Soon came a change in conditions. Wind breezed up and we had more than a fifteen-mile power; and so sails were in order--our first sight of operations of the kind. Next came white-capped waves; and at 5 P. M. had come those indescribably hateful movements of the ship, that many a one has felt before,--down first at bow, and next up at stern, and _vice versa_ continuing. "Confound," said they of the physically weakening brigade, "the deliberation, yet fearful determination and success with which these movements are made,"--as though transforming us first into lead and then into feathers; and soon follows an aggravating roll, playing with us as though we were alternately puff-balls and cannon-shot. But neither waves nor ship were to be _confounded_ to accommodate us. Instead, both ship and sea appeared to be in league with the old-fashioned adversary. It seemed, to the subjugated ones, as though his Satanic Majesty was down under the propellers, with a mighty power straightening himself up, and lifting as only he could do; and then, as aid, there appeared to be an imp scarcely less powerful, pulling down at the bow, and in addition, many a fellow of like nature under each side of the ship, lifting up and letting go alternately. What masters of the art! How easily they did it! Disgusted with the company and their doings, one after the other of our associates paid tribute to whom tribute was due; and what was left of our disgusted organisms went below as best they could. And here the curtain drops; for, though the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak. It is 6 P. M., Sunday. We were told that the winds increased to a gale; rain, snow-squalls and hail came into the fray. The vessel staggered; the stanch bulwarks were but a partial barrier to that fury-lashed sea; and the decks were often swept with the newest of new brooms. Next in our record is Friday P. M. Fair weather. Ship has come out ahead. Imps and their master are defeated and gone; the decks, as by talismanic transformation, are peopled again with the old brigade; and then for hours is in order a statement of what each has done and has not done. Well, the history of one lot of mortals, conditioned thus, is that of all.