tact for four months, should at least be companionable. I cannot conceive any situation in life more favourable to the exposure of real characters and dispositions than a long voyage. Assumed manners of refinement, counterfeit blandness and courtesy, and, in fact, every species and form of affectation, are insensibly forgotten. Those who are really ill-tempered, find so much for their humour to feed on, that the surly countenance remains uncontradicted by the soft and obsequious manner; the truly vulgar are too much engrossed by dear self to seek the favour of others by pretended refinement; and the harmless little arts of " pretty virginities," finding how vain is the hope of stimulating to admiration beings whose every faculty and thought are engrossed by their own petty distresses, are fain to reserve their efforts for a more favourable season. But when all the counterfeits have lost their gilding, the true metal is the precious coin still; and how valuable in so narrow a circle is unfeigned good-temper, and that only true politeness which springs from kindness of heart, none will perfectly understand who have not had specimens of both kinds in their " compagnons de voyage." We were fortunate in being able to select a very pleasant circle from the small community on board, as one by one they shook off the prevalent indisposition, and reduced their unhappy, pale, elongated faces to their wonted fair proportions. When I came on deck on the 8th day of our voyage, I found we were running along the Devonshire coast before a light breeze, under as bright a blue sky as ever made England look thrice lovely in the eyes of those who were leaving her, perhaps for ever. Many vessels which, like ourselves, had been detained by the adverse winds, were now in sight, their white wing-like sails fairly spread, and taking all advantage of the welcome change. Sea-gulls swept majestically by, their arched and outspread wings glancing brightly in the sunlight, and their easy, graceful motion seeming a scornful reproach to the unsteady awkward movements of such novices at sea as myself. As we neared Plymouth, where we had to put in for some passengers, a pilot came on board, and the careless yet secure activity with which he sprang from his boat up the ship's side and on deck seemed worthy of Ducrow himself, unable as I was to go three steps without holding on by something. I felt quite a respect for that bronzed weather-beaten seaman, as I thought of the inestimable services he and his fellows, 'the Channel pilots, render both to our own and foreign shipping. In rough or foggy weather, when vessels ignorant of the difficult navigation of the Channel would, but for their guidance, be inevitably lost, they are out in their boats braving such seas, that it does seem almost miraculous such mere boats can live in them. But however stormy the weather or dark the night, there are the pilots ready at the known signal to run alongside and leap upon the stranger's deck. They are most brave and gallant fellows, and many a good ship owes to them the lives of her crew and the safety of her rich freight. We entered Plymouth Sound in the evening, and for the last time watched the sun set on English hills and woods. I felt as if to set foot on land only for a few minutes would be the greatest imaginable treat; but we cast anchor so late, that I was compelled to forego the pleasure, and sat on deck watching the boats as they went ashore, thinking their passengers must be almost too happy. A late repast of fresh bread, clean, landmade bread, fresh butter, strawberries, and clouted cream, however, almost consoled me for my previous disappointment. A lucky mortal, permitted to taste the ambrosia of the Gods, would not find it half so delicious as would a poor sea-sick creature, a victim to the unknown atrocious compounds of a dirty black seasteward, think such a feast as mine! We were up and on deck early the following morning, unwill ing to lose a minute's view of the beautiful scenery around. A man-of-war, the Hercules, lying in the harbour, sent a boat to reconnoitre our crew, greatly to the discomfort and apprehension of our captain, but fortunately without depriving him of any "hands." I listened to the morning music on board the Hercules, and thought that our grand national air, "Rule Britannia," much as I ever admired it, never sounded so beautiful as then; and I wept to think I should perhaps never more hear it in my own beloved native land. We weighed anchor between six and seven o'clock, and in passing the Hercules made a polite nautical salutation, by lowering our royals (an obeisance always expected by ships of war from the humbler body of merchantmen); and the officer on duty ordered the band aft to give us a cheering and melodious farewell as we left the harbour. We had a fine view for some time of the lovely shores of Devon, and of that noble effort of human science and perseverance, the Eddystone Lighthouse. How mean and contemptible, beside such a fabric, erected for so great and good a purpose, seem by comparison the mere gewgaw palaces of luxury and ostentation, so profusely scattered over our fair country! and yet how few, how very few erections of a like kind are there, inestimable as is their value in the saving of human life, to say nothing of less precious matters!