ten, does it happen that
we reenact the same scenes for which we punished our enemy. For now has
the northeast become the tyrant and rules with tenfold rigor; he pours
forth all his strength and, drunk with success as soldiers after a
victory, at length sinks away into an inglorious calm.

"Now does the southwest collect his routed forces, checked but not
conquered; he again advances on his recreant foe and seizes the vacant
throne without a struggle. Ill-fated northeast! hadst thou but ruled with
moderation when thou hadst gained, with masterly manoeuvre, the throne of
the air; hadst thou reserved thy forces against surprise, and not, with
prodigal profuseness, lavished them on thy harmless subjects, thou hadst
still been monarch of the sea and air; all would have blessed thee as the
restorer of peace, and as the deliverer of the ocean from western
despotism. But alas! how art thou fallen an everlasting example of
overreaching oppression.

"This evening there is a fine fair wind from northeast carrying us on at
the rate of five or six knots. This is the cause of the foregoing
rhapsody. Had it been otherwise than a fair wind I should never have
been in spirits to have written so much stuff."

Still tantalized by baffling head winds and alternating calms and gales,
they were, however, gradually approaching the coast. Omitting the entries
of the next eleven days, I shall quote the final pages of the journal.

"_Wednesday, 18th October._ Last night was a sleepless night to us all.
Everything wore the appearance of a hard storm; all was dull in the
cabin; scarce a word was spoken; every one wore a serious aspect and, as
any one came from the deck into the cabin, the rest put up an inquisitive
and apprehensive look, with now and then a faint, 'Well, how does it look
now?' Our captain, as well as the passenger captain, were both alarmed,
and were poring over the chart in deep deliberation. A syllable was now
and then caught from them, but all seemed despairing.

"At ten o'clock we lay to till twelve; at four again till five. Rainy,
thick, and hazy, but not blowing very hard. All is dull and dismal; a
dreadful state of suspense, between feelings of exquisite joy in the hope
of soon seeing home, and feelings of gloomy apprehension that a few hours
may doom us to destruction.

"_Half-past seven._... Heaven be praised! The joyful tidings are just
announced of _Land!!_ Oh! who can conceive our feelings now? The wretch
condem