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    oce ^ n breeze , the majestic and snow-white albatross ; his enormous pinions bear him in circles high in air , while he surveys the strange object which has come to invade his domain . The sun ' s ray has struck upon his plumage of dazzling white , and nearer , nearer still , he approaches . Twice has he circled the mast-head ,

    and his wing has brushed the long streamer , whose quivering has startled him from his self-possession . Higher he soars , and now he is alraost stationary , while he scans the cause of his alarm . His pinions are again about to fan the air , but , no ! it is too late ; The master stands on the quarter-deck , and a ball from the

    unerring rifle of the western wilderness has reached the noble bird at his airy height ; downward he plunges with involuntary swiftness , and now he is motionless on the water , with his ruffled plumage , showing like a heaped snow-drift : even in death that majestic bird is beautiful . But , hark ! the mimic thunder has reverberated fr i the rocks around , and the air is filled with its

    screaming tenants all rising on the wing , as though greeting their common foe-man with their reproaches . But a few moments , and the source of their alarm is forgotten—they have again returned to their several pursuits . Look again to the south—still farther—farther ! For many days has the gallant craft breasted the head-wind and heavy sea ,

    in the sixtieth degree of latitude . Mark her through the snowstorm , with no cloth but a storm-sail on her . Three days have passed , and no fire has burned on board her . Look on yon hungry mariner eagerly devouring the raw and briny meat he cannot cook . Vegetable substances may not satiate his craving . Heavily blows the gale , and the mountain waves run high , as though eager

    to dash the vessel on the Southern Continent , where so many Spanish war-ships have left their stranded fragments . Vain hope ! she is not manned by Spaniards , nor is there aught in her build over which a lee-shore might claim power ; like a seabird in the wave , she laughs the tempest to scorn , and still points a northward prow , whether mounted on the foamy crest , or shooting down the deep abyss .

    Days have again elapsed , and that beautiful craft has again every spar rigged out , and is clothed from deck to trucks in her snow-white duck ; she has made twenty-five degrees of northing , and is gently gliding over the placid surface of the Pacific Ocean . The early morning sun is shining out , and over the whole surface of the azure sky not a vestige of cloud is to be seen . The joyous

    mariners are carolling in their light garments , revelling in the elasticity of a climate whose type must have been found in Paradise . It is mid-winter , yet the temperature is balmy and delicious , and every fibre of the body thrills with delight , while the spirit is entranced as with a spell . * A sail ! a sail !* shouts the man at the mast-head , and many glasses range the horizon on the instant . It is on the weather-bow , but the helm is altered ,

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    Beauty . 9 $

• Citation
  • Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 2, 1833, page 93, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2608/page/25/