KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



325 



more thorough conviction that we were 

 reading what was true. Had the authorgone 

 a step or two further still, we could have fol- 

 lowed him with confidence. Had he predicted 

 the absolute annihilation of matter, we could 

 have substantiated his statement by the words 

 of Scripture—" They shall perish, but Thou 

 remainest ; yea, all of them shall be changed 

 and folded up as a vesture ; but Thou art the 

 same, and thy years fail not. 1 ' 



Again, we say that we deeply value this 

 admirable book, as a tractate for the times. 

 It should be peculiarly useful to those poets 

 who are constantly raving about the beauty, 

 the glory, the immensity, and the divinity of 

 matter. Each and all are palpable delusions ; 

 since matter is neither beautiful, nor glorious, 

 nor immense, nor divine. It will show him 

 that the glory of the moon, the planets, and 

 the stars may be compared to the effects of 

 morning or evening sunshine upon the towers 

 of an infirmary, a prison, or some giant city 

 of sin— lending a false lustre to objects which 

 in themselves are horrible or foul. 



These remarks are very sensible; and 

 equally correct. Visionary views are at best 

 but fallacious. There is no stability in them. 

 They fail us in a trying hour. Whereas, to 

 look beyond the eye is as delightful an occu- 

 pation as it is profitable for our welfare. 



Sleep is sweet to a person who thus thinks. 

 He sinks to his rest with gratitude, and 

 awakens with feelings of love and praise. 

 Principles like these will never make a man 

 a bad citizen, a disagreeable companion, a 

 cruel husband, or a false friend. Oh— no ! 



COURAGE, MY LADS! 



BY ELIZA COOK. 



All's for the best ! Be sanguine and cheerful, 



Trouble and sorrow are friends in disguise, 

 Nothing but folly goes faithless and fearful, 



Courage for ever is happy and wise. 

 All's for the best, if man did but know it, 



Providence wishes us all to be blest ; 

 This is no dream of the pundit or poet, 



Heaven is gracious, and — all's for the best. 



All's for the best ! Set this on your standard, 



Soldier of sadness, or pilgrim of Love, 

 Who to the shores of despair may have wandered, 



A way-wearied swallow or heart-stricken dove. 

 All's for the best ! be a man but confiding, 



Providence tenderly governs the rest, 

 And the frail bark of His creature is guiding 



Wisely and warily, all for the best. 



All's for the best ! Then fling away terrors, 



Meet all your fears and your foes in the van ; 

 And in the midst of your dangers or errors 



Trust like a child, while you strive like a man. 

 All's for the best ! unbiassed, unbounded, 



Providence reigns from the East to the West ; 

 And, by both wisdom and mercy surrounded, 



Hope and be happy that — all's for the best. 



A CRUISE IN A LOBSTER SMACK ; 



SHOWING 

 HOW LONDON IS SUPPLIED WITH LOBSTERS.* 



On a beautiful evening, my dear sir, 

 towards the end of August 1847, I went on 

 board the fine cutter " Uzziel," Capt. John 

 Harnden, belonging to, and built at the port 

 of Salcombe. I had been invited by theCaptain 

 to take a cruise with him to the coast of 

 France, and see how the lobsters (which are 

 displayed in the various fishmongers' shops in 

 London) are obtained. 



This vessel is a very handsome model, 

 an exceedingly fast sailer, and very beau- 

 tifully fitted-up as a gentleman's yacht. 

 She forms one of a fleet of six handsome 

 cutters, owned by the two brothers John and 

 Edwin Harnden, who each command one of 

 them ; while the others are sailed by their 

 brothers-in-law and other relatives. 



At four o'clock the next morning, we got 

 under weigh ; and with a fresh breeze from 

 the north-west were soon outside the harbour 

 of Salcombe, and held, at the rate of nine 

 miles an hour, a good course for the sale of 

 Ushant. On looking behind us, the view pre- 

 sented by the mouth of the harbour ; the high 

 and rugged cliffs (against which the sea was 

 dashing with tremendous force), and the bold 

 and lofty promontory of the Bolt Head, with 

 its topmost crags just tipped by the rising 

 sun — was magnificent in the extreme. 



To seaward, a large fleet of trawlers, coast- 

 ing craft, and other vessels, as well as some 

 large ships, were pitching and tumbling 

 about in the heavy swell that from its uninter- 

 rupted course across the broad Atlantic, rolls 

 so tremendously in this part of the Channel. 

 As soon as all things were made snug on deck, 

 some fishing tackle was got out ; from this 

 I selected a line, and having baited the hook, 

 with a strip cut from the tail of a fresh 

 mackerel (called by fishermen a last), I soon 

 had it towing some two hundred feet astern, 

 and in less than five minutes a fine mackerel 

 was jumping and struggling on the deck. 

 This sport I continued with excellent luck, 

 until breakfast time, when we were sum- 

 moned below to partake of some of these 

 delicious fish. One of the crew, who officiated 

 as cook, had fried them in a manner that no 

 professor of the culinary art (not even ex- 

 cepting Soyer, of gastronomic notoriety) 

 need have blushed to have owned as his 

 performance. This fish (the mackerel) is 

 the most delicate that swims, either in fresh 

 or salt water ; and can only be eaten in perfec- 



* This cruise lasted three weeks ; and I propose 

 furnishing you with a very interesting and ex- 

 tended account of it. When Our Journal re- 

 appears — may it live for ever ! — I will send you 

 the continuation. — C.F.T.Y. 



