t, and every eye welcomed Manilla,
as they ran in for repairs, after cruising about for months without
taking a drop of oil. Harry was delighted with the prospect before him,
and laying the little curiosity, which would remind him of a sad event
in his voyage, away with his bible, he entered upon the duties before
him with his whole heart, realizing the visions of his earlier days, and
gaining a thorough knowledge of--the life of a sailor boy.

CHAPTER VI.

SOME DAYS ARE BORN OF SORROW.

"The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrows are unknown."

ANONYMOUS.

"Through sorrow's night, and danger's path,
Amid the deepening gloom,
Ye children of a heavenly king
Are marching to the tomb."

H. KIRKE WHITE.

It is a destiny, that every life be, to a greater or less degree,
fraught with that heart-purifying element, which we term sorrow. And who
would have it otherwise? Who would glide passively along the bright
river of smiles, without one taste of that chiefest of disciplines,
sorrow? How grateful should we be to Him who has permitted us to drink
of the same cup with his only Son! for he was a "man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief." Who is so blind that will not see the kind
designs of our Father, in the disposition of those works of his hands
which he pronounced good. Truly His eye is all-seeing; the overflow of
his tender mercies toward the children of men are unbounded. What cell
of goodness is there within the human heart, of which the breath of
sorrow cannot raise the valve? In a word, what countless numbers of
souls have been stayed in their mad career, have been saved from eternal
destruction, through the chastening rod of the Lord.

It was the morning after the sailing of the Nautilus; the Sea-flower had
arisen with the sun, and calling for old Nep, as was her wont, to
accompany her on her morning's walk, she tripped lightly along, humming
a farewell to the last altheas, as they nodded their shrivelled heads,
in view of their departure; but their words of adieu were made brief, by
a voice as of one in distress; and coming near, it proved to be the
musical Vingo, trilling the wild melodies of his old Virginia days.

"Good morning, Vingo; you must have been up a long time to have been
away down to the shore; you must take it easier, and get more sleep.
Even old Nep dislikes to leave his warm kennel this cool morning, for he