GOING TO SEA.

WHAT a passion English boys of all ranks have for the sea! We are all more or less possessed by it, have an inborn love of the ocean, and are never more delighted than when listening to, or reading, some tale of maritime adventure, or sailors' experiences. The first book that fairly rivets the boy's mind is "Robinson Crusoe," or "Captain Cook," and as we grow older, we do not fail to look out, with interest, for books such as "Coulter's Voyages," Cooper's Sea Novels, or "Herman Melville's Adventures."

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boys afterwards went to sea, making his first voyage to the East Indies; and the others continued their experiments, till they became pretty export sailors in an amateur way.

But the strong love of the sea is not peculiar to boys in seaports only. In inland towns, in places where boys have never seen the sea at all, the passion is nearly as strong. They read "Robinson," lend the book about, and relate all sorts of marine adventures to each other; if there is a bit of water near, they manufacture miniature ships, and have sailing matches; they launch paper boats upon the tide of rain as it sweeps along the village streets after a heavy shower. Who, that has been bred in an inland town, can ever forget the emotion with which he gazed on the sea for the first time! The remembrance of that first sight rises up with vivid distinctness, after the lapse of many years. We can remember, when a child, our own sensations of wonder, awe, and delight. That seeming great hill of water, (for the probably imperfect vision of the child prevents him appreciating the extreme distance); but the immense mass of water, and the little specks of ships along its apparent summit; the notion, whispered by the nurse, that worlds lay beyond that ocean line; the solemn roar of the waves, as they broke along the shore; all impressed the mind with a sense of power and vastness which was never afterwards effaced. Then there was the "treat" given to the impatient children, of a sail from one side of the little harbour to the other, the rolling about of the little boat amid the swell of the sea, which dashed in at the harbour's mouth, the sobbing of the girls, and the dizzy joy of the boys; who could ever forget so bewildering and exciting an event in a child's life?

Observe the boys about a seaport town. How they take to the water like Newfoundland dogs-are ever stealing away with any old cock-boat they can lay hold of, whether with oars or not-a single oar will serve their purpose, and the biggest boy takes the post of sculler. What a prize to steal off with a boat possessed of a bit of sail! We remember, well enough, once in a seaport town, while the hands belonging to a little coasting sloop were all ashore, hastening across the vessel's deck, dropping into a little boat with a sail and mast lying in the bottom, hastily unloosing the rope which held it to the sloop, and stealthily dropping down the harbour with the tide. It was a quiet summer's evening, and the sun was just going down; there were three boys of us in all, and we thought to have a glorious hour's sailing. We knew nothing about the handling of a boat, nor of the trimming of its sail; but up went the bit of canvas, and we stood ont to sea. We scudded along, and grew elated with our seamanship. A large vessel was bearing in at the harbour's mouth, and tacking from side to side in our way. We were puzzled at her proceedings, but held on Boys at school, at least it was so in our younger days, our course nevertheless. We seemed to have got safely are always talking about "running away to sea." They beyond her reach, when, not fifty yards off, she suddenly think it a free and joyous life, dream of sailing among tacked again, and stood right across our path! A loud green islands, under mid-day suns, adventuring amid voice hailed us from her deck, through a speaking- strange people, seeing foreign towns, wandering through trumpet, "get out of the way, you lubbers! We were, delicious orange groves, basking in novelty, plenty, and however, too much alarmed to get out of the way, and beauty. Alas! it is all a delusion and a romance; there too ignorant of seamanship to know how. In five is no life so hard as that of the sailor-no lot so wretched minutes, the huge vessel was down upon us, and our boat, sail, boys and all, were in the water. Fortunately, we could swim like ducks, and were soon picked up thoroughly soaked; the boat was recovered and restored to its owners; but we were not cured. One of those

as that of the poor ship-boy. No tyranny can be imagined more complete than that exercised on board ship. The weak and helpless are kicked about till they grow sufficiently strong to be able to resist, and then they begin to tyrannize over others in their turn.

