I can hear the bell clanging discordantly, and hurrying the crowds out into the evening sunset or pouring rain, and nerving them to fight manfully for omnibuses to bear them I know not where, or how, so numberless do they seem. But now the bell has ceased to ring, or the ringing in my ear has ended, the last visitor has passed out, and I am alone. Vanished things are all these, why should I linger longer over the ashes of the past; I have raked out my last cinder; this ramble is made and ended, it too will soon be among the vanished things; to-day will be part of the dim past, the curtain will have fallen on our life's drama, and the play will be played out. Come, let us turn over a new page!

CHRISTMAS TIME AT SEA.

That the sympathies of our readers will be enlisted in favour of this subject I am confident, seeing that in this great maritime nation there is scarcely a family that has not one of its loved ones wandering on the waters; scarcely an individual, however solitary, who has not a dear friend or relative among our mariners; and not one true English heart, whether it beats in the breast of man, woman, or child, that does not take a lively interest in all that concerns the comfort and enjoyment, as well as the hardships and privations of the seafaring portion of the community.

Surrounded by all the comforts of home,-comforts which to the mariner are positive luxuries, so rarely does he enjoy them,-you who live upon the land still look forward with pleasurable anticipa tions to the social gatherings and many innocent enjoyments which all, whether old or young, hope to participate in at Christmas time; and if it brings to your minds so many attractive features, you may readily conceive that these features will be doubly attractive to the imagination of the seaman, (who, far away from home, and deprived of most of the every-day enjoyments which we on shore are apt to consider as the very necessaries of life) has his fancy sharpened by the inconstant nature of his profession, which leaves him in doubt whether his ship will be at sea or in port when Christmas comes, and in many instances uncertain whether circumstances will admit of his frugal Christmas dinner of salt junk and biscuit being enlivened even by an extra allowance of grog! No wonder, then, that when Jack has an opportunity he enjoys his Christmas holiday to the full! No wonder if he enters into the amusements of the season with the enthusiasm of a child. And no wonder if he partakes of the (to him,) rare luxury of the good cheer before him with a keenness and zest which to us are unknown. And if at such times any of my friends should meet Jack ashore rather the worse in his gait

for having dined with his friends, I would ask them to think of his privations, temptations, and unsettled mode of life, and then to let accents of compassion fall from the lips that were perhaps quite prepared to censure and condemn.

And to

As the space allotted to me is limited. I will confine my remarks to Jack's proceedings on Christmas day, and on board one of our vessels of war in Malta Harbour, as it so happened that it was in that port I spent my last Christmas afloat. I shall also confine myself more particularly to this one day at Christmas time, because it is, so to speak, Jack's only holiday in the year; that is to say, it is his only holiday on board his ship; or, in the language of polite circles, the only day of the year that Jack is "At Home." give you an idea how highly he values it, I may say, that although he may have been anxious to get leave, and ready to go on shore on the shortest notice on each of the preceding 364 days, and is sure to be equally ready for a cruise on terra firma on either of the subsequent 364 days; on the contrary, upon Christmas Day it is almost an impossibility to get him out of the ship! By way of illustration of this fact, I may mention that some four or five years ago I was in one of Her Majesty's ships on the coast of Scotland, employed in keeping the Dutch, Belgian, and French fishermen from poaching in our waters, and from taking the bread out of our own fishermen's mouths. We were, in fact, on the home station, but the nature of our employment frequently took us into port for short periods, only, perhaps, for a day or two at a time. Under such circumstances, and knowing his irregular habits, we always thought it prudent to keep Jack on board, allowing the married men only to go on shore. Our tars did not exactly like this, and overhauled the matter well in their minds, and I am glad to say that the effect of our policy was that most of the ship's company took to them wives and became steadygoing men. Well, when Christmas Eve came round, the married men were told there was no occasion for them to come on board until Boxing Day, thinking they would like to have Christmas Day quietly at home with their wives and families. Not so, however! They wanted to eat their Christmas dinner on board; and more, to bring their wives on board too, and we actually had to make it a matter of bargain, that for the comfort of the women, they, the Benedicts, would clear out of the ship before dark.

