It is impossible to keep one's mind idle, you know; for, even when engaged in an abstract contemplation of the most engrossing theme, the fancy _will_ stray off into by-paths that lead to strangely dissimilar ideas and very disconnected associations. As the German steamer in which I was going to New York did not start until next day, I put up for the night at Radley's--that haven of shore- comfort to the Red-Sea-roasted, Biscay-tossed, sea-sickened Indian warriors returning home by the P and O vessels--where, you may be sure, I met with every attention that my constitution required in the way of rest and refreshment; and, at midday on the morrow, embarking on board the stately _Herzog von Gottingen_, I passed through the Needles, outward-bound across the Atlantic to the "New World" of promise! Ocean voyages are so common now-a-days that they are not worth mentioning. Mine was no exception to the rule; the only noticeable point that I observed being the rare courageous temperament of the Teutonic ladies, and the undaunted spirit they displayed in "fighting their battles o'er again" at the saloon table, in despite of the insidious attacks of Neptune. No matter how frequently the fell malady of the sea should assail them--at breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, or at any of the other and many meals which the ship's caterer thought necessary to our diurnal wants--these delicate fair ones would "never say die," on having to beat a precipitate retreat to their cabins. They would return again, I assure you, in a few minutes, to resume the repast which had been temporarily interrupted; smiling as if nothing had happened, and showing, too, that nothing _had_ happened, to seriously interfere with their deglutinal faculties! This was not my first voyage--I did not tell you so before? Well, suppose I did not; don't you remember my saying that I was not aware of being under any obligation to you which would make me regard you as the receptor of _all_ my secrets? This was not my first voyage, I say; consequently, ship-board life was no novelty to me--nor the Atlantic Ocean, either, for that matter. I was used to the one, I had seen the other previously. I was as much at home to both, in fact, as I had been in the vicarage parlour standing beside dear little Miss Pimpernell's old arm-chair in the chimney corner! I love the sea, in rest or unrest. It is never monotonous to me, as some find it; for I think it ever- changing, ever new. I love it always--under every aspect of its kaleidoscopic face.