possessor of one of those cane-bottomed arm-chairs which are arranged so as to fold together till they are nearly flat. These chairs I had seen exposed for sale in several of the Liverpool shops, but I did not even imagine that they formed a necessary part of the outfit of those who sailed across the sea. Greatly to my surprise, I learned that those who failed to bring their own chairs could not expect to be comfortably seated on the deck of a well-found Cunarder. This piece of information diminished my respect for the company which boasts of never having lost a letter or a passenger, and which makes its reputation an apology for charging more than any other for a passage across the Atlantic.

Soon after stepping on board the China, I gained another item of knowledge, which would have been very useful, had it not been acquired too late. A rush was made to the saloon by those passengers who knew the importance of being the first to perform the simple ceremony of affixing their cards to the places at table which they wished to occupy during the voyage. Those who omitted to do this, or who were ignorant of the advantage of being ranked among the first comers, were doomed to the discomfort of sitting where the unpleasant effects caused by the rotation of the screw-propeller were even more to be dreaded than the motion of the

steamer as she pitches, when the waves are dashing against her bows, or when she rolls heavily under the influence of cross seas. In this case, however, the law of compensation operated in a manner which afforded a grim pleasure to the disappointed. Those who had established a claim to the best scats did not always appear to occupy them. Circumstances over which they had no control frequently forced them to remain in their berths or on the deck while feasting and mirth prevailed in the saloon.

After the China had steamed a short distance down the river she was stopped, in order to allow a tender, bearing the latest despatches, to come alongside. Several persons who had embarked at Liverpool now went on shore in this tender. There were the usual painful scenes which occur when partings take place between those who cannot see cach other for a long interval, or who are doubtful about meeting again. A demonstration, of a marked and unusual kind, made it evident that a passenger of note was on board. As he stepped forward to acknowledge the greetings of those about to depart, and lifted his hat to return them, the noble features of a great American poet were recognised by many persons, who congratulated themselves on the good fortune which had accidentally made them the

fellow-travellers of Mr. Longfellow, on his return home, after a protracted sojourn in Europe.

The first evening at sea was unmarred by any of the discomforts which frequently attend those who go down to the sea in ships. Every one ate, drank, and made merry. There were many children on board the steamer. As they gambolled about the deck, much more to their own satisfaction than to that of their elders, the more cynical passengers remarked that the Irish Channel was almost too smooth and the breeze too light. The fineness of the weather enabled us to view the coast of Wales

to great advantage. Places were pointed out where large ships had gone to pieces during the raging of the terrific storms of winter. For the present these dangerous headlands were gazed at with pleasure by those who delighted to view without risk the bold, rugged outlines of stupendous cliffs, which are generally the terror of the sailor, but were now objects to be admired. At an early hour on Sunday morning the steamer reached Queenstown, where, after a detention of ten hours, the last mails were embarked; and then the voyage across the ocean may be said to have really begun. Rounding the south coast of Ireland, the long Atlantic swell imparted to the steamer an amount

of motion which cast down the spirits of the bad sailors whose hearts had beat high at the hope of a voyage devoid of suffering, because made across a sea as placid as a land-locked bay. Still, the movement was not sufficiently great to produce inconvenience to the most timid or sensitive. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful spectacle than that which was presented at nightfall. It was one which no poet could adequately reproduce in words, nor any painter in colours. The grand Atlantic waves were slowly heaving with a long and measured motion; the full-orbed moon was set in a serene and cloudless sky, and the wind was still. The spray, raised by the steamer's prow swiftly cleaving the dark blue water, fell back in a shower of fire, or fitfully flashed along the steamer's sides in a stream of dazzling light. As the moon's ivory beams quivered upon the agitated water in the vessel's track, and mingled with one of the phosphorescent flashes on the crests of tiny waves, the combination of colours thus produced was magical alike in variety and vividness. These effects, being not continuous, but intermittent, a watchful eye had to be kept for a glimpse of unexpected beauties. Far on into the night did many passengers gaze on the attractive and novel spectacle, and sate their eyes with its loveliness. It was one which they

might never again behold during a passage across the Atlantic.

On the morrow the scene changed. The angry coursers of Neptune were careering over the deep, and spending their fury against the steamer's stout sides. Strong head-winds retarded her progress. By not a few, life on the ocean was found to be vexation of spirit, a burden too terrible to be borne without murmuring. The noisy children of the preceding day were now lying like logs in out-ofthe-way corners; passengers who had been jubilant as to the prospects of the voyage now shook their heads and bemoaned their lot. The attendance at meals was agreeably select.

The state of things during the remainder of the voyage cannot be set forth more truthfully as regards the majority of the passengers than in the words which the late Lord Jeffrey wrote in his journal when crossing the Atlantic in 1813. According to him, the pleasures of a voyage were :— Imprimis: Oppression and intolerable sickness, coldness, loathing, and vertigo. Secundo: Great occasional fear of drowning, and penitence for the folly of having come voluntarily in the way of it. Tertio: There is the impossibility of taking any exercise, and the perpetual danger of breaking your limbs if you try to move from your chair to your