Newspaper Page Text
©DA iLBWIJiS,
for Richard*’ Weekly Oazetto.
BOSTON CORRESPONDENCE.
> Boston, Nov. 25, 18-19.
Friends: —After a separation of some
months lam again with yon. Since last
we met many changes have occurred here,
with tile most important of which you are
familiar, so I will not weary you by a re
petition. hut will leave the Past and pro
ceed to the actualities of the Present. And
first comes the
tailors’ strike.
Some months ago the Jour. Tailors of
this city, finding that ihey were fast merg
ing into alms-house poverty, and deeming
it unjust that they should starve while
their employers were living in luxurious
ease, in palaces built from theirhard labors,
stiuck for higher wages. Through the in
fluence and exertions of a number of phi
lanthropists, an association was formed,
called the ‘Jour. Tailors’ Association,”
the object of which is to make the work
man hi-* own employer. It lias succeeded
finely, up to the present time, and from ap
pearances, it will have a thriving existence
hereafter. The success of the experiment
occasioned the
MISTERS’ STRIKE.
The craft, whether justly or unjustly, of
course l cannot say, having never been
initiated into the mysteries of printing, de
mand twenty-eight cents the thousand ems,
instead of twenty-five, the price given for
years past. Meeting with but slight suc
cess in their ctTorts to bring the employers
to terms, they have hired a hall in Wash
ington street, where they assemble in the
morning and evening, and discuss the
method to be pursued. By invitation, I
visited them a few evenings since. When
I entered, John S. Dwight, Esq., present
Editor of the three Socialist columns of the
Chronatype was speaking, Ilis remarks
were directed toward one point—the for
mation of a Printers’ Association. He ad
vised those out of employment to club to
gether—form a joint-stock company —is-
sue shares, which each should receive as
certificates for money invested—hire a large
building in the vicinity of some country
town, and then, after purchasing materials,
go to work. Every member should re
ceive wages in proportion to his faithful
ness and ability : and then at the end of
the year, after the payment of expenses,
an equal distribution of the profits should
be made—first, however, reserving a cer
tain per centage to he used as a Life and
Health Insurance Fund. He thought if
they would secure a few acres of land with
their building, it would he well, as nothing
conduced so much to the happiness and
health of the working man as alternation
in labor, which might thereby be secured.
From the enthusiasm iwith which his ob
servations were received, I conclude that
his proposition and suggestions will be
put in execution. A-number of speakers
followed—all of whom endorsed the senti
ments previously uttered.
THE MERCANTILE T.IISRARY ASSOCIATION.
The annual course of Lectures before
the above named society, was begun
Thursday evening, the 15th, by an address
from the Hon. Horace Mann, and a poem
by J. G. Saxe. Both efforts were consid
ered the ne phis ultra of excellence. The
former has too firmly infixed his truths in
the hearts of all thinkers, to he in the least
nti’ected by any Relevant criticism. Many
have tried their powers of detraction, but
not one has succeeded. The reason is, his
facts, elicited while he was Secretary of
the Board of Education, are true seeds of
knowledge, as tire great growth of the
plants intellectual w ill hereafter prove.
While leaving a political meeting, some
evenings since, with a friend, I came in
contact with a person of heavy stature,
whose bright features and bushy whiskers
were overtopped bv a cap trimmed with
. untanned hear skin. “Do you know
him V’ asked my companion. I answered
in the negative. “That is Saxe, the poet.' 1
6tid he, “author of those sparkling h 1.-
mical bon mots in the Post .” 1 took anoth
er look, and certainly should have sup
posed him a native Hoosier, rather than
the genius in whose active brain originate 1
s une of the wittiest things that have ap
peared in the Knickerbocker.
PEACE MEETING.
Thursday evening last, the delegates to
tiie late “ World's Convention,” at Paris,
were welcomed hy a respectable cor.course
(too respectable in pointof numbers) of our
citizens. Josiah Quincy, Jr., presided.--
Speeches were made hy Burnt. Dr. Allen
of Northboro', Amasa Walker, J. F. Clark,
lion. Amos Tuck and others. The speech
i t the evening, was made by the first
named. All the others seemed flourishes,
inteu led like variations in a piece of mu
sic, merely for embellishment.
