The night is simply superb, and the heavens are ablaze with stars, like a jewelled canopy stretching over us as far as the eye can reach. Such brilliancy above! Such a soft, hazy atmosphere around us! We seem to be floating away into dreamland, as our giant vessel glides like a phantom ship through the drowsy night; but for the phosphorescent waves which run rippling at the side, or swirl in white feathery foam round the bow, we should not know that we are moving--yet we are going at the rapid rate of sixteen knots an hour, so steadily her iron keel treads through the world of waters. Some of our fellow-passengers group themselves on the deck, or stroll up and down singing old home songs or catches, and glees. Lulled by these pleasant sounds and occasional echoes of the sailors’ voices, we sleep soundly through our first night at sea. To some this voyage is a new experience, and to them everything is a pleasure and delight; their senses are on the _qui vive_, and they extract a keen enjoyment from the slightest matter; whether they are watching the shifting colours of the sea and skies, strolling idly up and down, or leaning over the bulwarks, straining their eyes over the vast expanse, eagerly expecting a school of whales to go spouting past, they are equally happy and content, seeing mountains where never a molehill exists; the atmospheric changes interest them, the whistling of the wind through the shrouds makes a new music to their ears, and the life on board ship with all its variations has the charm of novelty. But the novelty soon wears off and they gradually awake to the fact that a sea-voyage is a most monotonous affair. This the _habitués_, to whom the voyage is as an oft-told tale, realise from the first moment; they know precisely how the next ten days are likely to pass, and at once set their minds to enliven the monotony, every one contributing something to the amusement of the whole. We are especially fortunate on the present occasion, there being several of Colonel Mapleson’s company on board, who are most amiable in their endeavours to amuse their fellow-passengers. There is also an unusual amount of amateur musical and dramatic talent on board, and they combine together and organise a concert or some kind of dramatic entertainment every evening. About eight o’clock everybody turns out in pretty, simple toilettes, and the stream sets towards the music-room. Great Britain is sparsely represented, and I don’t think with the best specimens; the scanty few seem manufactured for foreign travel only, and are not of the finest workmanship, either of art or nature.