THE JOURNAL OF M. J. DUMONT-D’URVILLE. 443 
them to invent the kind of ceremony to which they wished to subject 
those on board the Astrolabe, and it will be seen later that in this respect 
their powers did not fail. We had attained the 66° S. lat., everything 
led us to hope that we should soon pass the Antarctic circle, and according 
to custom I was officially warned that the next day I should receive a 
visit from Father Antarctic. After a rain of rice and beans hurled from 
the top, I received a postilion mounted on a seal, who brought me the 
message from his fantastic sovereign. I will spare the reader the costume 
of this singular ambassador and the contents of his letter; I observed 
with pleasure that the sailors had changed the ceremony of baptism, 
customary on the line, to one of communion in one element, that of 
wine, and as this would be better for them, I had no objection to make. 
We all hoped that the next day we should have passed the polar circle, 
but the calms which succeeded the wind arrested our progress. We 
were at the season when the days are longest in the glacial zone, so that 
at 9 p.m. the sun was still above the horizon and its luminous disc set 
slowly behind the land, whose existence was for several of us still very 
doubtful. At 10.50 this luminary disappeared, and showed up the 
raised contour of the land in all its sharpness. Everyone had run to- 
gether on to the deck to enjoy the magnificent spectacle which offered 
itself to our gaze. It would have been impossible indeed to paint the 
grandeur of the sight. The calm of night gave to the enormous masses 
of ice which surrounded us a grander but also a more severe aspect; all 
the crew watched the sun disappearing behind the land and leaving 
behind him a long train of light. At midnight there was still twilight, 
and we could easily read on the deck. The night lasted only half-an- 
hour; I took advantage of it to snatch some rest, postponing till the 
next day the task of clearing up doubts as to the existence of the land 
in front of us. 
Jan. 20.—At 4 a.m. I counted 72 large icebergs (glaces) round us. 
I knew that during the night we had hardly changed our position, and 
yet among all these enormous blocks surrounding us, each with its own 
peculiar shape, although presenting an aspect of uniformity, I hardly 
recognised one of the floating islands I had noticed the night before. 
The sun had been up a long time, and although the atmosphere was 
misty its warmth could be felt, and all the icebergs (glaces) around us 
seemed to be undergoing an active disintegration. One of them, which 
was only a short distance from us, attracted my notice especially. 
Numerous streams fuwed from its summit, making deep hollows in its 
side, and hurled themselves into the sea in cascades. The weather was 
magnificent; but unfortunately there was no wind; before us rose the 
land: one could distinguish the details of it. Its aspect was very uni- 
form. Entirely covered with snow, it stretched from east to west and 
seemed to drop towards the sea by an easy incline. In the midst of the 
uniform greyish tint which it presented we could see no peak, no single 