Next year the assemblage is to take
place at Frankfort-on-the-Rlaine, when
preparations are already being made for
an immense gathering. It it supposed
that more than one hundred will go from
the United States, thus quadruplicating the
number to Paris. A friend of the parties
lias intimated to me that Charles Sumner
and Dr. Howe will join the party, but 1
think nothing positive has been decided
upon hy those gentlemen.
To-night, Charlotte Cushman is to make
he first appearance in this city since her
return. The boards of the Boston Theatre
are to have the honor of herqneenly tread.
She greatly incensed our managers by her
cool refusal of all propositions of engage
ment, so much so indeed, that it is ihought
their influence, negatively ajiplied, will
give her rather slim houses. As the Yan
kees say, she prefers to go ahead on her
own lrrok.
1 forgot to say, that Tick nor & Cos., of
which fmri .1. T Fields, the joet, is a
i partner, have in press the “ Writings of i
J. G Saxe.”
Yours, sincerely,
Bostoniem.
id ] A j; >. IDA jj ~Y.
ISAAC BABBITT.
Franklin has been sneered at by some
profound philosophers as too mechanical,
too material, too earthly. Dr. Franklin’s
was a truly American life, one of anew
j type, and destined, perhaps, to benefit the
human race as much as one of abstract
speculation, or monkish spirituality—if
not more. Whitefiel I converted some sin
; tiers, but Franklin, setting people at work
land raising them above temptations—what
i a multitude of sins in all coming ages he
; will prevent ! Franklin’s philosophy is
the conquest of matter by mind; and if
Goil displays his greatness by creating
and governing matter, surely the conquest
of it is, at least, as noble as disputing about
that which matters nothing. But this is
digression.
Who is Isaac Babbitt? He is a Boston
man of the self-made, Ben Franklin sort.
A solid, substantial, lion-1 i ke, wholesome
looking man, fifty or so, and flourishing.
He started in life there as a watchmaker
and goldsmith, in which he succeeded well.
Feeling that too close application was in
juring his health, beset himself about some
chemical experiments, which required more
action, and resulted in the manufacture of
Britannia ware, which he established in
this town. His improvements in this im
portant article of domestic use soon drove
the British ware almost entirely out of the
market, and excited the wonder and as
tonishment of the London manufacturers.
Finding, as is too common with inventors,
that the profits of his improvements were
I mostly the prey of others, he applied him
self to brass founding, in which his suc
cess was so marked that it attracted the
attention of Mr. Alger, the South Boston
Founder, who took a large contract of
casting cannon, for government, relying on
Mr. Babbitt’s skill to carry him through it.
Ilis confidence was not misplaced, for Mr.
Babbitt suceecded in obviating the difficul
ties of the business and casting several
hundred pieces of heavy bronze ordnance
of an excellence never before attained.
He next turned his attention to the re
duction of friction in heavy machinery.—
Friction is the destroyer of motion, and
the foe of engines. Nature, in her ma
chines, has taken wonderful painstc guard
against it. She not only supplies a nice
lubricating fluid, the sinovium, to all the
joints of her animals, hut she sheathes the
articulations with a very smooth coating,
called a cartilage. Were the bones allow
ed to rub and grind together, they would,
by any rapid motion, burn through and
set the animal's fat on fire. A race horse,
running his mile in two minutes, without
cartilages, would set himself in a blaze.—
But who shall give cartilages to the iron
horse ?
Mr. Babbitt has done it. It had been
long known that any metal runs easier on
another than on itself. But it remained
for Mr. Babbitt to discover an alloy of soil
metals, which being confined in the jour
nal boxes by a lip of fillet of the hard
metal admirably serves the purpose of a
cartilage. With this lining the journal
may fit perfectly snug, and runs with very
little oil, and almost no heat or friction.—
The locomotive which on the old plan
could only run eight or ten thousand miles
before its boxes were worn out, can now
run eighty thousand, and he as good as
new, or if by any accident the lining should
get out of order, it can he cheaply replaced.
The saving of power, though not a very
large percentage, is of immense impor
tance; even the saving of sixty percent,
of the oil, which it effects, amounts to an
annual fortune on any railroad. This al
loy consists of ninety-six parts of tin, four
of copper, and eight of antimony, ft has
been adopted by the Government of the
■ United States, and its use is very extensive
in Europe. In fast, it makes anew era
in marhivery.
