"Sleeps in the night-beam beauteously."
Should a sail perchance cross this path of light, it seems a fairy visitant of this earth, and just about to take its departure from it for the bright world beneath which it seems suspended.
All this is scenery which can in no other situation be enjoyed, yet which like every thing else, soon palls upon the taste, as I can bear testimony both on my own behalf and on that of
"My comates and brothers in exile."
We soon became accustomed to "the wonders of the deep" and far from responding to the sentiment of Long Tom in "the Pilot," who declared that "the sight of land always made him feel uncomfortable;" rather agreed with Gonzalo in the Tempest, when he asseverated that he would "give a thousand furlongs of sea, for an acre of barren ground." Our taste became so perverted, that we heeded not the grandeur of the ocean or the beauties of the heavens, and sighed that we had
| "No delight to pass away the time, |
| Unless to spy our shadows in the sun," |
or engage in the most sage pastime of building castles in the clouds where,
| "Sometime we'd see a cloud look dragonish; |
| A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, |
| A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, |
| A forked mountain, or blue promontory |
| With trees upon 't." —— —— |
In short, every thing which could divert for a while, was eagerly caught at, as a child pursues a butterfly. "A sail in sight," served as the event of a day; a porpoise or flying fish excited as much interest, as would on land be produced by the apparition of a gryphon, a winged dragon, or any other fabulous monster of romance; whilst the huge leviathan, heaving his vast bulk into view and spouting rivers to the skies, created as much sensation, as an earthquake or a revolution.
The graceful little nautilus too, spreading its transparent sail, and pursuing its dancing career over the waves, was ever hailed with acclamation; though as a faithful journalist, who would wish even in the slightest affairs to be considered "an honest chronicler," I am compelled to denounce them as unprofitable sailors, as they ever steer full in the "wind's eye."