On the following Sunday, the good old Father preached in the village chapel from this text:—“If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.” He attempted to shew, that wherever we go, in obedience to the voice of duty—whether upon burning sands or freezing snows—whether in the flowery meadows or on the stormy seas—the love, and mercy, and tenderness of heaven would hover over us still, making our happiness fruitful, and turning our sorrows into joy. It was a very comforting sermon for the family; and when the evening of that Sabbath came, it was one of the sweetest and calmest they had ever enjoyed. The stars that glittered in the skies seemed like the eyes of angels looking down upon them; and the cool breeze that touched their cheek and hair as it swept by, was like the kiss of an invisible spirit, stooping down from a higher world. Time flew rapidly on, and the day for parting came. Jill went with her lover to the ship. She saw it leave the quay at Cork; she watched it from the sea-shore, as with outspread sails it glided on and on. She lingered on the beach till the shadows of evening fell, and the vessel containing her dearest friend faded away like a speck on the horizon. She wept a little—it was natural, she could not help it; but the tears were not altogether bitter. The night wind swept over the sea with a solemn sound; the waves broke upon the shore, and to the pious listener they seemed to say—“Fear not! we roll in the hollow of His hand.” * * * * * Among the old lovers of little Jill was one Laurence Doheney, the village postmaster’s son. She had never given him the slightest encouragement; but now that Jack had gone to America, he thought there was a chance for him, if he chose to persevere; and persevere he did, much to Jill’s annoyance. He would sit upon the garden railings, playing a few notes on an old cracked fiddle he had borrowed, and sing a rude verse of a song which some one had written for him:— “My pretty Jill! Have you I will! I’ll be your constant lover. When one’s away, The wise would say, ‘Take comfort in another.’”