for several days veered last night, and brought the heave of the sea under our quarter. It was enough to make our ship roll her masts out of her. Every thing not secured by strong lashings fetched away. Even the shot were thrown from the combings of our main hatch. As for repose in our berths, the Countess of Nottingham had as much of it under the death-shakings of her indignant queen, till that last sleep overtook her which grief and rage reach not. I write this with my inkstand fastened down, my chair and table secured to the deck, and my paper presenting a plane at every heave of the sea steep enough, if it were covered with snow, to tempt the sledge of the truant. 7 o'clock, P. M. Our barometer is now down to 28.44, and is still falling. The gale has become truly terrific; the sea and sky seem rushing together. We can only carry our storm try-sails; and even their strength is tested to the last thread. The whole ocean is white with foam, which falls in cataracts from the crests of soaring waves. It is terrible and sublime to watch one of these huge combers heaving up within the horizon, and rolling mast high upon you. Niagara gazed at from the boiling abyss, is its only parallel. The hail is driving upon our deck, the sea breaking over our bows, and a starless night closing in. Yet a spirit of cheerfulness and alacrity in duty animates all. Captain Du Pont, with his thorough experience and sound judgment, leaves the deck only to return to it again. Our first lieutenant is exercising that vigilance which never fails him through the ship, and our watch-officers meet the emergency with great firmness. But our trust is in Him who can say to the chainless wave, hitherto shalt thou come, and no further, and here shall thy proud strength be stayed. MONDAY, FEB. 9. The gale still continues with unmitigated force. Our ship has a good character for steadiness, but last night she plunged and rolled like a leviathan in his death-throes. At every heave of the sea she rolled her lee guns under. The water which was forced through her ports lay on her gundeck ankle deep, and rolled in sheets over the combings of her hatches. Her lee scuppers could not be opened to carry it off; and in opening her weather ones there was great danger of admitting a torrent to let out a rivulet. In the mid-watch my library, secretary, mirror, and washstand, fetched away. The books and looking-glass rushed together into my cot. I was half asleep, and thought for the moment our guns were tumbling below. In extricating myself I cut my hands with the fragments of the mirror. I felt for my clothes, and found them on the floor, covered with the wreck of my wash-bowl and pitcher, and well drenched. I hauled on a few articles and groped out to the gun-deck to get a light. The watch on deck had just been relieved and were crowding below, covered with sleet, stiff with cold, and wading through water ankle deep to reach their hammocks; there to turn in and sleep in these drenched frozen garments. What are my petty griefs compared with this? I got my light, and dividing my berth with my books, shivered mirror, manuscripts, inkstand, razors, chessmen, and broken. flasks of casash, turned in-abundantly satisfied with the romance of sea-life. TUESDAY, FEB. 10. Lat. 57° 34' s., long. 61° 32' W. We are very near where we were a week ago. Seven days of the roughest sea-service and in statu quo! Our progress resembles that of Ichabod's courtship, who being asked, after seven years of devoted attentions, how he got along in the business, replied that now and then he thought he had a little encouragement, and should feel quite sure of it were it not for the rebuffs. The gale broke down last evening. The remnant of its force hauled round to the south and enabled us to lay our course, but a heavy head-sea has prevented our carrying sail. By the time the sea goes down, and we have shaken a few reefs out of our topsails, it may whirl back, and then we shall have to fight the battle over again, as the whigs said when President Tyler suddenly took up his old democratic |