for it is produced by the passage along the iron rails of several huge caravans, drawn by horses, and accompanied by a crowd of persons. The contents of these vehicles are not, as they sometimes are, elephants, tigers, or giraffes-a royal present from some foreign potentate; nor any quadrupedal speculation of Wombwell's successors. They contain packages of letters for the outgoing mail. What is about to occur is well worth observing, so, my friend, I will bear you harmless if you will step into the steamer at which we were intently looking, and there we can avail ourselves of an opportunity which multitudes are unable to enjoy.

On deck then we are, observing the movements that are taking place on the quay-side. Just in front stands the post-master of the town, who has come hither in the discharge of his official trust. At his side are two lieutenants of the royal navy, in full costume of dark blue coats, gilt buttons, and epaulettes, with their lower integuments to match, and swords by their sides. An hour hence, you may see one of them, as he moves about his vessel, with a round hat; but now nothing less than the cocked hat will do for him and his associate, the slightest variation from etiquette not comporting with their present service as" Admiralty Agents." If we turn round for a moment, we may descry, about half way distant from Calshot Castle, the Orinoco-a noble vessel; her crew and passengers are already on board, and it only waits the completion of what these officers and their assistants are now doing, to start on another voyage. In the interval of our glance, progress has been made: a succession of leathern bags about four or five feet long, each one being made perfectly fast, has been taken by persons in attendance from the vans, and duly examined by the two naval officers. They are both provided, as you see, with a printed form and a black lead-pencil; the one ticks off a package on his paper, the mark of his delivering it in due form, while the other ticks it off on his paper, the corresponding mark of its reception.

It may just be remarked that, unlike these, the transmissions through the Post-office to the East Indies are made up in wooden boxes, about a foot deep and two feet long, each one denoting by its colour, or by the absence of it, the place of its destination. Is it red? It is for Hong Kong. Blue? For Calcutta. White? For Bombay. Black? It is for Ceylon.

And now, the leathern packages, as they are duly delivered and acknowledged, are sent down a slide into our little steamer, to be heaped up, for their brief transit, on its deck. Affixed to each bag, you perceive there is a thin brass plate about the size of a dollar, and on it is engraved the name of the place to which it is consigned, as St. Thomas, Jamaica, Demerara, Barbadoes, Chagres, Tobago, and St. Nevis. The sight may well awaken various emotions. There is the letter of the widowed mother to her only son, the staff of her declining years of the young wife to her husband, from whom, notwithstanding all their affection, she must be separated-of the brother to his sister, whose marriage tore her from his fond embrace and of the child who has for the first time written a note "to dear, dear papa;" but we cannot particularize. What boundings of joy, what

heart-thrillings of agony, are pent up within the foldings of those varied missives!

But see the packages are coming down the shoot more rapidly than before, for people generally quicken as they proceed in their labours; and a new process is also taking place; some larger packages are being opened, and each one contains a bundle of smaller packages, like what children call the magician's box, which is only the outer case of two or three dozen others within it. Each one of these cases has to be transferred and accepted like a bill of exchange, with the same degree of scrupulously official attention that is paid to a larger package; some of the more minute being perhaps of far greater pecuniary value than the larger; just as the little ensign of her Majesty's-th guards is superior, in this respect, to the tall grenadier who stands at the head of his company. The process of sending down the pack. ages at length slackens; and if you will look at the side of the near paddle-box, you will see the last lot handed down from the wharf: it is a box, containing a cocked hat, a writing-desk, and, not to be too prying, various et ceteras, which are indispensable to the Admiralty agent, about to "tick off" his last package, and to come on board our steamer.

Here, then, he is; but you need not be disconcerted; I have permission for us to accompany the vessel, and to observe what yet remains to be done. Several persons are now added to those already on board: they are chiefly relatives or friends of the passengers by the Orinoco, proceeding to her on some matter of business, or it may be to take the last look-to utter the last parting words-or to give the last affectionate grasp of the hand, should the conflict of emotion struggling within forbid the tongue to become vocal. A few moments suffice for casting off the ropes; again the steamengine is at work, as the ear attests, the head of the vessel swings round to the right, and we are now moving upon the waters.

