But as “many things by season season’d are to their right praise and true perfection,” so the human mind seems able to adapt and accommodate itself to the varying circumstances of this transient sphere. A century or so hence the people of this country will probably look on our modern naval and mercantile craft with as critical an eye as that with which we contemplate the _Victory_, or the first steamers of the P. and O. We pride ourselves on the combination of size, speed, and comfort, and the graceful lines of our floating palaces, on their electric lighting and luxurious saloons; we feel confident that not much more can be accomplished: yet could we but “revisit the glimpses of the moon” in 1992, we should find ourselves in the midst of a new creation. On the 1st September, 185—, a majestic old frigate-built East Indiaman lay moored off Spithead, all ready to weigh anchor and awaiting only the arrival of the pilot and one or two passengers, detained by accident or otherwise. She was surrounded by numerous small craft, some laden with various articles for sale, others waiting to convey ashore those who had come aboard to see the last of sons and daughters about to seek their fortunes in the glorious East, where money was reputed to be easily made, and men hungered for wives of the European pattern. Very mixed were the feelings of the passengers at the moment of parting: regret on the one hand at being separated from loving parents, severed from the tried companions and indelible associations of early youth; on the other, a certain feeling of independence and freedom, and the natural ambition to get on in the world. Many shook hands for the last time on this side of the grave; and as the tiny craft pulled away and were lost in the distance, the solitude of the cabin was sought, and a blessing implored on the dear ones left behind. There may be a reluctance on the part of many to utter a prayer under normal conditions, but in an unusual state of things there are, I believe, few who will not deviate from the beaten track and intuitively ask aid from a higher power. Sorrow, however, takes but a passing hold of the elastic nature of youth; and when the shrill whistle of the boatswain and the stamping of many feet on deck proclaimed that the anchor was being weighed and the canvas loosened, curiosity soon gained the ascendancy, and, in spite of eyes still red with weeping, passengers as yet unknown to each other might be seen occupying every coign of vantage, and watching the sailors as they sped round the capstan to some familiar air played on the fiddle; and anon looking up as sail after sail was loosened, then drawn home and bellied by the freshening breeze. That she was moving soon became evident from the noise made by the water and the gradual diminution of familiar objects ashore. Glasses were brought into requisition, and closed with a sigh when, even with their aid, all was blurred, hazy, indistinct.