A swell like this one can only witness off the Cape of Good Hope. It was to me a novel and magnificent sight. Uniform and lofty ridges of waves advancing in rapid succession, and yet with so regular and undisturbed a motion that one might easily fancy these great walls of water to be stationary: yet onward they moved in uniform and martial order; whilst as the ship rose upon their crests she seemed to hover for a moment over the ocean in mid air. And now the wind drew round to the northward and it blew almost a gale. The vessel felt its power and bent before it. It was beautiful to watch the process of hand-reefing topsails and making the vessel snug--the ready obedience to the word of command and the noiseless discipline with which each duty was fulfilled. First had the men clustered on the rigging like bees; then at the word to lay out they fearlessly extended themselves along the yard-arm, and whilst they took in the reefs the ship pitched and rolled so heavily that one felt anxious for their safety: but there they swung securely between high heaven and the sea. SEA-BIRDS. The sea-birds held their holiday in the stormy gale. The lordly and graceful Albatross, whose motion is a very melody, swept screaming by upon the blast. The smaller Cape pigeons followed us fast, passing and repassing across the vessel's track. At last one of them spies a fragment on the waters, which has been thrown overboard: a moment it hovers above, then plunges down. But the other birds have seen it too; and all, pouncing on the spot, move their wings confusedly and seem to run along the waters with a rapid and eager motion. Now is there discord wild amongst them. A screaming and diving, swimming and running, mingled with a chattering noise. No sooner does one gain the morsel than another tears it from him. Who will be the victor here? The Albatross; for he sweeps triumphantly over all, swoops down, and with a scream scares off the timid little multitude; whilst high above his head he holds his arching wings; and now in pride and beauty he sits upon the waters and, drifting fast astern, gradually fades in the twilight. What wonder that a sailor is superstitious! Separated in early youth from his home ere he has forgotten the ghost stories of childhood, and whilst the young and simple heart still loves to dwell upon the marvellous, he is placed in such scenes as these: in the dark night, amidst the din of waves and storms, he hears wild shrieks upon the air, and by him float huge forms, dim and mysterious, from which fancy is prone to build strange phantoms; and oft from aged sailors he gathers legends and wondrous tales suited to his calling; whilst the narrator's mysterious tone and earnest voice and manner attest how firmly he himself believes the story. ARRIVAL AT THE CAPE. HIRE THE LYNHER. September 21.