Smoothly as a boat over the surface of a river, does our little vessel glide along. Before us is the port of Southampton; to the right the village of Itchen appears on rising ground, with its floatingbridge, which has long succeeded the ancient ferryboat; and along that border of the Southampton water, lies the paths which, if traversed for about three miles, will bring the pedestrian to the farfamed ruins of Netley Abbey. But let us now turn round, and gaze on what may appear on the opposite side. There is our splendid vessel the Orinoco, every moment enlarging on the field of vision. It is the second ship of the New West India line, resembling in size and some other respects the Amazon, whose fate wrung many a heart with agony, and excited a lively and gener ous sympathy for the widows and orphans of the lost in the bosom of multitudes, from the sovereign of England, whose purse-strings are so often undrawn for the wretched, down to those of her subjects of so lowly a rank, that a shilling from their hand is a splendid offering at the shrine of benevolence.

What a length does the Orinoco appear! How lofty is her rig! What a spread of canvass will there be, when all her sails are set! while her low funnels give her the appearance of a steam frigate

of the first class, rather than one of a line of merchant steamers. Admirably adapted also is she to the transmission of passengers and merchandise. Let the rover of the seas beware; for though the full ripe cherry may fall into the mouth of him who merely shakes the tree, she has twenty-six guns ready for defence, and her crew are equally so for a struggle, so that an attack may end in the punishment and capture of the aggressor. Other circumstances have also been anticipated; she is provided with four of Lamb's patent life-boats, 30 feet long, 8 feet wide, and calculated to carry 32 persons. There are also two large cutters, 27 feet long, each competent to carry 25 persons. Besides these there is a mail-boat, 22 feet long, adapted to hold 18 people, and a dingy, 17 feet long, for eight or nine more; a total provision for 234 persons, but available, it is calculated, for more than 300, should any catastrophe, which may the God of providence avert, render such an extensive refuge necessary. Our vessel is now close alongside the Orinoco. Let us climb up to it at once, making the most of the limited time we shall be allowed for its inspection. Many persons are pacing backwards and forwards on deck; packages of all shapes and sizes are carried along; here come the mail-bags in due order, to be stowed away in their proper depository; men, women, and children are eagerly rushing up from, or down to, the cabins; here ropes are being hauled, there a barrel is being rolled along; everywhere energy and activity are apparent; while the fowls are stretching their necks between the bars of their hutches, evidently bewildered, of which that subdued cluck, cluck, cluck, appears to be the expression.

Making our way along, amidst much bustle and some noise, let us notice the chief points of the Tessel. Her length between the perpendiculars is 270 feet, but from her figure-head to the taffrail it is just over 300; her breadth between the paddle-boxes is 71 feet 10 inches; her depth from the under side with her spar-deck is 32 feet and a half; and her burden in tons, according to the calculation of her builder, Mr. Pitcher of Northfleet, is about 2245. Her paddle-wheels are 40 feet in diameter. Her draft of water aft is 17 feet 9 iuches, and 17 feet 6 inches when she carries 400 tons of coal. Her crew, officers, engineers, stewards, servants, stokers, seamen, coal trimmers, and others, number 105 souls.

But we must not linger here, for there is much to be observed. Let us make a descent. Here we find the decks are high-a great improvement on old-fashioned vessels, as all acquainted with them will cordially acknowledge. Proceed ing aft, we observe the sleeping accommodations, sufficient for about a hundred and sixty passengers, neatly painted white, with gilt mouldings and ornamental glass. Their inmates, by the way, are not allowed to do as they please with the light; the gentleman cannot singe his whiskers nor the lady set fire to her muslin dress; a lamp beams upon them through ground glass, from its little nook in the deck outside, where it is perfectly secured, and may be easily moved, when not wanted. The ladies' private cabins are abaft, and we leave them to their retired enjoyment-with a hearty wish, however, for their welfare and happiness. Descending to the saloon-deck, we reach the

