[Sidenote: Crossing the Atlantic.]

It was fortunate that Lord Elgin had arranged to leave his bride in
England, to follow at a less inclement season; for he had an unusually
stormy passage across the Atlantic--'the worst passage the ship had ever
made.'

Writing on the 16th of January to Lady Grey he says:

Hitherto we have had a very boisterous passage. On the 13th we had a
hurricane, and were obliged to lie to--a rare occurrence with these
vessels. It was almost impossible to be on deck, but I crept out of a
hole for a short time, to behold the sea, which was truly grand in its
wrath; the waves rolling mountains high, and the wind sweeping the
foam off their crests, and driving it, together with the snow and
sleet, almost horizontally over the ocean. We lay thus for some hours,
our masts covered with snow, pitching and tossing, now in the trough
of the sea, and now on the summit of the billows, without anxiety or
alarm, so gallantly did our craft bear itself through these perils.

The ship is very full, with half a million of specie, and a motley
group of passengers: a Bishop, an ex-secretary of Legation and an
ex-consul, both of the United States; a batch of Germans and of
Frenchmen; a host of Yankees, the greater part being bearded, which
is, I understand, characteristic of young America, particularly when
it travels; some specimens of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Canada, and
the Rocky Mountains, not to mention English and Scotch. Every now and
then, at the most serious moments, sounds of uproarious mirth proceed
from a party of Irish, who are playing antics in some corner of the