41: Frezier, who crossed the line, March 5th, 1712, says,
"When it was no longer to be doubted that we were to the southward of
the line, the foolish ceremony practised by all nations was not omitted.

"The persons to be so served are seized by the wrists, to ropes
stretched fore and aft on the second deck for the officers, and before
the mast for the sailors; and after much mummery and monkey tricks, they
are let loose, to be led after one another to the main mast, where they
are made to swear on a sea chart that they will do by others as is done
by them, according to the laws and statutes of navigation: then they pay
to save being wetted, but always in vain, for the captains themselves
are not quite spared."

Jaques le Maire, the first who sailed round Cape Horn, mentions in his
Journal, 8th July, 1615, baptizing the sailors when he arrived at the
_Barrels_.--Has this any thing in common with the ceremony of crossing
the line?]

20th. The long tiresome calms, and the beautiful moonlight nights near
the equator, have been talked of, and written of, till we know all about
them. Mention but passing the line, and you conjure up a wide,
apparently interminable, glassy dull sea: sails flapping, a solitary
bird sinking with heat, or a shark rising lazily to catch a bait; or, at
best, a calm warm night, with a soft moonlight silvering over the
_treacherous_ deep, and rendering the beholders, who ought to be lovers
if they are not, insensible of the rocks that may lurk below.--But our's
was not the _beau ideal_ of crossing the line: we had fresh breezes in
the day, and thunder and lightning at night; saw few tropic birds, and
those very vigorous, and fish more nimble than sharks, or even sun-fish,
of which, however, we met a due proportion. I had once been in a
tropical calm, and I really, after trying them both, prefer the breezes
and thunder-storms. The other night we had one, such as Milton talks of:

"Either tropic now
'Gan thunder, and both ends of heav'n: the clouds
From many a horrid rift abortive poured
Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire
In ruin reconciled; nor slept the winds
Within their stoney caves, but rush'd abroad
From the four hinges of the world, and fell
On the vext wilderness."

I never see a thunder-storm at sea, but it reminds me of the vision of
Ezekiel:

"The sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze."

It is awful and grand