answered by inarticulate yelling or disrespectful grins. But this is a
rare case; the general rule is, that we maintain our dignity unimpaired
all down the Channel. Then, again, when no ships are near, there is the
constant excitement of consulting our charts and wondering where we are.
Every man of us has a different theory on this subject every time he
looks at the chart; but no man rudely thrusts his theory on another, or
aspires to govern the ideas of the rest in virtue of his superior
obstinacy in backing his own opinion. Did I not assert a little while
since that we were a pure republic? And is not this another and a
striking proof of it?

In such pursuits and diversions as I have endeavoured to describe, the
time passes quickly, happily, and adventurously, until we ultimately
succeed, at four in the morning on the sixth day of our cruise, in
discovering the light of the Longship's Lighthouse, which we know to be
situated off the Land's End. We are now only some seven-and-twenty miles
from the Scilly Islands, and the discovery of the lighthouse enables us
to set our course by the compass cleverly enough. The wind which has
thus far always remained against us, falls, on the afternoon of this
sixth day, to a dead calm, but springs up again in another and a
favourable quarter at eleven o'clock at night. By daybreak we are all on
the watch for the Scilly Islands. Not a sign of them. The sun rises; it
is a magnificent morning; the favourable breeze still holds; we have
been bowling along before it since eleven the previous night; and ought
to have sighted the islands long since. But we sight nothing: no land is
visible anywhere all round the horizon.

Where are we? Have we overshot Scilly?--and is the next land we are
likely to see Ushant or Finisterre? Nobody knows. The faces of the
Brothers Dobbs darken; and they recall to each other how they deprecated
from the first this rash venturing into unknown waters. We hail two
ships piteously, to ask our way. The two ships can't tell us. We unroll
the charts, and differ in opinion over them more remarkably than ever.
The Dobbses grimly opine that it is no use looking at charts, when we
have not got a pair of parallels to measure by, and are all ignorant of
the scientific parts of navigation. Mr. Migott and I manfully cheer the
drooping spirits of the crew with Guinness's stout, and put a smiling
face upon it. But in our innermost hearts, we think of Columbus, and
feel for