We now commenced making preparations for that much-dreaded place, Cape Horn. Took the anchors in on deck, and lashed them solid; also the boats from off the cranes, and secured every thing generally. We were now sailing along with fine breezes from the northward, but the coolness of the air reminded us that we were approaching the southernmost point of land. On the 13th of January the wind veered round to the south, and increased to a heavy gale. We reduced the sail to a close-reefed main-topsail, sent down top gallant yards, and prepared for a regular “Cape Horner.” At midnight, however, the wind abated, and sea went down; next morning it was pleasant, with fine northerly breezes; but at night the wind again hauled to the southward, blowing heavy, with rain, which obliged us to heave to. Thus the wind often changes in the Atlantic in this latitude; sometimes ships are kept here for weeks by head winds. On the 25th we were off Staten Land. This island presents a bleak, rocky appearance. Saw a ship trying out, which assures us that sperm whales have been taken here lately. On Saturday, the 26th, we were off the island of Cape Horn. This island is said to have received its name from its conical shape. We here saw quite a fleet of merchantmen and whalemen bound round the Horn, no less than twenty-two ships being in sight from masthead. About nine o’clock this morning, while sailing along with a fair, pleasant wind, carrying studding-sails, all hands were suddenly called to take in sail, and, before the ship was under snug canvas, the gale broke upon us in all its fury, coming, as seamen say, “butt-end first.” However, we soon had every thing snug, and then “let the winds pipe.” With a good ship and plenty of sea-room, we felt no danger. The next day great numbers of porpoises were seen, going through the water like race-horses. Plenty of albatross and Cape pigeons were in sight also. We caught an albatross, a beautiful large bird, perfectly white, measuring sixteen feet from tip to tip of its wings. They are called by seamen “Goneys,” for what reason we know not. We also saw large numbers of “Mother Carey’s Chickens,” that beautiful little bird so well known to all. They were flying in the wake of the ship, skimming along its surface, apparently happy and contented. As we sat watching them and the noble albatross, as he went wheeling and circling in the air, we could not but think of that great Creator who endowed them with the instinct which they possess—an instinct that guides them over the trackless waste of waters hundreds and thousands of miles from land, and then to land again, day after day, and week after week. No place in the world presents so many evidences of a great and a good God as the vast and mighty ocean.