lmy gale!
The Halcyons call, ye Lusians spread the sail!
Appeased, old Ocean now shall rage no more;
Haste, point our bowsprit for yon shadowy shore.
Soon shall the transports of your natal soil
O'erwhelm in bounding joy the thoughts of every toil."

* * * * *

THE END.

As a man-of-war that sails through the sea, so this earth that sails
through the air. We mortals are all on board a fast-sailing,
never-sinking world-frigate, of which God was the shipwright; and she
is but one craft in a Milky-Way fleet, of which God is the Lord High
Admiral. The port we sail from is for ever astern. And though far out
of sight of land, for ages and ages we continue to sail with sealed
orders, and our last destination remains a secret to ourselves and our
officers; yet our final haven was predestinated ere we slipped from the
stocks at Creation.

Thus sailing with sealed orders, we ourselves are the repositories of
the secret packet, whose mysterious contents we long to learn. There
are no mysteries out of ourselves. But let us not give ear to the
superstitious, gun-deck gossip about whither we may be gliding, for, as
yet, not a soul on board of us knows--not even the Commodore himself;
assuredly not the Chaplain; even our Professor's scientific surmisings
are vain. On that point, the smallest cabin-boy is as wise as the
Captain. And believe not the hypochondriac dwellers below hatches, who
will tell you, with a sneer, that our world-frigate is bound to no
final harbour whatever; that our voyage will prove an endless
circumnavigation of space. Not so. For how can this world-frigate prove
our eventual abiding place, when upon our first embarkation, as infants
in arms, her violent rolling--in after life unperceived--makes every
soul of us sea-sick? Does not this show, too, that the very air we here
inhale is uncongenial, and only becomes endurable at last through
gradual habituation, and that some blessed, placid haven, however
remote at present, must be in store for us all?

Glance fore and aft our flush decks. What a swarming crew! All told,
they muster hard upon eight hundred millions of souls. Over these we
have authoritative Lieutenants, a sword-belted Officer of Marines, a
Chaplain, a Professor, a Purser, a Doctor, a Cook, a Master-at-arms.

Oppressed by illiberal laws, and partly oppressed by themselves, many
of our people are wicked, unhappy, ineffi