he was no less firm in his duties on shipboard, and his stern word of command was received by his men with the same hearty “aye, aye,” as when he cracked a joke with them over the club-room fire.  Harry had kept his promise in regard to his wish to go with his father; and when he looked into his mother’s face, and saw how mournful was her smile, he felt that it would indeed be cruel to think of leaving her.  But when he heard the sailors saying, as he clambered up the rigging, that it was a pity such a sprightly little fellow could not go along with them, his desire to ship for the voyage knew no bounds, and seeking his father, in the cabin, he had a long interview with him, gaining the promise that when he should return he would secure for him a good lay, and that he might then commence the nautical career, which the captain plainly saw his inclinations had marked out.

The day had arrived when the ship would sail.  Every thing had been made ready for a long voyage, should the captain not meet with his usual good fortune, which was considered unnecessary by her owners, so sanguine were they of her success; such implicit faith did they place in the abilities of her captain, that in securing his services, they looked upon the voyage as told.  Ah! who can tell if that proud ship may ever return?  Was there not one who looked upon her thus?  Within that happy home, now so desolate, sat the wife of him who had just taken his leave of her, and the bitterness of that hour who can tell?  She only who has tasted the same cup of sorrow; she who has given to the mercies of the deep him whom she holds most dear on earth.  Such an one can indeed realize what were the feelings of that wife, as she sat at the window, her eye fixed upon the ship which was bearing away him whom she might never see more.  The white sail is smaller and smaller, until it appears but a speck, and is finally lost in the distance.  And then what a sense of desolation!  Oh, might we all seek for strength in time of trouble, of Him who will not turn a deaf ear to the cries of his children!  Who hath said, “As thy day, so shall thy strength be.”  Would that all might seek for comfort in the hour of trial, as did that stricken one,—­in prayer!  The Sea-flower had, with Harry, accompanied her father in the ship, as she was towed out by the steamer over the bar.  As they were about to cast off, when the steamer should return, the father sought to bid his children farewell.  Turning to his boy, he bade him be all that a son and brother should be.  With one long embrace his eye rested upon the Sea-flower; his voice failed him.

“Father,” said the child, “you will soon come to us again; then you will never leave us;” pointing to a little cross which she had privately embroidered and set up in his state-room, she said, “you will be happy, father, so happy, on the water!  But sometimes, when the stars look down upon you, or the great waves break over your ship, you will want to see us; and when you look at the pretty name which you gave me,” (pointing out the word Natalie, which was wrought upon the foot of the cross), “you may know that I am thinking of you.  Our hearts shall be with you.”