The happy competence which this great
invention ha*, seen red to Mr. Babbitt, has
hy no means secluded him from his labors
in practical science. With his new means
he has set himself to the task of improving
The great staple comforts of life. Cleanli
ness is a most important condition of health,
comfort and intellect, and by practical
chemical inquiry, Mr. Babbitt has effected
a most decided and palpable improvement
in the means of securing it so that the en
gineer will find it as much to his advantage
in “babbitting” himself as his engine.—
The preparation which Mr. Batibitt calls
he “ Cytherean Cream of Soaji,” little as
it may e.xcite obseiration, and much as it
may sound irkc tire thousand and one
trumpery cosmetics that crowd the belle's
or the dandy's toilet table, is really an era
of geneial domestic happiness, a victory
over one of its fellest foes, and a blessing
in store fur the daily life of everybody. It
is a perfectly eflectual purifier without be
ing a destroyer. It seizes every particle
of tilth, excretion or miasma which may
attach to the coarsest or most delicate skin,
and carries it oil, leaving the wonderful !
tissue as hale and beautiful as if fresh
from the Creator, and diffusing through the
w hole form the glow of anew life.
On such a subject, of course we can pro
duce nothing like conviction in advance of
experience. But curiosity will lead to ex
perience and experience to increased com
i/isiaw ©M22iii a
foit everywhere, in the almost religious
oidinance of daily ablution. As Mr. Bab
bitt's name is already incorporated among
the common nouns and verbs of the Eng
lish language, and is likely to become a
household word, we have thought this
sketch of the man and his doings might be
interesting.— Taunton Daily Gazette.
SPANISH CALLS.
The indoor manners of the Malaguenos
are, I have said, simple and cordial, in a
degree. You start with your friend, upon
a round of visiting. You will be strongly
disappointed, if you imagine that it is a
matter of routine and visiting cards, as
at home, It is a thing, on the contrary,
not to he lightl y disposed of, and one which
from the time it occupies, would be quite
serious, were it not so exceedingly agreea
ble. You have threaded a half-score of
crooked, narrow streets, perhaps, when
your guide rings at a vejy unpromising
looking’ large gate. In a moment you
hear the clicking of a latch, and a wicket
opens before you. You enter, and hear a
voice from the upper regions, calling out,
‘■Quien vicnc ?’’ or, more shortly, “Qttien 7’
; (Who comes? or Who ?) You are in the
! centre of a court, and as ycur companion
replies, “ Gente de paz,” or “ Paz,~’
(“Peaceful people,’’ or “Peace!’) you
look tip, and see the servant in an upper
gallery, with the string in his hand which
has raised the latch for you. Your friend
makes the proper inquiries, and, in a mo
ment, you find yourself in at; ante-cham
ber on the first or second floor, from which
you are ushered into the receiving room.
In all probability, you find all the ladies
of the family together, in plain morning
dress, and busy at some labor of the needle
from which, no matter, how homely and
industrious it be. your presence does not
disturb them. The endorsement of the
gentleman who presents you, admits you
at once, ad eundem, and you are made at
ease, accordingly. Do not be surprised, if
a fair maiden insists upon bestowing your
hat out of harms’ way; nor if - another,
with her own delicate hands, should place
the most luxurious seat in the room at
vour disposal. Perhaps, in a large balco
ny-window, overhangmg the street, there
sits, like a sweet saint in a niche, a fair
worker in embroidery. It may he, she is
the comeliest, and the light by chance, is
good and well-adjusted, so that you will
find the vacant chair, by her side, the
place which of all others is the most agree
able to you. What you may talk of con
cerns no one, hut prejudiced as yon may
be. in favor of the sterner elegance of the
pure Castilian, it will he strange if your
first experience does not reconcile you,
straightways, to the soft murdering of con
sonants of which the Amlalusan beauties
are so guilty. When you rise to retire,
you will be astonished that your morning
has gone; but you have been made so per
fectly arid pleasantly at home, that you
cannot resist the warm invitation to return,
and will, no doubt, find yourself again in
the balcony, before the flowers have faded,
which were budding when you first saw
them there.
ALMOST A FIGHT.