dining-saloon, with its mahogany tables screwed into the deck, at which a hundred and twenty persons may take dinner. Here are sixteen cabins and two fire-places, whilst the steward's cabin is fitted up with almost every conceivable convenience. The tables are already largely covered, not merely with the comforts, but the luxuries of an Englishman's board. Here and there is a little group intent on a lunch: the parties thus engaged are about to return by the steamer; while two nice little girls, who have come with one of them, just as we have done, for the trip, are regaling themselves with a queen-cake and a spoonful or two of jelly. "I am afraid you are too late to join us," says a friend, who has been similarly employed with the admiralty agents; we can only thank him for his proffered hospitalities, and hurry onwards. We go down for a moment to the orlop-deck. With a lantern to guide us along a narrow pas sage, we have on one side the bullion-cabin, and on the other the mail-rooms, lined with zinc, where all the packages taken in at Southampton, and brought hither by the steamer, are now deposited. Here, too, are rooms for the baggage of passengers-casks laden with cheeses and wine-and below is the magazine to supply the twenty-four pounders already alluded to, and small arms besides for a hundred and twenty men; so again we say, " let the rover of the seas beware!"

We go now to that surpassing wonder of power however its effect may be diminished by familiarity-which is to work the Orinoco onwards to the West. In this room are two engines, with patent double cylinders, on the direct acting principle, and with all the latest improvements. Nothing can surpass the accuracy, beauty, and finish of their workmanship. Each of the four cylinders is 68 inches in diameter, and, calculating the surface area of the pistons, they are supposed to be equal to two 98-inch cylinders, such as are applied to the ordinary marine engines. Each of the eight boilers has three furnaces, and an aggregate evaporating power of 9000 gallons of water per hour. The paddle-wheels are fitted with the patent feathering floats. The ventilation of the engine-room is well secured, and thus the close, hot, dry atmosphere of such places is effectually avoided. Here, moreover, are long, flexible gutta percha tubes, their ends dangling down, while their mouth-pieces are on the deck above. Their use is obvious: the captain has only to transmit through them his orders-the "ease her," or "stop her "-with which our ears are dinned on the Thames-for his commands to receive a sailorlike obedience. And then-mark this for thy com fort, thou lover of thy kind, carrying in thy bosom a chord that will vibrate to thy brother's joys and sorrows-the magazine is fitted in a leaden tank, and, in the event of fire, it may be instantly flooded with water issuing from a pipe leading from the spar or upper deck.

We pass now from this mammoth or megatherium of mechanics, which with all its powers may like an elephant be played with by a gentle hand, and a neat iron ladder conducts us once more into the air. But the bell has been ringing some time there is a stream towards the gangwaywe make our way into it-pass down the side

of the Orinoco, and are again in the steamer. A subdued and somewhat painful feeling soon creeps over us here, which our previous bustle alone forbade to rise, for in the crowd of which we form a part, there are some the subjects of emotions not to be described. The last farewell kiss has been given the last embrace taken-the last adieu uttered. Group after group now descends, but for the most part, the expression of countenance is either that of sorrow or of pensive endurance; you do not hear the buoyant laugh, or see the radiant smile; the persons who form those groups are strangely silent; there are tears too, manfully, womanfully striven against, lest the sufferings of others should be increased; tears which, despite of all, will however sometimes gush forth, or slowly trickle down the cheek; while some who are not torn from the living seem to sympathise with those who are. For a few moments, the influx continues, but it diminishes; next two or three appear, and at length the last enters the vessel.

Now the Orinoco is the scene of high bustle. The crew, greatly impeded in their movements before, have room for their strength, as well as strength for their room. Some rush into the shrouds to lower her canvass, while others are engaged in detaching her from her moorings. There is the buoy which has held her fast; but at last she is free; look how her head retires more and more from our view; how beautifully she swings herself round, until her bows are pointed to her onward course.

Our own vessel, meanwhile, is worked about, so that the Orinoco is seen, uninterruptedly, from stem to stern. One object now engages particular attention. A man stands on a ledge, nearly at the top of the paddle-box-happily guarded by a strong band, which he has slipped over his breast-engaged in taking the soundings of the channel. See! how skilfully he gathers up the rope-then he gives it two or three pendulum-like swings-when, whirling it over his head, he sends out the lead to an immense distance, which, being traversed by the vessel, he pulls up the lead to undergo again, again, and again, the same movements-not a little surprising to any "lubberly" landsman who looks on.

