rock, because the wind
having increased, and blowing off shore, we could not make Gibraltar
otherwise than by keeping well into the shore, to prevent our being
driven towards Africa. All this about the wind was so true, that had we
preserved to the last the direction we were then following, we must
inevitably have gone to Africa, and added a day and a night to our
voyage.

The Marseille merchant, who had made the voyage twenty times, listened
to all this; but although very intelligent on most subjects, and more
particularly with regard to the qualities and value of silks and
quincaillerie, his notions of practical geography had not probably
attained any great development, as he appeared perfectly satisfied. I
therefore passed the day and retired that night filled with curiosity
respecting this remarkable promontory, that had escaped the notice of
Arrowsmith and the continental geographers. The following morning, to my
extreme astonishment, the double mountain was still as undivided as
ever, notwithstanding our having approached so near to the great rock as
to distinguish its colour, and the details of its surface. We were still
steering so as to leave it behind us.

I now began to suspect something was wrong; and getting hold of the
merchant, proceeded to question him closely, recalling to his
recollection the captain's explanation of the previous day, and the
consequent miraculous union of Gibraltar with the mountain of the
monkies, to accomplish which the former must have quitted Europe
subsequently to the publication of the last newspapers we had seen at
Marseille. His replying that he certainly thought the great rock put him
in mind of Gibraltar confirmed my suppositions; and I prevailed upon him
to repeat his opinion to the ignoramus, who was peaceably eating his
breakfast on the bulwarks of the quarter-deck. We went to him instantly,
and on hearing the remark, he merely observed that it was very possible;
and leaving his sausage, quietly proceeded to the helm, which he no more
quitted until we were in the bay at four in the afternoon. We had only
lost about five or six hours by the blunder; but had we continued the
same course another half-hour, we could not possibly have made Gibraltar
that day.

It was with more than the ordinary excitement of the organ of
travelling,--for if phrenology deserves to be called a science, such an
organ must exist,--that I approached this great Leviathan of the seas;
perhaps, a