him to face the realities of life.  An order to shorten sail transforms him at once into another being.  He usually swears with refined eloquence on unexpected occasions, when a sudden order draws him from visionary meditation.  Dreams, which may be the creation of indigestible junk—­that is, salt beef which may have been round the Horn a few times—­are realities:  privileged communications from a mystic source.  There is great vying with each other in the relation of some grotesque nightmare fancy, which may have lasted the twentieth part of a second, but which takes perhaps a quarter of an hour to repeat; traverses vast space in a progression of hideous tragedy and calamitous shipwreck; and is served up with increased profusion of detail when the history of the passage is manuscripted to their homes and to their lovers.  Here is an instance of this mania in an unusually exaggerated form.  For obvious reasons it is undesirable that the name of the vessel, or the captain, should be mentioned here.  The captain had a dream, or, as he stated, a vision, when off Cape Horn bound to Valparaiso in a barque belonging to a South Wales port.  The vessel had been tossed about for days with nothing set but close reefed topsails, amid the angry storming and churning of liquid mountains.  One midnight, when eight bells had been struck to call the middle watch, there suddenly appeared on the poop the commander, who was known to be a man of God.  He gave the order to hard up the helm and make sail.  When she came before the wind the crew were puzzled to know the cause of this strange proceeding, and their captain did not keep them long in doubt.  He called all hands aft, and when they had mustered he began:  “Men, you know I believe in God and His Christ.  The latter has appeared to me in a vision, and told me that I must sail right back to where we came from; and if I hesitate or refuse to obey the command the ship and all the crew will perish.”  The crew were awestruck; the captain’s statement gave rise to vivid stories of presentiments; while the luckless craft scampered back to the port where the unsuspecting owner dwelt.  In due course the vessel arrived in the roads.  A tug came alongside, and the captain was greeted in the orthodox nautical style.  The supernatural tale was unfolded and the tug proceeded to convey the news of the arrival of the T——­.  The owner would have fallen on the neck of his captain had he been near.  He wept with uncontrollable joy.  His feelings swept him into ecstasies of generosity.  Gifts of an unusual character for captains to receive were to be conferred upon him, and the owner longed for the flow of the tide so that his sentiments towards him might be conveyed in person.  “Ah,” said he, “how often have I said that Captain M——­ was the smartest man that ever sailed from a British port!  Just fancy, to make the voyage out and home in two and a half months!  It is phenomenal!”

The master of the tug gaped at this local magnate in wonder, and thought that sudden lunacy had seized him.  He blurted out, “Surely, Mr. J——­, you have not lost your reason over this terrible misfortune?”