330

THE SUMMER SOLSTICE.

old habits of time wasting, is only another instance of human inconsistency.

I ought to add, however, that a northern course at this season has the advantage of more serene weather than a southern. All things considered, a passage in the autumn is to be preferred to any other season.

The day after we met with the icebergs was one of transparent brightness. There was nothing to detract from its enjoyment except the coolness of the atmosphere, the temperature being 46°. The day following the temperature moderated, and stood at about 60° during the remainder of the voyage.

June 21st, the summer solstice, I rose and went on deck a little past two o'clock. Day had already dawned for about an hour. Indeed, there had been but little night that deserved to be called night. The morning was serene and beautiful, the sea was slightly ruffled by a soft south wind, and the air pure and balmy in the highest degree. I walked for an hour, pausing between at the bow and looking out on the wide sea towards the glorious East, in rapt admiration. I felt as in early youth commencing the voyage of life with a world of dreams-with unknown riches, beauty, and glory opening before me. And then, again, I felt sad, that I had not thus stood in early life drinking in inspiration from one of the most beautiful scenes that can ever be presented to the human eye. But the soul is always youthful in the presence of the beautiful. And what is here crowded into this moment? The early dawn of the longest-the most sunlit day, -the summer sea,-the sweet air,-the inexpressible fresh

ness of every impression made upon the senses,-waiting for the rising sun, the morning star heralding his approach— yes, there is that bright star, which, as I first saw it through the spars of the ship rising and falling in the gentle swell of the sea, seemed itself to be in motion, and danced in the heavens! And now, the whole East, from the first thin streak of light which announced the dawn, has kindled up into gorgeous colors-light green above-underneath, purple— still lower, burning crimson radiating far and wide, and the thin fleecy clouds are changed to gold: and now at one point, just upon the edge of the sea, the light becomes more intense, and there seems something like flame flickering upon the waters;-when, suddenly, there is a bright flash which, in this instance, was like silver; and then the forehead of the sun rises majestically above the sea-and higher and higher, of huge magnitude, rises that magnificent form which, from the morning of creation, has looked out upon sea and land, making every thing glad by his presence.

This is the day when the earth and sun keep bridal hours —the summer solstice-the sweetest day of all the year.

The first mate, Mr. Fitch, who was on deck, kindly gave me on a card the following minute:-"U. S. M. S. S. Washington, June 21st, 1851. At 3 33 A. M. Ship's time—sunrise. Lat. 48° 43′ N., long. 41° 23′ W.-E. W. F.”

We exchanged signals with three ships during our voyage. The first was the Niagara steamship, June 17. The ships, altering their course a little, approached near each other, and fired a mutual salute. The passengers of both cheered loudly. How natural it is for men to feel kindly toward one another

32

MEETING SHIPS.

where there is no miserable competition of earthly interests to set them in conflict! Surely men were made to love each other, however they may have managed to stir up jealousy and hatred. We felt that we were neighbors, for a moment, on the great sea, and we felt a right hearty good will towards each other. Eight days after this we met the Hermann out four days from Southampton. It was quite foggy, so that, without being entirely shut in, we had but a little circle or murky vision; and into this the Hermann shot for a few moments, and then passed out again like a phantom. The next day, the weather being still misty, a ship, with all her sails set, passed near us, showed her signals, and rolled away into the vast obscure. What a little object upon the mighty ocean, boldly committing herself to winds and waves, and by night as well as day, amid fogs and storms as well as under pleasant sunshine, securely making her way! A ship, exhibiting in its structure and adaptation one of the proudest triumphs of human skill, and in its navigation, one of the most wonderful results of human science, is also a most striking emblem of man himself when heroically overcoming difficulties, and amid all the varying circumstances of his being still making his way to his desired end. And when that end is selected under the great call of duty, then, adopting the thought of Coleridge, may he be said, like the ship, to find his course by observations taken in the heavens,

By and by, the weather became perfectly clear, for we had exchanged our ocean breeze for one blowing off the land, which we were now rapidly approaching. We therefore had the good fortune to reach old England under a bright sun

THE ENGLISH SHORE.

3333

shine. It was on Thursday, June 26th, that we passed the Scilly Isles, saw Land's-end, and sailed along the English coast towards the Isle of Wight. We passed the Lizard by daylight, and about ten o'clock in the evening we were opposite the Eddystone Lighthouse. That part of the coast which we had seen was elevated and bare: it was old England indeed, but with only a limited view of its green fields, and none of its glorious foliage. This evening we saw the sun set in the ocean for the last time. As he went down, I took off my hat, made him a courteous bow, and bade him bear our kind remembrances to the friends who would yet look upon his face after he had left us in darkness.

On Friday morning, at 7 o'clock, the Isle of Wight came in sight. We passed near those curious chalk rocks, the Needles; and then, with the main shore-main comparatively on the left, and the Isle of Wight on the right, we had a delightful view of landscape; where fields like gardens, and groves of magnificent trees, and tasteful country seats, gave us a lively impression of the beautiful country we were about to land upon. I can conceive of nothing more enchanting than thus to emerge from the ocean on a bright day in June, and to find yourself sailing into the harbor of Cowes, with every thing in heaven and on earth beautiful to behold. It is an enjoyment one can never forget, and is ever desirous

to renew.

As we sail along, we fire several guns, and from cottage doors white handkerchiefs are waved towards us to give us welcome. At length we lay to, and boats of every description crowd around us. Then a trim little steamer approaches

34

LEAVING THE SHIP.

us, bearing the stripes and stars; on board, a solitary fiddler is scraping away merrily the well-known Yankee Doodle. This is the steamer which is to conduct a considerable proportion of the passengers to Southampton. A few of us land at Cowes; the remainder proceed on to Bremen with the steamship.

We were indebted to the efficient and very gentlemanly American Consul of Southampton, Mr. Croskey, for several valuable little attentions, and among the rest, for the recommendation of an excellent hotel at Cowes, called the Vine Hotel.

The parting from our fellow-passengers took place with mutual congratulations and good wishes, and many hearty shakes of the hand. The general good-fellowship which had prevailed made the parting cordial on all sides. But I could not help remarking that individuals with whom I had scarcely exchanged a word during the voyage, owing to those accidental circumstances which bring us into closer acquaintanceship with some than with others, now that we were about to part, made acquaintance for the moment, and took leave like the others. We all felt happy, and therefore we all felt our hearts overflow with kindness. To make a world happy we must be kind to each other; but indeed when we are happy we are sure to be kind. The good God has opened to us innumerable sources of happiness, which if we would only drink from, we should feel constant genial inspirations leading us to bless all around us. But, alas! we pass them by; we do not receive His love into our hearts, and therefore our hearts do not flow out in love to others. There are certain