* A short time before sunset I went below, intending to return on deck and watch the last land fade on the horizon, but on my coming to look for it, an envious bank of clouds hung over the spot, and totally hid it. Some one began singing, "Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!"-had they felt half as much as I did, they could not have uttered a single note. *Why was not the "Nelson Monument" a Lighthouse? I can conceive no fabric of more grandeur and costliness half so acceptable to the spirit it is designed to honour, as the humblest erection devoted to such a service. CHAPTER II. Bay of Biscay-Spanish Coast-Employment the best preventive of Ennui— Phosphorescence of the Sea-Portuguese Men-of-War-Swallows-Teneriffe Speaking the Cherub-Fear of Pirates-Porpoises-Flying-Fish -Capture of a Boneto-Dolphins. -- WE were now fairly "at sea," with no chance of any pleasant variety of scene, as, unluckily for us, our "good ship Argo" was to make a direct passage to Sydney, without touching at any intermediate port. Like true philosophers, we consoled ourselves by the reflection that, as some compensation for the disappointment, our voyage would be the more speedy from having no interruption; though to sail half round the world, and be near so many interesting and beautiful spots, of which I had heard and read so much, and not to see even one of them—not Madeira, with its vine-clad hills-nor Teneriffe, nor even the Cape, that general "half-way house" for poor exiles like ourselves—certainly appeared rather hard, and, as I considered it, great waste of time and travelling. The Bay of Biscay, so renowned in song and story for its stormy winds and waves, was happily in a most pacific mood when we crossed it with a fair light breeze and sunny weather; and though the fine old song was often quoted at the time, we 'had no disastrous consequences to remind us "Of the day In the Bay of Biscay O!" We "sighted" the Spanish and Portuguese coasts, and with glasses could discern trees and white houses or cottages; and as wishful imagination converted every green thing into an orangery or a vineyard, our distant gazes made us still more anxious for a nearer investigation of the good things we fancied there. But the inexorable ship sailed on, and hills, vineyards, and cottages faded into mist again. I passed every day on deck, busy with that most pleasant of all "fancy-work," wool embroidery; and to it I owe my exemption from much of the overpowering ennui so general on a long voyage. To study is, I think, impossible, and I very soon disposed of all the light reading to be found on board, when compelled by illness or bad weather to remain below. But my work-basket and frame were my daily companions, and I was often told how enviable was my happiness in having something to employ me. Many evenings we spent in watching the beautiful phosphoric appearance of the sea after dark, and trying to reconcile the various theories advanced by naturalists respecting it. That it is caused by floating animalcula is the general opinion; but if so, they must be as innumerable as motes in the sunshine, or as grains of sand upon the sea-shore, else how are the myriad millions of glittering lights to be accounted for that sparkle in a single wave? Some are much larger and brighter than the rest, bearing about the same proportion to each other as do stars of the first and sixth magnitude, and these larger points may, by close watching, be traced for several seconds, whilst the smaller ones flash and disappear simultaneously. I know of nothing to which I can compare this most beautiful and wonderful appearance, unless I have recourse to Sindbad's Diamond Valley, and beg you to fancy millions of millions of jewel-sparks, and a few thousands of larger brilliants, all rapidly whirling and glancing in one vivid glittering mass: but even diamonds would not shine alone in a dark night, so that simile will not do. The bright creatures—if creatures they are-do not seem to extend far down into the sea, because I have observed, in looking over the stern, that immediately following the rudder there always remained a small dark space beyond which the separated waves full of lights united again, and formed a long bright pathway on the water in the wake of the ship. The phosphoric lights seemed roused to life by the passage of the vessel through them; a fish swimming past produced the same effect on a smaller scale; a bucket of water from the brightest part lost all the glittering appearance almost instantly when hoisted on deck. The colour of the lights was bluish, or just what a purely white light would be, seen through the blue water. Perhaps the spray of a "jet d'eau," seen in a strong moonlight, would give the best idea of this most |