of their number so ill, that we are told they
all made a very bad dinner. On their arrival
at Romsey in the evening, we are, however,
happy to find that they made a good supper
on eels, boiled chickens, and a couple of
lobsters, together with good wine. Having
carefully inquired of Sir. Johnson, the
excellent landlord, the way they should take
from Romsey to Gosport, and moreover
having engaged a guide, they set out; but
parting with the latter too soon, " we
came to a large common, where we
mistook our road, and wandered about." How
curious these repeated engagements of guides,
and mistakes as to the way, seem to us!
In the Gentleman's Magazine only a month
or two after this tour was made, we find a
short journal of a visit to the lakes, when
the travellers, after visiting the notabilities
of Derbyshire, breakfasted the next morning
at Manchester, dined at Wigan, and, " passing
through Preston, we were led out of the way
by the guide, till it was quite dark, and we
wandered about all night, and over many
strange places, and had several disagreeable
falls with our horses, but at last arrived safe
at Lancaster by the dawn of day."

Not quite so bewildered were our excursion
train on the wilds of Hampshire. Some
country folk at length put them in the right
way, and they reached Wickham with
appetites remarkably keen. Happily, there was
a good dinner at hand to satisfy them; and
then, with only two or three chances of over-
turning, they arrived at Gosport.

It is amusing to perceive the distaste of
these worthy people to sea-port towns.
According to their experience, the inns were
indifferent, the cooking bad; neither would
the streets permit the stately procession
of ladies and gentlemen two and two,
like the Parade at Bath. Indeed,
notwithstanding the popularity of the navy and of
brave Admiral Vernon, and our invincible
Hawke, and the comparative unpopularity of
the land service in the reign of George the
Second, it is amusing to perceive how, after
all, the sea, and the shipping, and the gallant
tar, were alike looked upon as something
unpleasantly out of the common. Gentle zephyrs
were the fashion then, not rude Boreas;
equipages drawn by four or six long-tailed horses,
not the light barque. How could powdered,
periwiged, stiff-skirted, high-heeled gentlemen,
whose very walk was regulated by the
stop-watch, feel aught of sympathy with the
sailor, wild as the breezes, and rough as the
shingles of his chosen element? Thus,
although the bad cooking had certainly some
share, we find our pleasure party—after
visiting the sights of Gosport and
Portsmouth—after marvelling at the batteries, and
surveying doubtless with no slight wonder
Admiral Warren's flagship, the Invincible—
yet preparing to depart on their homeward
journey with little regret.

Petersfield, Lippock, Cubham, and lastly
Richmond, where a number of London friends
and relatives had been invited to meet them,
were the last stages of this memorable journey,
and occupied two days— a joyful meeting;
for "we dined together with great pleasure,
recounted some of the incidents of our travels,
and inquired into the state of our absent
friends, who were, thank God, all well; so,
after tea, we set out for our respective places
of abode in this great city."

Here, on the morrow, the unpacking being
completed, the ladies received the visits
and congratulations of their neighbours
on their safe return, after the perils of
their long journey; while the gentlemen, at
the Amsterdam Coffee-house, received the
welcomes of their friends, and, deep in discussion
of the Pelham administration and the
treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, almost forgot that
they had been ruralising for five long
weeks, as members of a family little excursion
train.

Two, however, did not forget their journey;
cousin Sam, who became sober and
sentimental, and soon after took a wife; and the
writer, who pleasantly amused his leisure the
following week by detailing at length this
Family Excursion in Seventeen Hundred and
Forty-eight.

WHAT MAY BE OURS.

          THOU that dost pine, indeed,
For wealth more precious than rich gems or gold,
Learn how to seek it ere thy heart grows cold;
          And take this for thy creed;—
Not who love us, but whom we love are ours.
So shalt thou know thy yet undreamed-of powers.
          Be thine no doubting mind;
More than thine eager hands can grasp,
More than thine outstretched arms can clasp,
          Thou needest, and shalt find.
Thy treasure shall be countless and unknown;
For, all it loves, the heart doth make its own.

          Thou shalt break off the chains
That bind thee to the present; for, though Time,
     Between us and his elder-born, uprears,
     Like a huge bulwark, days and months and years,
          The bond of brotherhood remains;
And o'er that towering wall we, if we will, can climb.
          Thus, more than those who share
          With thee the gentle air,
Shall yield to the strong magic of the spell
That lies in love, and in thy heart shall dwell.

And distance shall not limit thy deep love,
   If from the human flowers that flourish there
Some wanderer chance, like Noah's gentle dove,
   To thee a token of their bloom to bear.
          Far-off their home may be,
     Beneath the glory of an eastern sky,
     Or where bright isles amid blue waters lie
          And thou may'st never see
The forms that are their spirits' earthly shrine;
But oh! if thou canst love them, they are thine.
       Yes! thine to joy in, thine to prize,
          To weep for—if dark years
        Should dim the light that on them lies—
          But they are worth thy tears!