The New York correspondent of the
Charleston Evening News, relates the fol
lowing interesting incident:
In conversation a day or two since with
one of our gallant naval officers, he com
municated to me a thrilling incident, con
nected with the war w hich did not break
out between the United States and Great
Britain on the North Eastern Boundary
question a few years since. You will re
collect that at one time a rupture between
the two countries, on that subject, was
considered inevitable by a great many
whose opinions were entitled to consul a
tion. About sunrise on one fine morning,
a frigate of our Navy espied a large ship
on the horizon, which, after a few hours’
sailing, proved to be a first class frigate of
the liiiiish Navy, belonging to the West
India squadron. By an extraordinary co
incidence the commander of the British
vessel had a few days previously hailed a
ship, the captain of which informed him
that the United States had declared war
against England oil the Boundary question,
and the captain of a vessel, which the
American commander had hailed, reported
that England li.nl declared war against the
United States. Thus the two commanders
were under the impression that the respec
tive countries were at war with each other
and they prepared for a fight. Simultan
eously, and as if by concert, the American
and British lings were hoisted, and soon
after the order to “Prepare tor action!
double shot tlie guns!” was given on
board each vessel. In five minutes both
were ready to commence tiie work of death
and destruction.
The vessels were within miles of
each other, and then commenced a trial of
| seamanship, of nautical skill, the two ves
i sels using every artifice and every expedi
ent to get to win iward of each other, in
order to select a position that would enable
the successful one to do the other the most
injury by a single broadside. For six
long hours, which howevvr passed over
remaikably swift, in the opinion of the two
commanders and the crews, did the two
frigates strive in this way. Never were
orders given in a clearer voice, or more
readily or willingly executed. But it be
came apparent that in sailing qualities, the
American was far superior to the British
frigate, and that in another tack she
would accomplish what her commander
was so skilfully striving to do. She
“ bottled ship,” went around beautifully,
and directed her course towards the sup
posed enetny. Not a word was spoken or
even whispered by any of the officers or
crew of either vessel. The eyes of all
were intently and eagerly fixed on the
commanders, who, trumpet in hand, and
with sword hanging by their sides, orcu- ,
pied a position where they could he seen
by all, and from which their orders would
he heard by all. The gunners were at
their guns, the matches were in their hands
all ready to be instantaneously applied.—
All were as silent as death itself. And
now the vessels ate quite close, and the
order to fire is about to be given—a mo
ment of dreadful suspense ensues—the
American commander applies the trumpet
to his month—a shower of death is about
to be sent against the devoted frigate—he
speaks—“ Frigate ahoy!’ No answer
for a moment. “Frigate ahoy !” Awful
suspense. “Holloo!” was the answer at
last. “Any news from England?”
“ No,” was responded in a deep, clear and
sonorous voice. The crew gave vent to a
little of their pent up excitement. “Where
are you bound?” “Havana.” “Frigate
ahoy !” said the British commander in his
turn. “Halloo,” was the response.—
“ Any news from the United States?”—
“ No.” A pause which lasted for a lew
minutes. “Where are you bound?”—
“Havana.” Simultaneously a bustle en
sued on board both frigate. In defiance of
discipline, the men left their guns, and it
was fully a quarter of an hour before they
could satisfy themselvesthM they were not
going into an engagement, or that they
could listen to the orders given them.—
Wishing each other a prosperous passage,
the two vessels altered their courses and
headed for the poit of their destination.—
In a few days they both reached Havana,
the American frigate some twelve hours in
advance. When the British vessel got to
anchor, she was saluted by the American,
and the compliment was returned. In the
evening the two commanders supped to
gether, and communicated to each other
the inaccuracy of the intelligence which
had, by a singular coincidence, been con
veyed to both. “If you had fired a single
gun, said the American commander, I
would have fired a broadside into you.” —
“My crew.” said the British comman ler,
“ were at their posts, and prepared on the
first hostile demonstration to engage with
you.” What a bloody engagement would
uot that have been ? How many lives
would not have been lost, if a single shot
had been fired try either vessel on that oc
casion ? 1 need hardly say that the two
commanders “ made a night of it,” and
parted bosom friends in the morning.
ÜBIQUITY OF NEW ENGLANDERS.