Let us now for a moment turn our attention to Christmas Day on shore, with which you are most familiar. Well, there is the house to decorate with holly, mistletoe, &c., and there is (of course I speak of it now as one of the glorious institutions of our country, not of such mere matter of fact as eating and drinking) there is, I say, the Christmas dinner to prepare; and I am credibly informed that the ancient customs and associations connected with this glorious institution, are such as to require grave deliberation, and the greatest activity in the culinary or home department of every Englishman's castle. Even so, friends, is it in your floating castles, be they wooden walls or iron sides. Days and days beforehand Jack commences

his preparations. During the meal hours, (the only time strangers are ordinarily allowed on board to visit the sailors) knots of blue jackets are to be constantly seen around the bumboatman, (a kind of universal commission agent and general dealer, whose boat is his shop, and whose profits are by no means small,) confusing him with the number and variety and novelty of their orders. A group of petty officers as a deputation from the ship's company seek the quarter deck, and obtain permission for a trusty hand of each mess to go on shore to market. Large speculations are made in flour, eggs, and other comestibles, which in some places I have been into literally caused a rise in the price of things, so careless and profuse is Jack in making his purchases. Joints of mammoth size, poultry and sucking pigs, flock in over the gangway, followed by baskets of oranges and other fruit, and many bulky parcels of groceries in which the ill-natured suspect and say "grog" is too often concealed; and grog, as some of my readers are aware, is in most ships strictly considered to be contraband of war. However, it must be confessed that either the ship's police are less vigilant than usual, or that Jack's fertile ingenuity is keener about this time, for it is a fact that much of the forbidden importation is always smuggled on board for the Christmas dinner, and, if space permitted, I could tell you some amusing anecdotes bearing upon this subject. But to continue my story. Dealers in cheap, brilliantly coloured pictures come alongside, and for a time drive a thriving trade. Occasionally the quick eye of the officer of the watch is dazzled by flashes from many a quire of coloured paper, and gold and silver tinsel, as it comes through the entry port. And here I would pause awhile to describe how a portion of this tinsel and pretty paper is to be used. Like folks on shore, Jack has his hobbies; and his great Christmas hobby is his chandelier! No mess would be considered complete without one, and a new chandelier is required every Christmas Day, on which day solely it is used. To say that these chandeliers are gorgeous is to say the least that can be said, for a spirit of rivalry always exists among the messes as to which shall exhibit the best, and consequently considerable expense is involved in their construction. Their foundation, it is true, is but three iron hoops varying in size, and suspended one above the other, but these are so clothed and re-clothed, (parcelled and served, is the nautical term) with ribbons, fancy paper, gold and silver flags in miniature, pictures, real bayonets, a watch, a sweetheart's photograph, or anything that will add to the general effect, that after undergoing such a transformation it would be a wise cooper who could recognise his own hoops, and when it is at last completed, the chandelier stands forth-a rara avis indeed—a perfect triumph of naval architecture!

Again a deputation of the "grave and reverend signors" of the forecastle appear on the quarter-deck, this time with somewhat dubious faces; their spokesman, hat in one hand, lock of hair in the other, addresses the Commanding Officer in some such words as these: "if you please, Sir, the ship's company wants to know if

you will let them keep the galley fire in all night, as they've only got three days to cook their Christmas dinners in ?" No small request; for the discipline, if not the safety, of a man-of-war, sternly requires that the men's fire and lights shall be put out at nine, and the officers' about an hour later! But it is Jack's holiday; and with a caution the request is granted; and I may here remark that many would lose their Christmas dinners if the request was not granted, for the galley or kitchen range for a crew of a thousand men only covers an area of about ten feet; in ordinary circumstances the front of the fire place is barely sufficient for the officers, while the seamen's dinners are prepared by the simple process of boiling in the coppers, which of course would not be exactly the thing for Jack's Christmas repast. Boat-loads of green bushes, myrtle, orange, lemon, and other fragrant trees now come on board, and the work of preparation advances cheerily.

