away, and the scenes of our old household fireside, when we were all together, were renewed-so naturally and so truthfully, that, were I not an unbeliever in spiritual manifestations, I would think it was something more than a dream-that it was a sweet memorial of the immortality of earthly love. I might go further, and think that in the clinging embrace of Catherine there was an intimation I might soon be with them; and although my hard education and arid scepticism refuse the illusion, it can do no harm to prepare for that happy communion.

I

It

I am now in the middle of the waters, with nothing but a plank between me and eternity. And even allowing that I run no danger, still there is my uncertain health, which may be affected by the hardships and privations I encounter; so that it is within the limits of probability that may never revisit my native land, never see dear father or mother, or brothers or sisters-so that all they may know of one they have loved too well is, that he died on shipboard, and was laid to rest in the ocean. has always been my philosophy to be prepared for all events, and I can contemplate even this with equanimity at least with fortitude. What to me, after all, is this world? I have found it full of disappointment; but oh! how full of love. The disappointment will not follow, the love will endure, and if my dream foreshadow what nature yearns to believenamely, that we shall know after death those whom we loved in life-I have little reason to complain if my part in the life-drama be acted out, and if the curtain is to rise on the eternal reality. This life, with all its importance, its wars, its negotiations, its kings, its peoples, its myriads of human hearts beating with their several hopes and aspirations, is but a stepping-stone in that "altar stair which slopes through darkness up to God." It is but a matter of one generation, behind which accumulate the generations of the past, and before which stretches limitless the future history of man. And if we want still further to dwarf our puny aspirations, we have but to think of the relation this earth itself bears to the astral universe-to the infinite series upon series, cycle on cycle of intelligent existence. We have but to think of the great Centre and Author of all-of that ineffable Being whose breath is creation.

And when we have reached this climax in our speculation, and self is lost in the awful abyss, how sweet is it from the depths of the unspeakable darkness to see the mild lustre of that bright morning star-to think that at the very extreme of God's power, at the limit of Omnipotence itself, there is a tie which brings within His benevolence man, who has just been lost in the contemplation of His omnipotence. In what other way could the broken chain be reunited-the one link on earth, the other far up in infinity? Surely no other could do it but an infinite being. Cultivated infidelity cavils at the "method of reconciliation" as unreasonable or absurd. To me, when I bring together man's nothingness and God's omnipotence, and propose to myself the problem how these are to be united, the Gospel scheme flashes on my mind as one of those happy solutions of difficult problems which prove their truth by their very enunciation.

Saturday, July 24.

Nine A.M.-A slight breeze directly in our teeth. The winds seem determined to delay our voyage. Since Sunday we have hardly made as far as one good day's sailing would take us. First we had a head wind,

then we were becalmed, and now we have a head wind again. The weather, however, is beautiful, and I am getting reconciled to my mode of life. Four days ago, had I anticipated this slow progress, I would have expected an amount of ennui and impatience sufficient to make positive unhappiness, and now I am comfortable and contented. A ship is, after all, not so bad as a prison; and even if I was in a real prison, I feel I could get to endure it, and pass the period of my imprisonment with little positive unhappiness. The first week or so would be miserable, but habit, like oil poured on water, would bring a calm, and I would enjoy or endure the remainder of the term nearly as well as liberty. All of us have at one time or other experienced the blessed opiate of habit. It has made me prefer the quiet of the invalid chamber to the turmoil of active life. It has taught me to endure much that I do not care to recal. It would, perhaps, have been different twenty years ago, but the intervening time has brought its lesson-melancholy, no doubt, but satisfactory-for I would not exchange my present subdued and balanced feelings for my former ardour. I feel there is little in life worth vexing oneself for. At least, as the gates of ambition are now for ever shut on me, there is nothing which remains attainable which I very strongly desire. This may change also. The high ambition of youth, with its lofty thoughts, may have engendered an undue depreciation of the things within my reach, and as the memories of youth float more into the past, I may acquire a deeper interest in the every-day affairs of life. I may become ambitious of little successes, and take pride in the acquisition of objects now utterly indifferent to me.

