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GORCUM .-- THE TOUR OF THE VIRTUES: A PHILOSOPHER'S TALE.
IT was a bright and cheery morning as they glided by Gorcum.

The boats pulling to the shore full of fishermen and peasants in their national costume; the breeze freshly rippling the waters; the lightness of the blue sky; the loud and laughing voices from the boats,--all contributed to raise the spirit, and fill it with that indescribable gladness which is the physical sense of life.
The tower of the church, with its long windows and its round dial, rose against the clear sky; and on a bench under a green bush facing the water sat a jolly Hollander, refreshing the breezes with the fumes of his national weed.
"How little it requires to make a journey pleasant, when the companions are our friends!" said Gertrude, as they sailed along.

"Nothing can be duller than these banks, nothing more delightful than this voyage." "Yet what tries the affections of people for each other so severely as a journey together ?" said Vane.

"That perpetual companionship from which there is no escaping; that confinement, in all our moments of ill-humour and listlessness, with persons who want us to look amused--ah, it is a severe ordeal for friendship to pass through! A post-chaise must have jolted many an intimacy to death." "You speak feelingly, dear father," said Gertrude, laughing; "and, I suspect, with a slight desire to be sarcastic upon us.