Christmas Day is ushered in. At an early hour the decks by the process of "holystoning" are made to look scrupulously clean; the yards are squared; ropes hauled taut, and carefully flaked down; brass work rubbed up; guns affectionately polished, (for sailors do love their big guns and always call them " she") and the ship made to look as neat and as trim as a lady going to a party. About nine A.M. the drum beats to quarters, and all hands assemble at their stations; the officers in epaulettes and side arms; the men in their simple characteristic costume, white frock and trowsers, blue jacket and straw hat with ship's name on the ribbon, and all dandily cut and ornamented. The inspection takes place and the drum beats the retreat, immediately followed by the shrill whistling of the boatswain and his mates to rig the church,-a simple process which, by each man bringing a chair or a stool, or extemporising seats with capstan bars resting on buckets, expeditiously converts the deck of a ship into an appropriate place for Divine Worship. If there be a Chaplain on board, a pulpit will appear out of one of the store rooms; if not, a flag thrown over the capstan makes a fit readingdesk for the Captain. The ship's bell tolls, the men assemble, and form a still and attentive, and we will hope, a sincere and devout congregation. Service over, the church furniture disappears, and all hands proceed to give the final touch to their preparations for the feast.

Discipline is now relaxed to the extreme point that prudence will admit of. According to ancient custom, the petty officers resign their various functions for the remainder of the day, and their posts are immediately usurped by the ship's boys. An urchin of the smallest size assumes the duties of the quarter-master of the watch, and turns a knowing eye up aloft, and anon upon the compasses. Another staggers about with a spy glass as big as himself, and modestly calls himself the signal man; a third dons the uniform and appointments of the serjeant of marines, in which, (although nearly smothered) he, by an effort, manages to caricature the true "military deportment," and pays frequent visits to the sentries to see that they

are on the alert. A fourth takes possession of the silver call or whistle of one of the boatswain's mates, but in his hands, it must be acknowledged, the instrument in question-used with greater zeal than ability-does not "discourse sweet music," or having discoursed, by no means "enchants the ear!" Another lays sacrilegious hands on the much dreaded cane of the master-at-arms-that stern policeman or awe-inspiring beadle of the ship--the very terror of the unlucky boys who cannot keep themselves out of trouble! To-day, however, this much-respected functionary lays aside the inflexible majesty of the law and becomes quite harmless and approachable. In this way all the important posts of the ship change hands for the time, and as the Officers, from the Captain downwards, make a point of seeing and interfering as little as possible with the new order of things, it would seem to a stranger, not in the secret, that the morale of the ship must really be completely turned upside down.

The clock strikes twelve; that is, the bell strikes eight, which your nautical friends will tell you means pretty much the same thing. The dinner pendant flies at the mast-head of the Admiral's ship, and is promptly answered by all the ships in port; four peculiar pipes from the boatswain and his mates summon Jack to his meal, and announce to him that the rest of the day is his own.

Once more, a group of smiling weather-beaten veterans appears on the quarter-deck with a respectful invitation from the ship's company to their Captain and Officers to inspect their decorations and to partake of their good cheer. The invitation cordially accepted, the Officers now accompany their hosts, to pass through what to an unguarded novice would be no trifling ordeal. But not to anticipate, I must describe the scene into which they are about to be introduced; a scene, which often beheld, yet ever left on my mind anew an impression of the singularly striking and beautiful. That impression I can best convey to my readers by asking them to fancy what Vauxhall Gardens must have been on a gala night in the olden time; then imagine the same amount of decoration and illumination -gardens and all-crowded into the confined space between a ship's two decks, and you have before you a more correct idea of the scene into which Jack is about to introduce his Officers, than I could give you by an hour's elaborate description.

So complete indeed is the transformation, that we might easily for the time forget that we were on board a ship, and imagine ourselves rather in the realms of Fairy Land; for every mess is a bower, and in every bower is a spectacle it would gladden your eyes to see; a table groaning under the weight of substantial Christmas fare, (rather too substantial for fairies, by-the-way,) and so thoroughly covered with dishes that there is positively no room on it for plates; and round every table seated some ten or a dozen of such hearty, manly-looking fellows as Old England glories to acknowledge as her sons; and all in such a blaze of light (daylight being carefully excluded so as to heighten the effect,) and gold, and green, and many colours, that instead of their being the loyal subjects of our