On my returning to a belief of the truths of Christianity, I have been very much assisted by the pious exhortations of the ordinary, as well as by the book he has put into my hands; and I feel a comfort which I am unable to express by this his charitable and benevolent attention to me.  I believe there is no passion more prevalent in the human breast than the wish that our memory should be held in remembrance.  I shudder at the thought lest my name should be branded with infamy, when I lie mouldering in the dust, as I know well that the tongue of malice is ever loud against the failings of the unfortunate.  When, however, my character is insulted, and my poor reputation attacked, extenuate, I beseech you, the enormity of my crime, by relating the hardships of my sufferings.  Tell to the giddy and affluent, that, strangers to the severity of want, they know not the pain of withstanding the almost irresistible calls of nature.  The poor will, I trust, commiserate my misfortunes, and shed a sympathetic tear at the mournful tale of my miserable fate.  I can say no more.  Heaven have mercy on us all!

Adieu for ever.  J. LEE.

* * * * *

PARTING FOR THE POLE.

  He.—­Now weep not Poll because I go,
    There’s no need, I declare,
  For when among the Esquimaux,
    I’ve too much blubber there.

  Women mis-doubt a sailor’s word,
    We don’t deserve the wipe;
  For when they pipe us all aboard,
    Aboard we all do pipe.

  We’ve rocks, when all our tears are past,
    The sailor’s heart to shock,

  She..—­Why yes, Jack—­when you’re on the mast,
    You’re sure to have a rock.

  He.—­You’ll find some fellow on dry ground,
    You will prefer to me,
  To him I see you will be bound,
    While I’m bound to the sea.

  But if I sail the world around,
    I’ll be a faithful rover,

  She.—­Poh! you’ll forget me I’ll be bound
    When you are half seas over.

  He.—­And when alas, your Jack is gone,
    You’ll think of naught but jigging,
  And you will sport your rigging on,
    While Jack is on the rigging.

  Where winter’s ice around us grows,
    And storms upon us roll,

  She.—­Ah, that’s the time I do suppose
  They look out for the pole.

  He.—­But if I should be sunk d’ye see,

  She.—­Bring up a coral wreath,

  He.—­Why if I were beneath the sea,
    I could not see beneath.

  She.—­Yet if you should be cast away,
    Without a cloak, or victual,
  Remember me, a little, pray,
    You’d better pray a little.

  But tho’ you wish us now to splice,
    Our hands—­your love won’t hold,
  For when you get among the ice,
    I’m sure you will grow cold.