deliverer. Everything was done to aid them that human power could effect; but a severe gale and a boisterous sea retarded the necessary manœuvres, thus augmenting to torture the painful anxiety which all felt in the fate of their comrades. The seaman disappeared; but the lieutenant continued courageously buffeting the raging waves. "How nobly that young man behaves!" said the veteran admiral, still not knowing that he was eulogising his son; for no one had the heart to tell him that truth. The words had been scarcely uttered, when an albatross, descending swiftly, struck its beak into the bare head of the unfortunate swimmer, who immediately sunk to rise no more. More numerous than the albatross, more particular in their attentions to the ship, and not much inferior in size, are the molly-hawks.-(Our ornithological terms are derived from the sailors' vocabulary.) The confidence they seem to repose in us, by hovering so closely round the vessel, begets a feeling of attachment to them. Their snowy breasts, prettily speckled wings, and graceful motions, also attract our regard, and distinguish them markedly from the heavy bister coloured and more numerous Cape hens, which so indefatigably examine and devour all refuse in our wake. The pretty Cape pigeons continue our assiduous companions; and Mother Carey's chickens, having long deserted the farm-yard of the mythical dame, are dancing amid the foam that marks our tract. Such names may lead some to suppose that we have an abundant supply of poultry, but we are sorry that truth compels us to undeceive them, for the likeness of these birds to their namesakes-like many other marine pleasures-only exists in the imagination. It is a bitter fancy that of seamen, naming objects, often the most dissimilar, after those they most covet. It is the imaginary feast of the Bermicide, devoured in vexation and without hope of a material recompense. Last in our list of companions, but not the least remarkable, is the whale bird, so called from the belief that its presence marks the situation of the sea-giant. It is a small bird, with narrow pointed wings, and is never seen but in rapid flight, as if pursuing or pursued. Apparently regardless of the vessel which it coyly circles round, it is only observed indistinctly-never close to-skimming the surface of the waves, into which its pale blue colour, like a falling snow-flake, seems often to disappear. Sometimes a stranger pays us a temporary visit, but the preceding are our only constant attendants. They relieve the weariness of this wide desert ocean, and are almost the only signs of life that meet our view. It is rarely that any of the cetacea are observed, and we have long left the region of nautilus, flying-fish, and dolphin. There is nothing, then, to distract our minds from objects of paramount importance-those of education. It is a source of great pleasure to us to observe the progress that has been made, perceiving in it a certain prognostic of future good. A few weeks of our voyage still remain for us, which it becomes us to take advantage of by unremitting application, that no regrets of misspent time may hereafter weigh upon our consciences. D. R. No. X.-JUNE 30, 1852. Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let us then be up and doing, LAW NOT JUSTICE-A PRISON TALE. JACK BOLINE was a hardy old sailor, who had spent the best portion of his life exposed to the dangers and vicissitudes of his perilous calling. Thin iron grey locks fell like a transparent curtain, softening the deep furrows which time and exposure to weather and climate had written in broad characters on that benevolent countenance, the massiveness of the outline of which indicated a soul within, calm in its self-integrity, and placid as those deep grey eyes that revealed its inner workings. The storms of life, and the frequent presence of death in its most appalling forms, had taught him the practical philosophy of living so as to be ever ready to die, and the necessity of leaning for moral support upon that Mighty Arm, which he recognised ever stretched out to rule and save, whether in sunshine or gloom, whether in calm or tempest. From his hard won earnings, at the termination of each voyage, he had been in the habit of placing all his little savings in the hands of the jolly landlord of the "Travellers' Welcome" at Shadwell. Jack, ignorant of business methods, and trusting implicitly in the honesty of his banker, had never asked for, and never received any written acknowledgments of his deposits. With a brother's love, and more than a brother's reliance, he embraced, on each return, "mine hilarious host," and abandoned himself to the quiet luxury of a social home, a pleasure never known at sea. The sensual eyes of old Boniface twinkled with delight through a watery medium, and lumpish masses of surrounding fat, when he beheld a victim entering his door; but when he saw old Jack Boline return with his well filled purse, they expressed a cordial welcome, that seemed rather the result of devoted friendship than the gloating regard of selfishness. A profound chuckle vibrated through the intricacies of that voluminous paunch, and a crooked smile wreathed with elephantine grace those heavy cheeks and thick lips (rendering him almost attractive, even to one accustomed to read the heart through the lineaments), which, with his oily manners, were perfectly entrancing to poor old Jack, accustomed to the coarse oath and churlish behaviour of his comrades. Rheumatism, and warnings of the approaching failings of age, rendered it wise for the old man to resign his rough and laborious calling. This he felt he was in a situation to do without incurring destitution, having, as he believed, accumulated L.150 in the hands of his friend, -a sum large enough, if properly invested, to put him in a position in which he could earn a quiet and comfortable livelihood. He felt still a lingering regard for that life in which he had spent the heyday of youth and the vigour of manhood. Nothing pleased him so much as watching the movements of the amphibious population which crowds the Thames. It seemed the principal object of his life, and was pursued from day to day with unremitting patience. A thousand schemes for the employment of his little capital were suggested by the numerous objects which met his view; but they all gave place to the idea of buying a little fishing smack, of which he would be captain a position which had been always the apex of all his hopes. Scarcely had this resolution been formed when his attention was attracted by a perfect beauty; he was charmed by the elegance of her form, and longed for the happy moment when he could call her his own. As she was to be sold at a price adapted to his means, the purchase-money was soon agreed upon, and the buyer and seller proceeded to the "Travellers' Welcome" to conclude the transfer. Jack, in leading his companion into the snug little parlour where he had passed so many happy evenings with his pipe and pot, smiled complacently to the landlord, and requested his company to discuss an unusual jorum, which was required to drink success to the "Skylark." Jack's impatience was, however, excited by finding that his request was not complied with, and after some delay he proceeded to ascertain the cause of his disappointment. The landlord was apparently busy arranging his bottles, when his attention was arrested by a hand laid softly on his shoulder. "I have bought," said Jack, "a pretty little smack for L.85, and as the seller is here, I want that sum out of my money in your hands for the purpose of paying him." |