Wherever the New Englander goes he
carries New England with him. New
England is his boast, his standard of per
fection, and “So they do in New Eng
land!” his confident answers to all objec
tors. Great as is our reverence for those
venerable men he rather wearies us with
his inexhaustible eulogy on the Pilgrim
Fathers, who, he seems to think, have for
gotten the whole United States. Nay, en
larging upon the somewhat complacent
notion of his ancestors, that God designed
for them, “his chosen people ” this Cana
an of the aboriginal heathen, he looks up
on the continent as his rightful heritage,
and upon the rest of us as Hittit"s, Jebu
sites, or people of a like termination,
whom he is commissioned to root out, ac
quiring our money, squatting on our wild
lands, monopolising our votes, and marry
ing our heiressess. Whence, or how jus
tly, lie derived his popular sobriquet, pass
es the guess of an antiquary ; hut certain
it is, ill at if he meets with a David, the
son of Jesse has often to take up the la
ment in a different sense from the original
—“1 am distressed for thee, iny Brother
Jonathan!” Better still, his sisters, nieces,
female cousins, flock on various honorable
pretexts to visit him amidst his new pos
sessions, where they own with no Sabine
reluctance the constraining ardor of our
unsophisticated chivalry; and happy is
ihe household over which a New England
Wife presides! blessed the child whose
cradle is rocked by the hand, whose slum
ber is hallowed by the prayers of a New
England mother! The order of Roman
policy is reversed. He conquered, and
then inhabited: the New Englander in
habits, then gains the mastery, not by
force of arms, but by mother-wit. steadi
ness, and thrift. That there should be
among us of the other races, a little occa
sional petulence, is not to be wondered at;
but it is superficial. The New Englander
goes forth not as a spy or an enemy, and
the gifts which he carries excite gratitude,
not fear, lie soon becomes identified with
his neighbors, their interests are soon his,
and the benefits of his enterprising clever
ness swell the advantage of the communi
ty where he has planted himself, thus tend
ing to produce a moral homogeneousness
throughout the confederacy. Yet let it he
remembered that this New England influ
ence. diffusing itself like noiseless, hut
transforming leaven through the recent and
future States, while it makes them precious
as allies, would also make them formida
ble as rivals, terrible as enemies. The
New Englander loses little of his main
characteristics by migration. He is as
shrewd, though not necessary, as econo
mical a calculator in the valley of the
Mississippi, as his brethren in the East,
and as brave as his fathers were at Lexing
ton or Charlestown.—G. \V. Bethu.ne.
What the Printers are Doing.—We
notice with pleasure that the Printers of
Pittsburgh and Allegheny are taking steps
for the organization of themselves into a
bond of Union for Protection. Avery en
thusiastic and hamonious meeting was
held on the 10th inst., and a committee ap
pointed to draft a Constitution and By-
Laws. The proceedings of the Boston
Printers’ Union were read, and high!) - ap
plauded. The meeting adjourned to meet
in one week, w ith the utmost good feeling
pervading every heart. Pittsburgh has
long needed an Association of this kind.
The Printers now on a strike in Boston,
are discussing the propriety of establishing
a Book and Job Printing office. They also
propose the publication of a large commer
cial paper—morning and evening. The
company, it is said, will consist of one
hundred men—among them men of ability
—who will each pay in the concern S3OO.
VARIETIES OF LIFE IN NEW
YORK,
If the places of instruction and amuse
ment open in New York are any indication
of the prosperity of the city, New York
was never better off than at present. Ev
ery taste may he gratified every evening of
the week. There are Praying Meetings for
the praying, Play-Houses for the play-go
ing, Music for those delighted with the
melody of sound, Dancing for the votaries
of the ball-room, Pictures for those who
would gratify the sight of their eyes, and
drink in the delicious beauty of the land
scape or the divine eimodiment of some
noble figure, wrought by the sculptor or
penciled by the painter. What, indeed, is
there not in our midst I Are vou sad, you
may seek the sympathies of lleligion in a
hundred Temples of Worship. Be ye Jews
or Gentiles, believers in the Trinity or the
Unity of the God-Head, in Purgatory, in
everlasting Perdition, or in a sudden trans
lated and permanent bliss from earth to
Heaven,—men of kindred creeds are at
your door. There are Bishops for those
who believe “there car, be no Church
without a Bishop,"’ “Presbyteries” for
those who believe in them, and “ Inde
pendents” for those who believe that ev
ery Church per se can elect its own Pas
tor. Welsh, Spanish, French, German,
Hebrew, Italian, ail congregate here in
their own places of worship, and sing the
praises of God in their own native tongue;
and, thanks to the perfect freedom of our
institutions, every one is protected in his
own faith, arid even allowed to be the most
uncompromising heretic and unbeliever, if
such are his fancies or the waywardness
of his more deliberate judgement. As in
religious creeds, so in everything else. Is
it the lecture room you would go to 1 Here
are Theology, Law, and Physic from the
g rain given without scruple, from the huge
boxes of the Allopath to the little end of
nothing from the pocket-book of the Ho
meopath. If you are Thompsonian, Chro
no-Thefmal, or Hydropath, here are schools
and Doctors at your door, everything from
“the bleeding and hot water ” of Dr. San
grado to the shower bath and wet blanket
of those who would roll you out and
sprinkle you as if a piece of broadcloth
sent to the Tailor. But, if you are wise,
good sirs, doctor yourselves by temp- rate
eating, drinking, and good consciences,
and, for the rest, “throw physic to the
dogs.” The minister you cannot dispose
of so summarily. lie,
“ By whom the violated law speaks out its tkun- I
ders,
And by whom, in stra'ns as sweet as angels use,
The Gospel whisper- peace,”
is to be cultivated as one “ ministering to
the mind diseased.” But, trust not too
much in him, for he is human : and re
member, in that upper world, whither we
al! are tending, men are to gi"e an account
for themselves. Be your own lawyer, too,
by keeping out of law. A spiders web,
a tangled skein of thread, are all plain
work compared with the Cretan labyrinth
of the law.—A'. Y. Express.
