She was in a state of high nervous agitation. Her eye shone with uncommon lustre and glanced over the sea unsteadily. "The elements are to have their turn next," said she.

Her eye was bent upon the scowling east. The same motionless body of clouds was there, black as before. Around it were rapidly revolving others of a wild and ragged look, stained by the setting moon with the colour of brass. Others of the same hue were shooting off from the main body, and moving rapidly towards the zenith, like the advanced squadrons of an army. Then the moon went down, leaving the ocean to a darkness that accorded well with the portentous aspect of the heavens. The intermitted breathings of the spicy west wind ceased entirely, and an appalling stillness in the elements ensued. The water began to assume a most singular appearance. Those who have seen on the coast the rippling produced by an immense shoal of white fish, can form some idea of its agitation. The dashing of a bucket would cover its surface with a thousand sparkling points, and a shoal of berneta passing rapidly, looked like balls of meteoric fire shooting through the depths of the sea.

A low creaking sound from the rigging and the warning voice of the captain, announced that the long-expected onset of the winds was at hand, and I had just time to hand Mary to the cabin when the ship was bending low upon her side by the pressure of a furious gust. No precaution which prudence and experience suggested, to put the ship in a condition to grapple safely with her powerful adversary, had been omitted by our wary commander. No canvass was spread aloft but the three close reefed topsails. A large detachment of those brassy clouds before mentioned, had passed the zenith when the first squall struck us. It lasted but a minute. That minute however was sufficient to tear our topsails into ribands, and they were borne away like feathers on the wings of the blast. A dead calm and a "horror of great darkness" succeeded. A hollow, whispering sound, like the moan of spirits in the air, was heard, and numerous little balls of pale light gleamed and vanished on the dark canopy which had now completely invested the hea

vens.

"We shall have it soon,” observed the captain in a calm, low voice.

Scarcely had he spoken, when a meteor of uncommon size and splendour, shot from a point near the zenith, and glancing across the dark background of the east, sunk into the

The hurricanes of these seas are as shortlived as they are violent. The dawn of day showed no trace of the tempest that had deformed the night, but the tattered rigging and well washed deck of our own vessel. Cuba and St. Domingo had sunk beneath the horizon, and other heights on our right were lifting their misty heads almost to the zenith. Within a mile of us lay a sloping shore clothed with brilliant green to the water's edge. No naked sand hills marred the beauty of the landscape. All was green, save where, occasionally, a rising eminence or an opening vale presented its painted sugar works and breeze mills.

To form a background to this picturesque region rose the inagnificent range of the Blue Mountains. "The Peak" is ten thousand feet high, and is certainly one of the most beautiful elevations on the globe. It stands in the centre of a circle of smaller mountains, like a monarch surrounded by his ministers of state. Along its base spots of red are seen, which, on near approach, prove to be coffee plantations. A belt of clouds embraces its middle, while its sharp summit, crowned with impenetrable forests, enjoys perpetual snnshine, and looks over half the Carribean sea. "If there be an Eden on earth,” said I, we have it before us."

66

"The sun shines not," observed Mr. Douglas, "on an island more beautiful than Jamaica; and but for man, who seems to have marked out the fairest portions of God's earth for the exercise of his worst passions, it might justly be styled a terrestrial paradise."

The remark was just and striking. In taking a survey of the world, it is not upon the beauties of the landscape merely that the mind most delights to dwell. And although, like the feature's of a stranger's face, they are the first objects that meet and interest its attention, yet recollecting that it is man who stamps a character on all things here below, it turns from thein to contemplate the manners of society. In a community of virtuous and enlightened freemen, it discovers a moral grandeur and beauty surpassing everything in the natural world. The pride of the forest must stoop to time; the beauties of vegetation must fade; the mighty hills are to sink in the general wreck of nature; but the virtues that exalt a nation are a garland which

the breath of eternity will not wither. Such is its just estimation of the world. With what rapture, then, must it turn to view the country where the grandest scenes of nature dwindle into insignificance before the sublimity of man's virtue. But where on earth shall such a land be sought? Surely not within the tropics. By some strange fatality, this broad zone, emphatically the garden of the earth, is trodden by slaves and barbarians. Here, where the Deity is most visibly present by the works of his bounty and power, man sins with the highest hand. Here, where nature lifts her altars, the everlasting hills, nighest heaven, his thoughts are most grovelling. The stranger who would leave Jamaica with most favourable impressions, must view it at a distance as we did, or be spirited to its shores, and alight on a pinnacle of its sequestered mountains, where, without seeing a human being, he can view the island as it came from the hand of its Maker.

