Overawed

His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought."

But it was only for a moment.

IX. 478.

The speech of Satan to Eve whereby he induces her to eat of the tree of knowledge is a masterpiece of subtle flattery, cunning suggestion, and bold insinuation. But I must hasten to the scene in which Satan finds the just reward of his self-degradation and wickedness. On returning to Hell he finds that his offspring, Sin and Death, have built

"Over the foaming deep high arch'd, a bridge

Of length prodigious,"

X. 300,

forming "a passage broad, smooth, easy, inoffensive" between Earth and Hell, and they having congratulated him on "the mortal change on earth" which they had "snuff'd" from afar, and he them that they "So near heaven's door

Triumphal with triumphal act, have met

With this glorious work, and made one realm
Hell and this world, one realm, one continent

he descends through darkness to his associate powers, them to " acquaint with these successes and with them rejoice." Passing

"Through the midst unmark'd,

In show plebeian angel militant

Of lowest order,"

he mounts "invisible his high throne," and sitting for a while, "round about him saw unseen." Then having revealed himself and been received with loud acclaim, he proceeds to tell of the perils he has encountered, the difficulties he has overcome, and the deeds he has achieved, and adds, "What remains, ye gods,

But up and enter now into full bliss?

So having said, a while he stood, expecting
Their universal shout and high applause
To fill his ear: when, contrary, he hears
On all sides, from innumerable tongues,
A dismal, universal hiss, the sound
Of public scorn; he wonder'd, but not long
Had leisure; wondering at himself now more ;
His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare,
His arms clung to his ribs, his legs entwining
Each other, till supplanted down he fell
A monstrous serpent on his belly prone
Reluctant, but in vain; a greater power

Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinn'd."

X. 516.

D. W. S.

A SUMMER SONG.

COME, O maiden mine, array thee;
Come, and let us hence, I pray thee,
To some shaded sylvan grot;
Where, beneath the bowery branches,
We our spirits may enfranchise,
World forgetting and forgot.

Else beside the placid waters,
Where the sedge-bird hath his quarters,
And the white-lipped lilies hide;
Our sauntering feet shall measure
Stolen periods of pleasure

From the gloaming eventide.

Or upon the breezy mountain
We will watch the sun, the fountain
Of terrestrial delight;

Solace earth with parting blisses,
As I would thy cheeks with kisses,
Ere night shuts thee from my sight.

Hie then, sweetheart, and array thee;
Haste, and let us forth, I pray thee,

To some more congenial spot, Where, with steadfast soul and tender, I may love's fond homage render, World forgetting and forgot.

C.

ON THE ATLANTIC.

"The sea! the sea! the open sea!

The blue, the fresh, the ever free."

TALES of the sea have been told so often and so well that the present writer fears that his mild gossip will prove unattractive; and the utmost he can hope to accomplish will be to give those who have never been to sea a kind of general notion of what they may reasonably expect when they venture to cross the ocean.

In the month of February last, in company with a brother member of the C.L.A., I left Liverpool for New York. Our hearts were light, and the evening was fine, as a numerous and happy-looking company assembled for dinner in the saloon; so we thought we might take the fairness of our start to be a favourable omen of a good time to come.

By ten o'clock on the following morning, after a very pleasant run, we reached Queenstown harbour, where we were informed that, owing to a delay on the part of the Post Office authorities, we should have to remain several hours, and cabin passengers would have the privilege of going ashore. In company with many others we went by rail to Cork, and the appearance of that city greatly disappointed us; for we found the principal thoroughfare, St. Patrick Street, to be a mean, crooked lane, with scarcely a fine building in it. The chief object of interest was a statue to Father Mathew, erected (as the inscription says) "by his admiring and grateful countrymen;" and the Corkers show their admiration and prove their gratitude in true Irish fashion, by supporting more public houses to the square inch than any other town in the kingdom. On returning to Queenstown we found that the Holyhead mail had been delayed by bad weather, but eventually the letter bags arrived and we again went on board the ship.

We now settle down to seafaring life in real earnest, and in a few minutes we hear the gong which summons us to dinner. Racks are placed upon the table to keep the plates and dishes secure, and a seat is assigned to each passenger for the entire voyage. Having no business of my own to attend to, I naturally begin to interest myself in that of my neighbours, with whom I get into conversation without delay. This

quiet little lady on my left, a wee bit body frae Aberdeen awa', tells me that she is going to New York to meet her husband, whom she has not seen for two years; and she will now enjoy his society but for three short weeks, when she will return to Aberdeen and not meet him again for twelve months. He will then have gained his captaincy and be able to take her with him for an occasional trip. Ponder on this, ye married ladies who complain of want of attention when your husbands "go to lodge" more than three nights in a week. Next this lady sits another little Scotchwoman, wiry as a greyhound, and a capital sailor, who is returning with her husband to San Francisco. They have prospered in life, and have been on a visit to their native land. The husband complains bitterly that his countrymen had treated him coldly. Knowing something of the keenness of Scotch economy, I suggest that perhaps they feared he would sponge upon them. "Such was not the case," he replied, "for I was willing to pay for everything for everybody; but, with one or two exceptions, they seemed jealous and envious because I had gone out into the world and had done well, while they had stayed at home on five and twenty shillings a week as I left them." This Scotchman proved to be a very worthy, unassuming fellow, and I felt sorry that his schoolmates and the friends of his youth should be so eaten up with

"Base envy that withers at another's joy,

And hates the excellence it cannot reach."

