As we entered the city at an early hour, everything wore a cheerful aspect, every step seemed elastic and every heart buoyant with hope.  There was a continual hum of busy men and women, as we were passing near a market.  Such a rolling of carts and carriages—­so many cheerful children, some crying “Raddishes”—­“raddishes”—­others “Strawberries”—­“strawberries”—­others with baskets of flowers—­all wide awake, each eager to sell his various articles of merchandise.  This was indeed a novel scene to us—­it did seem a charming place.  My young companion remarked, Aunt C——­, “I think everybody here must be happy.”  I could not but at first respond to the sentiment.  But presently we began to meet persons—­some halt—­some blind—­some in rags—­looking filthy and degraded.

Every face was new to us—­not one person among the throngs we met that we had ever seen before.  An unusual sense of loneliness came over me, and I thought my young attendant participated in this same feeling of solitude, and though I said nothing, I sighed for the quiet and familiar faces and scenes of the “Home, sweet home” I had so recently left.

We had not proceeded far before we saw men and boys in great commotion, all running hurriedly, in one direction, bending their steps towards the opposite shore.  Their step was light and quick, but a look of sadness was in every face.  We could only, now and then, gather up a few murmuring words that fell from the lips of the passers-by.

“There were more than thirty persons killed,” said one.  “Yes, more than fifty,” said another.  We soon learned that a vessel on fire, the preceding evening had entered the harbour, but the fire had progressed so far that it was impossible to extend relief to the sufferers, and most of the crew perished in the flames, or jumped overboard and were drowned.

The awful impression of distress made upon the minds of persons unaccustomed to such disasters, cannot well be described—­they certainly were by no means transient.

It was sad to reflect that many who had thus perished after an absence from home, some a few weeks, others for months, instead of greeting their friends, were hurried into eternity so near their own homes, under such aggravated circumstances.  And then what a terrible disappointment to survivors!  Many families as well as individuals were by this calamity not only bereft of friends, but of their property—­some reduced to a state of comparative beggary.

This day’s experience was but a faint picture of human life.

But to return to that young nephew.  Does any one inquire with interest, Did his cheerful, benevolent disposition, his readiness to impart and to receive happiness continue with him through life?  It did in a pre-eminent degree.  It is believed that even then “The joy of the Lord was his strength.”—­Neh. viii. 10.