But to return to our voyage. There is not on the face of the globe a country, however beautiful in the main, which has not its blemish. Thus, a few hours' sailing enabled us to discover a prominent one in Jamaica. We reached a part of the coast, where, it is said, rain or dew is never known to fall. Never could imagination picture a wilder scene of desolation. As if an eternal sirocco breathed upon it, every germ of vegetation was blasted. Withered shrubs were thinly scattered over a vast chaos of rocks and barren mountains, that on all sides presented frightful chasms, hollowed, perhaps, by nature's omnipotent agent, the earthquake.

But the propitious breeze did not allow us long to contemplate this region of horror. Again all was beautiful and green. The ship glided on with increased velocity as she approached the end of her journey; the coast flew by like a dream, and the goal of our pilgrimage rose upon the view. We passed the remains of Port Royal. A ship of the line lay moored where once stood the most populous part of the city. She is emphatically a "Sea Sodom; for if ever the habitations of men are subjected for their crimes to the direct and dreadful wrath in the Almighty, then must the triple overthrow of this ancient mart be regarded as instances of such a visitation. Once it was burned to the ground; once it was swept to destruction by a hurricane; and again, as if her iniquities had risen to heaven, and the earth could sustain the burthen no longer, her foundations were shaken under her, and she sunk for ever.

We passed up the beautiful bay of Kingston, and on the afternoon of the sixth of May we came to anchor about half a mile from the shore. Numerous boats were boarding us and departing on different errands. An hun dred ships were discharging or receiving their cargoes, to the cheerful song of the sailors.

The passengers soon collected in a group on the quarter-deck, gazing on the thousand no velties that meet the eye from the island, town, and bay. Mary was there, in excellent spirits; every moment discovering and pointing out, with the most animated gestures and exclamations, some new object of admiration. At this moment a barge from the castle shot across the bay, containing an officer and a platoon of soldiers with orders for the delivery of our prisoners into the hands of justice. Accordingly, amidst a profound silence, they were marched one by one from the hold, where they had been immured for fifteen hours, and passed over the side of the ship into the boat. There they were handcuffed and bound. Two other barges were in attendance with an equal number of men to act as guards.

The sight of these wretches painfully affected Miss Douglas, and carried back her thoughts to the bloody scene of the preceding night. She shuddered at the recollection, and murmured, "He that uttered that dreadful cry is not here."

Although she had spoken in a low voice, her words fell upon the ear of the last prisoner, who was just in the act of leaving the ship. He was a youth of about two and twenty, with a slender but very elegant figure. His countenance might have been striking and expressive; but it was now disfigured with a scar, and bore the infallible marks of long and habitual indulgence in intemperance. I said he heard the voice of Mary. He stopped, and looked as if he was nailed to the deck. He put his hand to his forehead like one bewildered, and his eye wandered over the ship as if searching for the sound he had heard, till at length it fell upon Mary, and he stood gazing upon her with a countenance varying strangely from the vacant stare of idiotcy to an expression of inexplicable meaning and She was absorbed in her own reflections and heeded him not. I made an exclamation of surprise, and directed her attention to the miserable man who was so closely observing her. She looked, her eye met the ghastly stare of his, and if a bolt from heaven had struck her she could not have fallen more quickly.

even agony.

"William Ashton!" cried the wretched father, "are you not yet satisfied? Will you take her life too?"

The miserable man rushed past his guards, threw back the curls from her forehead, and, gasping for breath like one in the agonies of strangulation, gazed upon her. Then, springing to the vessel's side, before any arm could interpose, he buried himself in the sea, and never rose more.

It was many minutes before Miss Douglas showed any signs of life. At last, after a strong convulsion, she opened her eyes.

