Company's Service. On his departure, he earned no parent's blessing
for him, no anxious father sighed, no fond indulgent mother wept and
prayed. As I stood musing on the scene, a gentleman, a seeming idler,
like myself, joined me, and after many judicious remarks on what was
passing around, informed me he was there to meet a widowed sister, who
only three years before, had gone out in the very ship in which she
now returned, to join her husband,--the long affianced of her early
choice. For a short period, she had enjoyed all earthly happiness, but
it was only for a brief space; for soon, alas! was she taught in the
school of sorrow, that this world is not our abiding place.

But the Blue Peter,[1] gently floating in the scarcely perceptible
breeze, betokened the vessel from which it streamed, destined for a
far different purpose. It told not of restoring the fond husband to
his wife, the father to his children, or the lover to his mistress; it
was, in this instance, to sever, for a time, all these endearing ties;
for very soon would the father, the husband, and the lover be borne
many miles on the trackless ocean, far, very far, from all they hold
dear, and some with feelings so deep and true, that for a time, not
all the brilliant prospects of wealth or glory, will restore their
spirits to their wonted tone.

[1] A flag hoisted always when a ship is preparing to sail.

There was one detachment which greatly struck me; it consisted of
about one hundred and fifty fine athletic young men, who though only
recruits, were particularly soldier-like in appearance. There was
throughout, a sort of determined firmness in their countenances, which
seemed to say, "Away with private feelings! we go on glory's errand,
and at her imperious bidding, and of her alone we think!" Yet to