Hurrah again!-stretch out bravely, my lads! Keep your hands and skulls in vigorous play, and never miss a single stroke that you can make dance tell. Once more hurrah! and pull heartily together, so that we may gallantly over the waters, though the sprays of human sympathy may sometimes darken the eyes. Our thwarts shall be merry thoughts, and our sheets, though stern sheets, shall provoke to laughter. What our cargo will be remains to be seen, but much of it will accord with the Yankee entry of " NOTIONS." There shall be no lack of "tough yarns,” we have plenty of tale" blocks," and a few cases of "choice spirits" down in the "run"-portraits of smart beaux for ladies to wear in their hearts, and belles which gentlemen may ring when they please-pictures of life, past and present-rough and smooth-ups and downs-now a gale then a calm—fair winds in the morning and foul in the afternoon-pleasant breezes and sunshine at daylight, but frowning and squally at night. But avast! my old and worthy friend, Ned Duncan, sings an excellent song, which exactly suits my view of the thing; and though neither new nor original, yet pleading in extenuation the admirable sentiments conveyed, I am sure I shall be pardoned for closing my introduction with it here:

SONG.

"OH! life is the ocean, and man is the boat,
That over its surface is destin'd to float;

And joy is a cargo so easily stor'd,

That he is a fool who takes sorrow on board.
We all have a taste of the ups and the downs,
As Fortune dispenses her smiles and her frowns :
But may we not hope, if she's frowning to-day,
That to-morrow she'll lend us the light of her ray.

"I would not that man without caution should steer,
'Mid the quicksands-the rocks-that encircle him here;
Be honour his compass-the needle his mind;

Let him keep to truth's course, and dull care leave behind;
There's plenty of sunshine, then why choose the shade,
Half the clouds that come o'er us our own fears have made;
We may go right a-head into joy's smiling bay!
Why run from our course to meet trouble half way.

"Would summer be priz'd for its fruits and its flowers,

If winter ne'er follow'd with storms, snow, and showers;

And do not the brightest of pleasures appear

Still brighter when checkered by moments of care?

I ask not for gold-are there virtues in wealth
So dear to the heart as contentment and health?
Oh! give me but these, nought can add to my store;
Without them-though riches are mine-I am poor."

Hurrah, then, for my JOLLY BOAT.-Off she goes.

THE OLD SAILOR.

TO MAY.

BEAUTIFUL Month! thou art come once more,
Over the threshold of summer's door;
And we welcome thee forth, in thy bright array,
As dear to our hearts-sweet smiling May.
Earth blooms with delight in thy sun and showers,
As thou scatterest round thee a thousand flowers,
From which the breezes, with eager will,
In the silence of night their censers fill,
And swinging them round thy brow so fair,
With odorous incense fill the air;
Whilst nature exulting, in rich display,
Is calling thee" foster sister "-May.

I love to look in the calm clear night

At thy silver moon with its full orb'd light,
When the stars of heaven, like lamps on high,
Spangle the arch of the azure sky;

Whilst dazzling gems from their glist'ning beams
Sparkle and dance on the rippling streams.
And oh how dearly I love to feel

The glow from thy sun o'er my senses steal;
Filling the soul with a joyous mood
Of rich harmonious gratitude-
Lifting the spirit, with all its care,

To the blissful realms of praise and prayer,
Where angels worship, and prostrate fall,
Before His throne who created all.

I love the breath of thy gentle gales,
With perfum'd fragrance filling my sails,
Like winds from off the cinnamon isle,
That gladden the heart and make it smile;
Or light-wing'd zephyrs, that warmly blow
Over the groves where the spices grow;
And whilst I gaze on thy glorious mien,
Thy days so calm, and thy nights serene;
I sing with pleasure that swells my breast,
Of all the twelve months I love thee best!

M. H. B.

It was soon after the eventful period in the French Revolution, when the sanguinary monsters in power sacrificed every principle of religion on the altar reared by their own depravity and licentiousness, that the opulent city of Bruges decreed the sacred festival next approaching should be commemorated with the utmost pomp and magnificence, in honour of the great DEITY whose services had been desecrated and denounced by the Jacobins of Paris. And a truly splendid spectacle it was, as the procession, composed of several thousands of the inhabitants, proceeded to the Church of Notre Dame, to testify their adherence to the faith that was in them. There were the priesthood, in their gorgeous vestments, pouring forth their solemn chaunts, as they swung their golden censers to the breeze, dispensing a rich fragrance upon all around-there were the authorities of the city in their robes of office, with bands of music and flashing banners-there were the citizens, arrayed in their best attire, and redolent of nosegays-there was age and childhood-high and low-rich and poor : the craftsmen, with their costly emblems, and the guilds with their official staves-figures of the saints and martyrs, in perfect mimicry of life and death, drawn upon platformed carriages, tastefully decorated; and there were the English soldiery, mingled with those of Hanover, Belgium, and Prussia, in the varied uniforms of their country, in full military array, with colours and music to do honour to the occasion. But the most pleasing part of the long line of order was formed of two hundred young females, from the age of four years to sixteen, all dressed alike in white muslin, with long flowing sashes, and a chaplet of dwarf roses, on white satin, round the head. These had been selected from the most respectable families, and presented an assemblage of loveliness that has seldom been surpassed-a resplendent display of youth and beauty, heightened by devotion.