"Where is he?" said she, starting up in

Never, perhaps, was a more beautiful sight seen on the water than the Bay presented. The British Queen, the best, if not the largest steam vessel that ever floated, dashing down the Bay, attended by a flotilla of other steam vessels, each crammed by a multitude of our citizens, who seemed to vie with each other in offering up their best wishes for the safe voyage and speedy return of their British visitors. The "Great Western" was steaming away down through the Narrows; the "British Queen was following her like a fleet racehorse. The "Neptune," the largest steamboat we have, was between the two; men were huzzaing, loafers were shouting, rumheads were swilling and swearing, black-legs were betting, blue stockings were debating, silk stockings were discussing, and sans stockings and sans culottes were cutting about between the crowds, picking pockets and picking up "unconsidered trifles." It was a great day. The hundred thousand eyes gazed after the vessels until distance, which lent enchantment to the view, enviously hid them from the sight of our citizens about three o'clock; and then 50,000 souls, of all sorts and shades, complexions, and conditionr, strayed to their different houses and eating-houses, some satisfied, some savage, some to eat a good dinner, some to drink, some to look on and languish, some sober, and all "tarnation hot."

George Hawes, the butcher, was up all Tuesday and Wednesday night, killing, preparing, and putting meat, beef, veal, and mutton on board the Queen, some of which, packed in ice, will be eaten fresh in England, to show John Bull that we have as sweet and as tender mutton in America as they have.

Before the British Queen left London Queen Adelaide went on board of her, and engaged too large state rooms on deck, (for there is to be a handsome poop deck built,) for herself and five maids of honour, who are coming out with a large retinue to New York next spring [!]. Gods! what a time we shall have!

We shall yet live to see steam make America a monarchy or Britain a republic.

In the mean time, should a public dinner be given to Captain Roberts, commander, it is proposed to give this toast-"The second discoverer of America-Columbus found the land; Roberts, the shortest road to it."

Weekly Herald of New York.

THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION.. AN ARTICLE FOR LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC

INSTITUTIONS.

(From "Yankee Notions.")

THE ancient philosopher, when he had a mind to eat, opened his mouth; the moderns, when

they have a mind either to eat or drink, are afraid to do any such thing as opening their mouths. This is a scientific age, and we have so wonderfully improved on the practice of the ancients, that we must study books and hear lectures, before we can be sure that it is safe to eat a potato.

I, for my part, wonder how our grandfathers and great-grandfathers, those tough old fellows, kept soul and body together. They ate their victuals, and went about their business. It is a positive fact, they had no dietetics-they had no system-Heavens and earth! is it possible? Yes, they had no such thing as a system, that necromantic machine which carries every thing onward nowadays. They ate whatever they wanted, and as much as they wanted, never troubled themselves about physiology, and did not know whether they had one stomach or half a dozen. They had no such scientific lights to illuminate the dark subjects of chewing and swallowing, as their more knowing descendants possess: they never thought of opening their mouths by rule, or wagging their jaws by the pendulum of a clock, or weighing their bread by half ounces, or philosophizing upon fried pancakes and roasted pig's tails, or smelling alcohol in cider, or snuffing poison in a cup of coffee, or cogitating upon the gastric juice, digestion, chylification: and doctoring and coddling their stomachs in the ten thousand delightful scientific ways that modern systemmongers have invented.

Our ancestors were certainly unfortunate, and it is impossible not to pity their ignorance. They lived to ninety, and never suspected they were poisoning themselves all their lifetime. Never shall I forget the nervous horror of my old grandmother when she came home from one of the lectures of Dr. Sawdust, who had been proving that coffee was poison. The old lady had drank four cups a day ever since she was ten years old. She immediately clapped on her spectacles, sat down with a piece of chalk, and made a calculation of the quantity. She could hardly believe her eyes when she discovered that she had swallowed seven thousand three hundred and eighty-eight gallons of poison!" Better late than never, she exclaimed, "I won't be poisoned any longer, not I!" And so, at the age of ninety, she reforms her diet, fully persuaded that to go on drinking coffee would kill her sooner or later. Another old lady, on hearing that tea was intoxicating, had nearly gone into fits, and is in great affliction at the thought that she has been fuddled every day for sixty years without knowing any thing about it.

With the great abundance of wisdom upon these matters that we are now blessed with, prospects are surely very encouraging. If we believe the vegetable diet wiseacres, who of course know all about it, human life is to