We do not wish to intrude on sorrow; but now and then the eye has fallen on some, of the rougher sex too, on board our steamer, absorbed in intense grief. They have been looking as intently as their flowing tears would allow for the last halfhour towards the head of the Orinoco, where a number of persons are crowded together, to take the last view of those in our boat. That female figure at the extreme end of the throng, with her face almost hidden, appears to be the object on which their eyes are fixed: it may be a sister, torn from them by circumstances which they cannot control-for years-for ever!

As we look, the bustle on the deck of the Orinoco appears to increase; many of the crew rush into the shrouds as if every inch of canvass were about to be spread; but they stop-standing on their ladders of rope, to the higher part of which each one clings with his left hand. Their eyes are directed towards us; an officer bares his head, and all on board join him in three successive cheers; the crew of our steamer instantly respond; and

amidst hearty aspirations for her safe and prosperous voyage-see how gallantly the Orinoco cuts her way through the waters!

We may, perhaps, appropriately wind up this paper by the following lines, copied from one of the Ladies' Pocket-books of the present year, and which, although meant for an American steamer, are almost equally applicable to the one before us. Huzza! huzza! the signal sounds, Now set her moorings free, And let the Ocean steamer dash Out boldly to the sea!

And let the Ocean steamer hie,
The broad Atlantic o'er,

To where his western billows wash
America's proud shore.

Yea, sweeps she not in majesty
Athwart that watery realm,

Whose billows, swift as passing thought,
Her form could overwhelm ?
Heaven prosper her! the noble craft;
Heaven guard her on the main!
Until she comes in safety back
To England's isle again.

Away upon her distant course,
A thousand miles from land,
She flings aloft a smoky trail,
By circling breezes fann'd,
In flaunting triumph thro' the air,
To spread o'er ocean's face
The glory of our world-famed folk,
The Anglo-Saxon race!

Her huge revolving paddle-wheels
Proclaim her wat ry way;

On each advancing wave they leave
A scar of foaming spray.
Her fires emit a steady blaze,
Unquench'd across the seas,
Which once a myst'ry lay beyond
The gates of Hercules!

This dreamy wilderness of waves
Man's enterprise hath made
A highway broad between two worlds,
The beaten track of trade.
Mechanic skill hath featly done
What science first design'd,
And lo! the Ocean steamer tells
The onward inarch of mind.

All hail! All hail! She nears the land, "Tis free Columbia's coast,

Hibernia's latest cliff she saw

A week before at most!

Now, soon, the welcome port is gain'd
Her engines drop to sleep,

Their work is done;-all tranquilly
She floats upon the deep.

What language striketh on the ear?
"Tis English ev'ry word;

Strange, that so many miles away
That good old tongue is heard!

The tongue which east, west, north and south,
To thought gives phrase and tone,
The tongue which over half the globe
Fair freedom claims her own.

Long may the stately vessel steam
Between these empire lands,
Thus help to link in friendship's bond
Our kindred hearts and hands;---
Let John Bull spare his old world pride,
And Jonathan his boast,

Still shall their ocean steamers ply
From coast to sister coast.

Renaud reached his post, there arrived by that way a party consisting of Pienaza's military secretary, a man-at-arms bearing a white flag, an esquire, and a trumpeter, with the offer of truce for a month. The fiery Provençal said it was a Romish ruse to throw them off their guard; but Gianavello had accepted it, and the council of the Pra thought it well to spare the effusion of blood for even so short a period. The secretary made them a complimentary speech on their military prowess, on the admiration his master entertained for it, and on the probability of things being settled to their satisfaction, in case they submitted themselves to their sovereign. Victor, as the Vaudois commandant, calmly answered that, next to their faith, there was nothing they valued so much as peace, and would rejoice to lay down their arms as soon as it was securely established. The secretary and his man-at-arms departed. He had left, according to military etiquette, his esquire and trumpeter at Humbert's post. The former had a partial knowledge of young Renaud, from having seen him as commandant of the bastion. He had been once a lay brother in the convent of St. Loyola in Piedmont, and what passed between them was never known; but wrath and pride are terrible masters. An hour of their domination has often wrought the ruin of a life. The sentinels on Victor's frontier wondered to see their former commandant pass with the truce-bearers, but thought he might have been sent on some message, and made their report only when relieved.

