The crossing now takes about six days and a half. By the time you have spent two in getting your sea legs on, and three more in reviewing, and being reviewed by your fellow-passengers, you will find yourself at the end of your troubles--and your voyage. No, people do not fraternize on board ship, during such a short passage, unless a rumor runs from cabin to cabin that there has been some accident to the machinery, or that the boat is in imminent danger. At the least scare of this kind, every one looks at his neighbor with eyes that are alarmed, but amiable, nay, even amicable. But as soon as one can say: "We have come off with a mere scare this time," all the facial traits stiffen once more, and nobody knows anybody. [Illustration: "LIKE EGYPTIAN MUMMIES."] Universal grief only will bring about universal brotherhood. We must wait till the Day of Judgment. When the world is passing away, oh! how men will forgive and love one another! What outpourings of good-will and affection there will be! How touching, how edifying will be the sight! The universal republic will be founded in the twinkling of an eye, distinctions of creed and class forgotten. The author will embrace the critic and even the publisher, the socialist open his arms to the capitalist. The married men will be seen "making it up" with their mothers-in-law, begging them to forgive and forget, and admitting that they had not been always quite so-so, in fact, as they might have been. If the Creator of all is a philosopher, or enjoys humor, how he will be amused to see all the various sects of Christians, who have passed their lives in running one another down, throw themselves into one another's arms. It will be a scene never to be forgotten. Yes, I repeat it, the voyage from Liverpool to New York is monotonous and wearisome in the extreme. It is an interval in one's existence, a week more or less lost, decidedly more than less. One grows gelatinous from head to foot, especially in the upper part of one's anatomy. In order to see to what an extent the brain softens, you only need look at the pastimes the poor passengers go in for. A state of demoralization prevails throughout. They bet. That is the form the disease takes. [Illustration: THE AUCTIONEER.]