At the head of the table sits the captain, a tall young fellow of two and thirty, who has but one weakness-he fancies he can make a salad; and he usually succeeds in producing a nasty, messy, villainous compound, which, if many of the passengers were not already sick, would speedily make them so. The captain stays not long at table, for he is devoted to his duty, and he fully justifies the wisdom of the shipowners in appointing so young a man to so important an office. At the captain's right is a handsome young widow; she is merry, buxom, and gay, with a black and a rolling eye, and she exhibits the finest set of unartificial teeth that have ever been seen. How sad it is to think that she, who even now is the embodiment of hearty mirth and good temper, will soon be lying low, with heaving breast and diaphragm convulsed, unhappy in the consciousness that she now realises, for the first time, why basins were invented.

Sea-sickness is the foul fiend which vexes those who go down to the sea in ships. Such of us as possess well-balanced minds have also well-regulated stomachs; and we enjoy an immunity from the great evil of the day, which, to some extent, bears out the Chinese theory that the stomach is the seat of the intellect; but the great majority succumb to this distressing malady, and vacant seats at table are more and more conspicuous. But sea-sickness is not an unmixed evil, for, without doubt, it tends to check the number of those who travel in ships, and there is much truth in the remark of Judge Haliburton that "If it warn't for sea-sickness there would be no such thing as travellin' by water, there would be such a mob of mothers, aunts, daughters, nieces, and

little ones, and so many politicians, tourists, spekilators, and idlers, there would be no room to eat, drink, walk, or sleep."

Our bed-room, or state-room as it is termed, is a snug little apartment of about ten feet square, and it contains two berths, with space underneath each to accommodate a trunk. As we lie in bed we hear the wind howl and the timbers creak, and as the ship begins to roll we also begin to roll-on to the floor. When I awake in the morning I fear that my friend has, to use an Americanism, suicided; but I rejoice to find that he has merely invented an ingenious arrangement of straps to prevent himself from tumbling out of bed. 'Tis time to rise, and from his berth he doth emerge with crab-like motion. At length he stands erect, with feet and ancles glancing bare, and clad in snowy robe of night; he bounds from side to side, and back again, with swift increasing speed. I laugh, but laugh not long, for with a lofty caper he concludes in playful fashion, by plunging deep his head in my unshielded bosom. Bereft of breath, I scarce can gasp a murmur.

We take a constitutional on deck, and then to breakfast. After breakfast we assemble in the smoke room, where a little game of speculation takes place on the run of the boat, which is posted at noon each day. Perhaps thirty members subscribe five shillings each, and the numbers are ballotted and afterwards sold. A shrewd American gentleman officiates as auctioneer, and by his wit and cleverness produces great amusement. Half the purchase-money goes to the owner of the number, and half to the pool. When the number of miles run is posted by the captain, the fortunate possessor of the correct number, or the nearest thereto, is declared to be the winner, and takes possession of the contents of the pool. This system of selling pools obtains great favour with the speculative Americans; that is, with all our fellow-passengers, for they are all Americans, and all are speculative. The greater part of them are buyers, either on their own account or for employers, who have been to England and the Continent of Europe to purchase goods. for the Spring trade. A very intelligent, jovial set they are; and as the weather grows worse and worse, and exercise on deck becomes difficult or impossible, one of them determines to exercise his abilities on the production of a new drink. The Americans are great in mixed drinks with queer names, and the New Yorker who has undertaken to invent a new beverage at length produces the same, and entitles it "The Maiden's Dream." This delectable compound consists of various sweet and choice ingredients, all blended together on a smooth gin basis, and it is pronounced by connoisseurs to be an inspiration. I was not a little amused to hear an enthusiastic drinker shout, ever and anon, "Say, steward, I guess I'll have a dream."

Bad weather still continues, and many are the devices resorted to to wile away the time. Some play at chess, others at chequers, while some join in a friendly rubber. The piano is silent, and the voices of the singers are not heard, for the ladies are in strict retirement, and the rolling of the ship does not conduce to harmony. The library is ransacked for books, but reading is of a desultory kind, and study is