FAT MEN.
“There is something cordial in a fat
man. Everybody likes him, arid lie likes
everybody. Your Ishmaelilesare, in truth,
a bareboned tace ; a lank tribe they are—
all skeleton and bile. Food does a fat
man good; it clings to hint; it fructifies
upon him: he swells nobly out. and fills a.
generous spiace in life. He is a living,
walking minister of gratitude to the boun
ty of the earth, and the fullness thereof;
an incarnate testimony against the vani
ties of care; a radiant manifestation of the
wisdom of good humor. A fat man, there
fore, almost in virtue of being a fat man,
is, per sc, a popular man ; and commonly
he deserves his popularity. In a crowded
vehicle the fattest man will ever be most
ready to make room. Indeed, he seems
half sorry for his size, lest it be in the way
of others; but others would not have him
less than he is ; for his humanity is usual
ly commensurate with liis bulk. A fat
man has abundance of rich juices. The
hinges of his system are well oiled; the
springs of his being are noiseless; and so
he goes his way rejoicing, in full content
ment and placidity. * * * A fat mail
feels his position solid in the world ; he
knows that his being is cognisable; he
knows that he has a marked place in the
universe, and that he need take no extra
ordinary pains to advertise mankind that
he is among them; he knows that he is in
no danger of being overlooked. Your thin
man is uncertain,'and therefore he is un
easy. He may vanish any hour into
nothing; already he is almost a shadow,
and hence it is that he uses such laborious
efforts to convince you of bis existence; to
persuade you that he is actually some
thing; that he is more than an non-entity;
that he is a positive substance as well as
his corpulent fellow creature. * * * *
It really does take a deal of wrong to make
one actually hate a fat man; and if we
are not always so cordial to a thin man as
we ought to be, Christian charity should
take into account the force of prejudice
which we have to overcome against his
thinness. A fat man is the nearest to that
most pei feet of figures, a mathematical
sphere, a thin mail to that most limited of
of conceivable dimensions, a simple line.
A fat man is a being of harmonious vol
ume, and holds relations to to material uni
verse, in every direction; a thin man has
nothing but length ; a thin man, in fact,
is but the continuation of a point."- Giles.
The Post Offices at Eutaw, Randolph
countv. On , have been discontinued
Machine in the Human Frame.—
Very few, even mechanics, are aware how
much machinery there is in their own
bodies. Not only are there hinges and
joints in the bones, but there are valves in
the veins, a forcing pump in the heart, and
other curiosities. One of the muscles of
the eye forms a real pally. The bones
which support the body are made precise
ly in that form which has heen calculated
by mathematicians, to be strongest for pil
lars and supporting columns, that of hol
low cylinders.
On opening one of our exchanges
we discovered that the stars have existed
from the foundation of the world, that
oceans change their beds, rivers stray,
mountains are undermined, forests disap
pear, and cities rise in their places. Thank
[ ful for the information. A well conduct
ed paper.
Ts 1313 i Ji; if A SHL
.*•
CAI'T. RIGA IN PORT.