Not unlikely, in after years, I may look back on the days I have spent in the Wally, fretting a little at our slow progress, as a comparatively bright spot of my existence. At sea we are isolated from the annoyances and vexations which environ us on land; we may safely doubt whether our actual presence would much improve our affairs, and if they are getting worse in our absence we are ignorant of it. Our notions, no doubt, are confined to the limits of the ship, but our thoughts are freer than on land. We can expatiate at our will on any subject which the train of association may present. We do not feel the sense of impotent effort, the hopelessness of exertion, the want of object, the sense of neglected duty, the bitterness of remorse, which, despite all our efforts at distraction, haunt our steps on land; on the contrary, we can select our images and group together only agreeable associations. We may even forget that the spring-time of our life is long since past, and the summer drawing to a close; or if we cannot well forget our years, we may deceive ourselves into the belief, that the future will redeem the past-that we may yet repair the evil we have done, and even do something to be placed to the credit side of the life ledger. All this we can fondly believe while here, but on land there is always some rude protest against the reasonableness of such hopes, some material obstacle which dams up the flow of our imagination, some legitimate logical consequence of our errors which crushes our pride and self-respect.

Perhaps I may avoid this by never returning to my former state of life. A voyage is always an adventure; we do not undertake it solely for the ostensible reasons of amusement or health, there is an unavowed belief that it may take us to the portals of fate, and that they may open

to us and present a new destiny to our choice. More especially do such thoughts exist in a voyage like the present, which will take me to the seat of war, where ordinary laws no longer govern human affairs, but Destiny yields the sceptre to Adventure. We are fain to postpone the conviction that we are ordinary mortals, and must be content with the common lot. All of us have somewhat of the hero in our composition when we begin life, and it is not altogether eliminated till the frosts of age chill the blood; nor is it to be wished that our disenchantment should be earlier. Let common sense teach her hollow maxims and interest apparently corroborate her lessons, we are the better of some romance in our disposition, nor would the want of it be compensated by that worldly success which it often impedes; wealth is a good thing, but the fresh heart is better; and whatever the world may think, he who possesses the latter gift is happier than if, without it, he were as rich as Rothschild.

Sunday, July 25.

A violent quarrel to-day between the Lascar and the Irishman. I understand it originated in a religious controversy as to the comparative merits of the Pope and the Great Lama. Phelim, who is a thorough Catholic, insisted on the miraculous power of the priests-an argument which seemed to have more effect on his antagonist than any of the other somewhat hazy reasons for orthodoxy alleged by the champion of the Pope. But the Lascar had retorted by affirming that it was a daily practice with the priests in his country to disembowel themselves for the glory of God; an operation from which their health did not suffer in the remotest degree, their entrails, after being out for an hour or two, going through their usual operations when replaced, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. To this, Phelim's reply proved that he had not acquired the virtue of toleration. He affirmed the Lascar's miracles to be downright thundering lies, and that the Great Lama and his priests were big rascals; whereupon the Lascar had rushed on the Irishman with a large knife, and would certainly have practically demonstrated the truth or falsehood of harmless disembowelling, had not the other sailors interfered. There was an ugly, revengeful look about my friend the Lascar which I did not like. Phelim had better take care of himself.

Monday, July 26.

Six P.M.-We have had a fair wind all day, and have been making fully seven knots an hour. We have outsailed several merchant vessels of the same rig with ourselves, though we seem to have no chance with three-masters. We have also seen some Spanish coasting vessels, and three steamers have passed, one going in the same direction with us, the other two apparently making for England.

I begin more and more to like this calm, peaceful life. It is a very idle one, truly, yet though there be no work to show, the time spent on a sea voyage is not unprofitable. It forces a man to turn his attention in upon himself, and take an inventory of his whole being, of his outward fortune, and of his moral nature. He passes under review his past life; he takes account of his vanished youth or manhood, and if the retrospect is not a cheering one, if he finds he has hitherto lived a useless life, even that is an important discovery-it may teach him humility. Why should

he be vain or proud who can point to nothing to justify his conceit? Or if, notwithstanding the protest of the past, there is a voice within the man which insists that he has capabilities for doing good, such conviction must have something to rest on, for in the solitude of the seas self-delusion cannot be maintained. If then there still remains the conviction of power, he will now resolve that the future will redeem the past, and he will set himself studiously to consider how this will best be done. He will appreciate his actual position as he would post up his ledger, placing on the one side the opposition he may anticipate from others and the obstacles to success he feels in himself; on the other side the friends on whom he can rely and the talents which in this time of disillusion he is still certain he possesses, and from the balance he will estimate his chance of success, and deduce the course he is to pursue. No doubt he has often gone through a somewhat similar course before. He has formed many resolutions and fallen from them, laid down many plans of action which have failed, or which he has abandoned, but never before has he been in such a favourable position for deliberation. The present is so devoid of interest, that the past and future take its place. Memory raises up the buried years, and the perils, the disappointments, and faults of the past, point a spectral but luminous hand towards the vistas of the future. Thus may the very idleness of sea-life be the source from whence springs a change for the better in the man, which will make his sea reveries more important to him, than an equal time sedulously devoted to business.

