uch a vehicle for the conveyance of human beings--and those who have
never experienced such a transit, can form no adequate conception of the
misery which it exhibits. Let them, however, imagine a small and dirty
cabin, into which no one is admitted save by the companion-door and a
small sky-light that cannot be opened in rough weather--let them
imagine, if they can, the "villanous compound of smells," produced by
confined air, the flavour of bilge water, agitated in the hold of the
ship, and diffused through every creaking crevice, and pitch, and
effluvia of rancid salt meat and broth, and the products of universal
sea-sickness, altogether inevitable in such circumstances--let them
figure such a confined hole filled with human beings, crammed into
smaller holes all around, called beds, or laid on shakedowns upon the
floor, or stretched upon the lockers, in that state of despondency which
overwhelming sickness induces;--and they have a picture of the Good
Intent's cabin and _state-room_ during the voyage to which I refer. Nor
was this all. The weather was boisterous, being the vernal equinox; the
winds cross and tempestuous; and the waves of the sea so tremendous that
the little vessel sunk, and rose, and rolled, as if each succeeding
shock were the last ere she sank for ever into the roaring abyss; while
each convulsion of the bark called forth involuntary moans and shrieks
of distress, which were heard commingled with the whistling of the
tempest, and the dash of the waves, that ever and anon burst on and
swept over the deck. And thus, for the space of fourteen days went the
Good Intent and her inmates, tossed to and fro on the German Ocean, with
no comfort to mitigate the extreme of such unwonted sufferings, save the
rough but hearty kindness of the skipper and crew, when their cares on
deck left them a moment to go below, and offer any attention in their
power. I have made many rough voyages since the time alluded to; but
this one dwells on my memory like the visions in a wild and troubled
dream, surpassing all I have since weathered in intensity of horror and
dismay.

At length, the expected haven came in sight; and we entered it--safe but
sad enough, the Good Intent entered the Water of Leith at morning tide,
and my childish wonderment was strangely excited by what seemed to my
inexperienced eye a forest of masts and "leviathans afloat," as we were
towed through among the vessels in harbour, until, amidst bawling a