It was the early morning of a splendid day, and there was a delicious freshness in the air that tempered the warm and cheering rays of the glorious sun-the heart expanded with benevolence in generous resolves—

distinctions in rank were lost in the bond of nature's brotherhood-it was indeed a fitting season in which to offer fervent adoration to the Great Creator of all things. High mass was celebrated in all the churches with more than usual solemnity-the clergy vied with each other in manifestations of religious fervour, and the festival closed with public rejoicings, suitable to the sacred character of the declarations that had been made before the altar of the Supreme.

I have mentioned the train of young females that formed a part of the procession, and now I must single out one from the rest, as more immediately connected with the narrative I am about to relate. Jeanette Berghaume, then advancing to her fourteenth birth-day, was the fairest and prettiest of the whole: her clear complexion, her large dark blue eyes, full of affectionate expression-her finely rounded shoulders, over which clustered in profusion her light silken hair-her perfectly moulded frame-her graceful figure-all these combined to render her an object for admiration and applause, as with a sweet smile upon her bloom-touched cheeks, she moved silently along amongst the pleased spectators, who could not refrain from expressing their approval; and from that hour the fair girl became a popular favourite, and was always spoken of in terms of warm regard.

The father of Jeanette was extensively engaged in the linen trade, her mother had a large establishment as a milliner and dressmaker, and both were highly esteemed and respected for the probity and uprightness of their character. They gave their daughter (and she was an only child) the best education the city could afford, which, combined with her own natural talent and quickness of perception, rendered her more intelligent than most young females of her age; whilst her sweetness of disposition, and gentleness of temper, endeared her to every one.

But ruthless war was spreading its baneful influences in the Netherlands-treachery, selfish ambition, inertness, and dissensions, were busily undermining the cause of the allies. Prussia, whilst receiving subsidies from England, was secretly negociating a dishonourable peace with republican France Germany was aiming at aggrandisement in territory— whilst England, possessing ample resources to crush the revolution between its army in the north and its forces in the south, pursued a tardy and vacillating course, unworthy of a great and powerful nation. Had a bold masterly policy been then promptly acted upon, millions of lives might have been spared, and £600,000,000 of the heavy debt which now overwhelms the industry of our country would most probably never have been contracted.

As it was, the allies were compelled to retreat, leaving Bruges to its fate; and it was soon occupied by republican troops, whose atrocities, by

way of revenge, were horribly fearful and cruel; for the officers, having been principally raised from the ranks by the choice of the privates themselves, held but little control over the actions of their subordinates, especially as in most instances the superiors shared the plunder of the men, and but too often set them disgraceful examples of oppression and debauchery.

The terror of the inhabitants was extreme; a fine of four millions of francs was levied on the citizens in which the religious festival was not forgotten, for the clergy were decreed to pay two millions, and the authorities one million of the whole. The work of devastation and slaughter was unceasing, and none felt it more than Johannes Berghaume, his warehouses were plundered and destroyed, heavy exactions were constantly imposed upon him; and as he had manifested more than ordinary zeal in the cause of the royalists, he had but too much reason to fear that his life would be sacrificed to the implacable enmity of the revolutionary leaders. Flight, therefore, was his only alternative; but the proposal, when made to him, was sternly rejected-nor was it, till repeatedly urged by his family and friends, that he reluctantly gave his consent, and took his departure, leaving his wife and daughter to make the most of the remaining effects, promising to inform them, as early as practicable, of his circumstances and locality, so that at a fitting opportunity they might follow him.

Bitter, mournfully bitter, was the parting of the fond father from the home of his enjoyments; and hard indeed was the task of tearing himself away from the clinging embraces of his attached wife and darling child, whilst a sick shuddering came over his agonised spirit as he contemplated their unprotected state, amongst wretches who scoffed at the restraints which law and justice impose upon society, and sought alone the gratification of their licentious passions, utterly regardless of all appeals to virtue, honour, or humanity. Laisson-the unprincipled Laisson-was there with his ruthless myrmidons, who were ever ready to obey his sanguinary and ferocious commands. Berghaume had indeed been marked out for death, and was only indebted for the postponement of his execution to the hope which Laisson cherished, that more gold could be wrung from him, under a prospect of having his life spared-this effected, and the axe of the guillotine would soon have terminated his existence.

The establishment of Madame Berghaume had closed on the first entry of the Republicans; and she disposed of what articles she could to any purchasers, in order to secure a supply of ready money. Jeanette, terrified at the atrocities which she herself had partially witnessed, kept in the retirement of her own apartment, and never went abroad; the visiting of friends was at an end-all were too much absorbed in their