Then there was the sea-sickness and the drudgery, and the kicking and cuffing about of the simple boy, and the rough language and swearing, with not a kind word from anybody about him; there was the horrid, fishy coffee that he had to drink, and the old horse, or sea beef, he had to eat, and the mess of burgoo he had to sup; there was the scouring of the decks, the running up the shrouds in the cold and wet; the furling and unfurling of sails in the tops, by day and by night, all terribly trying to a boy who had been accustomed to the quiet of home life, and who had come to sea with white hands. There were, however, a few fine hours, during which the sensitive boy gave a loose to his imagination, and enjoyed true pleasure. Here, for instance

We have a keen recollection of a runaway adventure, no one in the wide world knowing that I was there. And not many years ago. Two boys determined to "run I thought how much better and sweeter it must be, to be away to sea." They packed up in a bundle a-piece, ali buried under the pleasant hedge that bounded the sunny that they could carry, and started over-night, to walk south side of our village grave-yard, where every Sunday nearly twenty miles for the next large town, from whence I had used to walk, after church, in the afternoon; and I they were to take the canal-boat to the seaport, some almost wished I was there now; yes, dead and buried in forty miles off. They had imparted a sketch of their that churchyard. All the time, my eyes were filled with intentions to one in their confidence, and their plan was tears, and I kept holding my breath to choke down the soon conveyed to the father of one of the boys, and the sobs, for, indeed I could not help feeling as I did, and brother of the other. After a hasty consultation, they de- no doubt, any boy in the world would have felt just as I termined to follow the runaways. They started at mid- did then." night, amid a storm of snow and sleet, and reached the canal office half-an-hour before the first boat left. There they lay in wait. Soon the two boys trudged up, hastily, with their sticks and bundles; they were fagged and worn out, but were still resolute to proceed. After some parleying, they gave in, and were carried homewards in silence, the only words they spoke declaring their intention of "going to sea" at some other time. It is difficult to turn a boy's mind from this resolution after it has once taken full possession of him; so it was found the only course to let them have their way, and in six months, one of them was rigged out and sent to sea, with the consent of his friends. He sailed for a West Indian port, and only one letter ever reached his home. He was then under the burning sun of Demerara; he had suffered the usual hardships of the ship-boy on his first voyage, and the romance of a sea life had been thoroughly dispelled. But it was now too late to look back, and, as he himself said, "he had made his bed, so he must lie on it." He never saw old England again; the vessel sailed for St. Andrew's, in the St. Lawrence, to take in a cargo of timber. Shortly after they put out to sea from that port, a tremendous storm came on, in which many vessels perished. Ships laden with timber run great risks in such storms, and frequently become water-logged, and go down. Such was supposed to have been the fate of the unfortunate ship in which this boy sailed, for he was never after heard of, and the stern of the vessel was picked up some months after, with the name still legible. There was much weeping and wailing over the lost son, but his fate was happy, compared with the life of misery and tyranny that most sailors lead.

"At last we hoisted the stern-sails up to the top-sail yards; and as soon as the vessel felt them, she gave a sort of bound like a horse, and the breeze blowing more and more, she went ploughing along, shaking off the foam from her bows, like from a bridle-bit. Every mast and timber seemed to have a pulse in it that was beating with life and joy; and I felt a wild exulting in my own heart, and as if I would be glad to bound along so round the world. . . . . A wild bubbling and bursting was at my heart, as if a hidden spring had just gushed out there; and my blood ran tingling along my frame, like mountain brooks in spring freshets. But soon these raptures abated, when, after a brief idle interval, we were again set to work, and I had a vile commission to clean out the chicken coops, and make up the bed of the pigs in the long boat. Miserable dog's life is this of the sea! commanded like a slave, and set to work like an ass! vulgar and brutal men lording it Herman Melville has written a book called "Red-over me, as if I were an African in Alabama. Yes, yes, burn," which gives a wonderfully graphic picture of the blow on ye breezes, and make a speedy end to this aboexperiences of a sailor boy during his first voyage. Born minable voyage!" on the banks of the Hudson, in the State of New York- The boy, in time, learnt to run up the shrouds in the (and the American boys of English breed have the same darkest night, while the vessel was plunging and rearing powerful innate love of the ocean that characterizes our like a mad horse beneath him, holding by the spar from own boys) he was early possessed by a desire to be a which he expected every moment to be jerked, then tied sailor, and read with fascination all sorts of books that his reef point, and slid down on deck by the bare stays. treated of the sea. The very advertisements of ships, in He even came to take a delight in furling the top-gallant the newspapers, excited his interest. He determined to sails and royals in a hard blow. There was a wild deligo to sea-his mother thinking him wilful and erring-rium about it, a fine rushing of the blood about the heart, but he would not be hindered, and away he went. He and a glad thrilling and throbbing of the whole system, shipped in a vessel bound for Liverpool, with the captain at finding himself tossed up at every pitch into the clouds of which he was much fascinated, as well as by the beau- of a stormy sky; then the feeling of mastering the rebeltiful cabin, the interior of which he never afterwards saw, lious canvas, and tying it down like a slave to the spar, and he bargained for a pay of three dollars a month, not gave him the sense of power and of growing knowledge of a penny of which he ever touched. Scantily clad and his craft, which was very delicious. miserably provided in all ways, the venturous boy determined to proceed to sea. His first job was the clearing out of the pig-pen, and slushing down the top-mast, not very romantic processes, and the last rather a fearful one for a little boy. The vessel sailed, towed out of the Hudson by a steam-tug. His heart was like lead as he saw the shore disappear, and found himself on the wide ocean without a friend.