When he thus lays what may be the foundation of his external prosperity, he will also examine his heart, and I think it likely that absence from his friends and relations will make him more cordially appreciate their love, than he was apt to do in their company; and if on reviewing his conduct he has to reproach himself with want of kindness, there is nothing on the ocean to drown the voice of conscience or to distract attention from the unwelcome voice of self-condemnation. It is likely, therefore, he will resolve to be more kindly, sympathising, and courteous, and thus try to repay that deep debt of gratitude to others which all of us on reflection will admit to be due. Lastly, the voyager, if he has any sensibility, cannot look on the sea and the sky without thinking of God; nor can he think, though but for a moment, of Him without being selfcondemned for having disobeyed his only lawful master, and neglected his only perfect friend. These impressions imply humility and repentance, and naturally find their expression in prayer for mercy and pardon. Often, indeed, have we repented, often have we seen the vanity of earthly things, often felt the wretchedness of sin; but the cares of this world and its pleasures have been at hand to dissipate our resolutions, so soon as they were formed. Here they may be matured, for there is nothing to distract the mind. God's ministers, the ocean and the sky, are ever at hand to enforce his laws. In these preachers there is no sin or infirmity as in the ministry of man; we cannot suspect them of hypocrisy or insincerity. They have ever held the same testimony they now proclaim-they have ever preached the omnipotence, and power, and glory of God, and shown forth His mercy in the bounties of which they are the distributors to

men.

EVALLA.

BY W. BEILBY BATEMAN.

XII.

AN AWAKENING.

THAT invaluable ornament of the public service, Mrs. Peggles-that Atlas of Eversley-who bore so many joys and griefs in her oilskin-bag -who, calm as the sphinx, made creditors tremble with a double knock -who stolidly set the hearts of lovers fluttering-who presented death in a black envelope, and announced that, for the desolation it conveyed, there was twopence extra to pay-who seemed, in fact, a kind of demon with the power to move you as she listed-to bring all your passions into action—to make you laugh, weep, sigh, sob, or shiver, just as it suited her pleasure; and she unmoved all the while, as the surgeon over his patient scalpel in hand,-Mrs. Peggles had left that morning (for country posts are delivered on the Sabbath) a letter at the Blue Boar, directed to Mr. D'Arcy Livermore, and in the midst of the kidneys and Bell's Life, and the bitter beer and the meerschaum, which constituted his breakfast, he had read as follows:

"Spankie House, Berks.

"DEAR LIVER,-How am I? Pretty well! How's yourself? I left Cambridge directly after you, and ran up to see the little villageLondon. It was the old story: club to dine, cook better than ever, then cigar; theatre, then cigar; a drop in at Evans's, then cigar; soda and brandy at the Fishery, then cigar; to Billy's rooms in the Temple, then cigar; never saw daylight all the time! Anxious to know whether the

sun was still in business (like the governor, from nine to five), I booked my remains by the rail to Muddleham, went to bed, took twenty-four hours out of Mr. Morphus, found the sun hadn't retired or sold off, and here I am-and here I want D'Arcy Livermore, for I have had an adventure.

"Of course an adventure means mischief and a lovely woman.

"The theatre is open with such unparalleled attractions, for this month only (after which the company must positively appear at the Antipodes), that the other night I was the only person in the boxes. Having left and re-entered, I missed the box door, wandered down the wrong passage, and found myself on the stage. Melodrama of thrilling interest; bandits in buff boots; blue fire at ninepence a night; virtuous heroine, a beauty in bombazine; distracted lover in corkscrew curls; and remorseless baron with daggers and dungeons. Harrowing characters in front,' but at the sides' amiably open to the offer of cigars; not offended by the suggestion of brandy-and-water, and even rendered beaming by beer!

"I was introduced to that virtuous heroine, and she condescended to partake of the slight refreshments I have mentioned, and pressed my