William Altair ; or, Running away to Sea. By Mrs.
Henry Wood. (Griffith and Farran.)—It is a matter of curious conjecture with us what can have raised in the mind of Mrs Wood such a terror of the sea. If ten of her own children had ran off to seek their fortunes—and that is hardly probable—it would scarcely account for the phenomenon. We have four families in this story. In each a boy goes to sea,—one by consent of his friends, and he prospers,—one that he may learn what a hard life it is, and he never goes again,—and two run away and come to an untimely end. We cannot blame them much. When William Allair bogs to go to sea, he is told, "a sailor must bear all weathers and all temperatures. The fierce cold of the Poles may stagnate the blood in his veins, and the burning sun of the tropics must glare on him with unmitigated heats," &c., ad infinitum. Copious maternal eloquence of this sort would send anybody to sea.