Among the seamen on board, were several strange specimens of character; one of them, Larry, an old whaler, entertained quite a sentimental distaste for the refinements of civilization, and whose beau ideal of a happy life was that of Madagascar.

Why," said Larry, "in Madygasky there, they don't wear no togs at all, nothing but a bowline round the midships; they don't have no dinners, but keeps a dinin' all day off fat pigs and dogs; they don't go to bed anywhere, but keeps a noddin' all the time; and they gets drunk too, from some first-rate arrack they make from cocoa-nuts; and smokes plenty of baccy too, I tell you. Fine country, that!"

"When I looked up at the high, giddy masts, and thought how often I must be going up and down them, I thought sure enough, that some luckless day or other, I should certainly fall overboard and he drowned. And then, I thought of lying down at the bottom of the sea, stark alone, with the great waves rolling over me, and "And what's the use of bein' snivelized," exclaimed he

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buzzards under the wing of a tame nurse, and the omni- fraud. vorous goslings cared for by a wild one.

My sedate middle-aged limbs, not being well-adapted for woodland climbing, I placed a ladder against the tree, and watched each day the progress of the callow brood. One morning, when the buzzard had set out on her usual chase, I saw, distinctly, in the nest four little goslings opening their tender beaks and gaping for food; the hen soon returned, bearing a frog, which she quickly tore into morsels, and distributed to her fosterchildren, who did as ample justice to the repast as if they had been really birds of prey.

The hen continued to feed her brood for many days, until one morning, a precocious little gosling, whose feathers had begun to grow, balanced himself so daringly on the edge of the lofty nest, that at length he fell down. Happily his wings formed a natural parachute, and brought him softly to the ground. Arrived there, he shook his tender plumage, cackled faintly, and waddled off towards a pond which lay at a short distance.

Just then the poor buzzard, seeing her imprudent nursling running into danger, flew to stop him; but the water had an irresistible attraction for the truant, and dashing into it, he began to swim. He plunged, he dived, he floated, in a state of most exquisite enjoyment, and, without regarding his nurse, who fluttered anxiously along the brink, crying to the swimmer to return.

Once she tried to use force, and pounced on the rebel, meaning to seize him with her talons and carry him back to the nest, but the gosling dived, disappeared beneath the water, and rose at some distance.

Then the poor bewildered buzzard returned to her nest. Alas! she found it in a state of revolt.

The young ones had heard the joyous cackling of their brother, as he sported on the lake, and the sound Collected on the had awakened their aquatic instinct. edge of the nest, they waddled and nodded, and hissed, after a fashion very trying to the ears of their fostermother. A sort of skirmish ensued, which terminated in the three nestlings flying to the ground, and then running to join their brother on the lake.

