I think even angels with pleasure will look
On the bright shining lines in that beautiful book!
OLD YEAR.
O children! My moments are passing away,
But hear the last words which the Old Year can say.
You will soon a new book, on a new year, begin,
Pray God to preserve it from records of sin!
Oh! Ask that His grace may your spirits pervade,
Whether working or playing, in sunshine or shade,
That the Lord and His angels with pleasure may look
On the bright shining lines in each beautiful book!
THE
HARTLEY BROTHERS;
OR,
THE KNIGHTS OF SAINT JOHN.
[CHAPTER I.]
STARTING FOR INDIA.
"FAREWELL Clarence! Ida—good-bye! God's blessing rest on those whom we leave behind us!"
There is the last grasp of the hand—the last wistful gaze on familiar faces—and the bridge is raised, the connecting link with the shore broken. The little crowd assembled on the platform give a faint cheer, and handkerchiefs are waved, as the vessel, starting on her long voyage to India, slowly moves forward through the mass of craft of various kinds that half block up the River Thames. The brown water curdles into cream-like foam under the paddle-wheels, and the smoke from the funnel streams backwards.
Each one on board is taking a last look of old London with her dingy Tower, and the friends lining the shore, who may never be seen again. Now faces can be distinguished no more; the "Alligator" increases her speed as her course is more clear; some of the passengers dive down below into their respective cabins, for a drizzling rain is falling, and soon Loudon herself can no more be viewed behind the forest of masts, swathed in her dun mantle of smoky mist.