The mountain friends had suffered with their people and borne many losses; Claude's momentary fall had grieved them deeply; but for their earnest honest hearts time had brought no deeper disappointment that this. That one who had fought so bravely and seemed so true-their brother in faith, their companion in arms-should desert his betrothed wife, his aged father, his brothers, his friends, his religion! Each one could have believed it of himself as soon as of Humbert Renaud. Gaston said he "had found one son and lost another : the will of the Lord be done;" but the old man stooped lower, as if the burden of his years grew more heavy from that day. Renee said nothing except to Victor on his midnight watch; but she was found more frequently in prayer, and at the great bible. On Claude the apostacy of his brother seemed to bring a sudden and most courageous composure. He confessed his fall before the assembled congregation, a the primitive discipline of that martyr people required, with deep and sincere contrition; and declaring himself-for the present at least unworthy of preaching the truth for which he had once refused to suffer, offered to accept any post, however humble or however dangerous, which Victor might assign to him.

The Vaudois relaxed none of their military vigilance, and the truce was well observed. There was peace to come and go throughout the ruined valleys; peace to raise huts and cultivate fields all round the Pra; and, above all, peace to assemble for sabbath worship in the heart of the green valley, for the little church could not now contain their numbers. Something like the old quiet came down on their hearts; even the Provençals seemed subdued or pacified by the pious patient example of their allies, and there was hope that

they also might become true Vaudois in time: but the harvest had come, the crops had ripened around the mountain homes, and, with hymns of praise, the cottagers went up to gather their grapes and reap their corn as stores for a coming winter in the Pra. With great haste and toil were those crops gathered in, the poor people working night and day, for the truce was short. The Constants were wearied out when their last sheaf was cut and packed in the mule load for transport to the valley. The September sunset was clothing grey rock and glacier with its gold; far down the mountain paths the laden bands and mules were winding; Victor had gone to his post, for he was still commandant, but Renee and Louisin sat in their old cottage porch waiting for Gueslin, who had gone to take one last look at his mother's grave. Great silence had fallen on the Shepherd's-rest, so lately filled with the bustle of the harvest. The sisters were gazing on its sky, and rocks, and tinging trees, when they heard an approaching step, and saw a man with a long staff coming slowly down the valley. The erect spare figure, on which time and hardship seemed to have no power, was not to be mistaken, and, almost before he saw them, the girls were clinging round their uncle Joseph.

It was some minutes before any of the three could speak. To each it seemed as if the losses of life had been made up in that meeting, till the pastor at length said, "Blessed be Him who has given me to see the faces of my children once more! Is Victor well? and what of our people?" He is well, and become a great captain," cried Louisin.

Here Gueslin, having caught sight of the pastor, came running from the vineyards, and a faint flush rose on the girl's cheek as she said: Oh, uncle, he has fought bravely for us and become our brother."

"My son," said Joseph, clasping the young man to his breast, "many prayers have been fulfilled;" while Gueslin could only utter :

"Welcome! welcome! Oh that my mother had lived for this. Our neighbours," he continued, "have been gathering the harvest; they are not at the Pra yet. Shall I run and tell them?"

"No, my son," said the pastor; "the way is far, and they must be weary, as indeed I am; we will talk and rest this night in our old cottage, and go down together in the morning.'

"The truce expires this night at twelve," said Gueslin, "and Victor bade us all be within the lines."

"No one has ever come here but ourselves, nor ever will," said Louisin; "let us stay this night in the old home with uncle Joseph."

Gueslin said no more, for all were of Louisin's mind. A fire was soon kindled on the cottage hearth, a supper prepared from the last gleanings, and they sat down as in former times, with Gueslin instead of Victor. Then came inquiries and relations. The pastor told them how, through the aid of one of the prison keepers at Messina, whom, in one of his missions, he had found poor and sick of the plague, he had managed to secure his release from confinement, and suffered him to escape: how he had heard of Claude's apostacy, but knew that it must have sprung from a momentary weakness: how he had wandered in wastes