The grief of the buzzard knew no bounds; she hovered over the water in pursuit of the fugitives, uttering cries of such unmistakeable despair and maternal agony, that After more than I felt deeply moved at hearing them. an hour had elapsed, passed thus in a vain, supplicating struggle, she fell exhausted into the lake, close by her ungrateful nurslings, who began carelessly to peck the plumage of her who had perished for their sake.

Without hesitation, I plunged into the water, and seized the body of the unfortunate bird, which was floating amongst the rushes, and afterwards, at my leisure, prepared it for my museum.

Meantime, the goose in the poultry-yard had carefully
hatched the buzzard's eggs, and tended the young ones
One fine morning I saw
as if they had been her own.
her come out of her nest, followed by four little buzzards,
covered with whitish down, and from whose large,
yellow beaks, issued cries significant of an excellent
appetite.

Waddling along, and nodding in all the conscious pride
of maternity, mother goose reached the lake, and invited
her offspring to share the pleasures of the bath. The
buzzards did not obey the call,-first, because they did not
understand it, and secondly, because their tottering legs
were yet unable to sustain the disproportioned weight of
their unwieldy bodies.

At length the goose, impatient at finding her summons disregarded, left the water, approached the brood, and began to stir them up with her bill. They cried loudly enough, but made no attempt to walk.

Thereupon the aquatic bird examined them closely, and suddenly the truth seemed to flash on her that they were not her own, but that she had been the victim of a

She rushed on the poor little creatures, struck them with her broad bill, trampled them with her broad webbed feet, and, seizing them one by one, threw them into the lake and drowned thein.

This tragical act of vengeance completed, the goose began to sail about the pond, raising her head and arching her neck, just as if she wanted to be taken for a swan. In her progress, she came amongst the reeds, and cleft an opening through them with her snowy breast. At the other side she caught a glimpse of a soft, yellow brood, initiated ear, signified-" We're very hungry, pray give floating on the water, and uttering cries which, to her us something to eat."

A joyful cackle was the answer given by the mother, as she thus regained her real offspring; and presently I saw her reach the bank, and lead her young ones to a grassy banquet.

I am really sorry that truth compels me thus, in desad fate of the poor, fond buzzard, and her ill-fated little fiance of all the rules of poetical justice, to record the ones, together with the undeserved prosperity of the infanticidal goose.

BUT AND BESIDES.

It would not be easy to over-estimate the importance of
Just as the most sonorous lines of Milton are
the part which some little words play in the history of
most men.
the most decisive sentences that we speak often derive
formed of simple, common-place, short Saxon words, so
if they do not escape notice altogether, seem of very
their weight from monosyllables and dissyllables, which,
secondary power. The greatest events of our existence
hang upon small words, as naturally and firmly, as our
hats and coats upon the pegs assigned for their occupa-
tion. They are (so to speak) the hooks upon which our
deeds are suspended.

"To be, or not to be?"

What a vast amount of meaning it comprehends. What
What an
What a pregnant, small sentence of little words that is!
a wide subjective and objective range it takes.
immense variety of thought and action it embraces.
Those six monosyllables are household words. They
represent a thought which is always acting in men's
minds. They are as universal as humanity itself. At
every moment of the world's history, that interrogative
has been working in some human heart, and till uncer-
tainty vanishes from the doings of the denizens of the
world, "To be, or not to be," will be always uppermost
in their minds.

And when that question does arise, what puzzling pros How seldom is a direct answer and cons it brings forth. There are such weighty arguments upon given to it. both sides, and the opposing counsel must be heard. 'Hear both sides" is a sentence which appeals to the instinctive feelings of the mind. Justice would be very imperfectly personated without her balance, and that would lose all its value if but one scale depended from it. And so, when anything is to be decided on, there must be reasons for and against it, and these reasons must be heralded, introduced, and represented by appropriate forms of expression.

This is the duty of those two doughty, verbal warriors, "But and Besides," which act a distinguished part in all controversies. Wherever there is a dispute, they are Isure to be present; wherever a doubt comes in, there they straightway make their appearance; and wherever a shade of uncertainty lingers, they claim to be heard, in order either to clear it away or make it darker. Sometimes they are negative, sometimes positive, and sometimes neuter; sometimes they support principle, and sometimes they back up expediency. They are sworn friends, echoing each other, and advocate or oppose on