[From Melville's“Redburn : 11 is First Voyage.”]
j “Next day, my brother’s friend, whom I
: choose to call Mr. Jones, accompanied me
j down to the docks among the shipping, in
| order to get me a place. After a good deal
of searching, we lighted upon a ship for
i Liverpool, and found the captain in the cab
j in ; which was a very handsome one lined
j with mahogany and maple; and the stew
ard, an elegant looking mulatto in agorge
: ous turban, was setting out on a sort of
sideboard some dinner service which look
j ed like silver, but it was only Britania ware
highly polished.
“ As soon as I clapped n\y eyes on the
captain 1 thought to myself he was j list the
captain to suit me. He was a fine looking
man about forty, splendidly dressed, with
1 very black whiskers and very white teeth,
and what I took to be a fiee, flank look out
of a large hazel e>e. 1 liked him amazing
ly. He was promenading up and down
the cabin, humming some brisk air to him
self when we entered.
“ ‘Good morning, sir,’ said my friend.
“ ‘Good morning, good morning, sir,’ said
ihe captain. ‘Steward, chairs for the gen
tleman.’
‘“Oh ! never mind, sir,’ said Mr. Jones
rather taken aback by his extreme civility.
‘I merely called to see whether you want
a fine young lad to go to sea with you.
Here he is; he has long wanted to be a
sailor; and his friends have at last conclu
ded to let him go for one voyage, and see
how he likes it.’
•“All! indeed!’ said the captain, bland*
; iy, and looking where I stood. ‘He’s a fine
fellow : I like him. So you want to he a
sailor, my boy, do you?’ added he, affec
tionately patting my head. ‘lt’s a hard
life, though: a hard life.’
“But when I looked round at his com
fortable, and almost luxurious cabin, and
then at his handsome care-free face, I
j thought he was only trying to frighten me
\ and 1 answered, ‘Well, sir, I am ready to
j try it.’
“ ‘I hope he's a country lad, sir,’ said the
captain to my fiiend, ‘these city boys are
■ sometimes hard cases.’
“Oh ! yes, he’s from the country,’ was
the reply, ‘and of a highly respectable fam
ily; his great-uncle died a Senator.’
“‘But his great-uncle don't want to go
| to sea too ?’ said the captain, looking fun
;ny.
‘“Oh! no, oh no!-~IIa! ha!’
‘“Ha! ha:’ echoed the captain.
‘“A fine funny gentleman, thought I, not
much fancying, however, Iris levity con
cerning rny great-uncle, he’ll be cracking
his jokes the whole voyage; and so I af
; terwards said to one of the riggers on board;
j but he bade me look out that he did not
j crack rny head.
‘•‘Well, my lad,’ sai l the captain, ‘lsup
; pose you know we hav’n’t any pastures
■ and cows on board ; you cant get any milk
| at sea, you know.’
“•Oh! 1 know all about that, sir; my
father has crossed the ocean, if I hav’n’t.’
j “‘Yes,’ cried my friend, ‘his father, a
1 gentleman of one of the first families in
: America, crossed lhe Atlantic several times
1 on important business.’
“‘Ambassador extraordinary?’ said the
captain, looking funny again.
‘•■Oh! no, iie was a wealthy merchant.’
“‘Air! indeed!’ said the captain, look
-1 ing grave and bland again, ‘then this fine
; lad is the son of a gentleman !’
“‘Certainly,’ said my friend, ‘and he's
only going to sea for the humor of it : they
want to send him on his travels with a tu
tor, hut he will go to sea as a sailor.’
“ The fact was, that my friend (lor he
was only about twenty-five) was not a very
wise man ; and this was a huge fib, which,
■ out of the kindness of his heart, lie told in
iny behalf, for the purpose of creating a
profound respect for me in the eyes of my
future lord.
‘Upon being apprised that 1 had wilfully
j forborne taking the grand tour with atutor,
in order to put my hand in a tar bucket, the
handsome captain looked ten times more
funny than ever ; and said that he himself
would be my tutor, and take me on my
travels, and pay for the privilege.
“‘Ah!’ said my friend, ‘that reminds me
lof business. Pray, captain, how much do
you generally pay a handsome young fel
low like this ?’
“ ‘Well,’ said the captain, looking grave
and profound, ‘we are not so particular
about beauty, and we never give more than
three dollars to a green lad like Welling,
borough here, that’s your name, my boy ?
Wellingborough Redburn! Upon my soul,
a fine sounding name.’
“ ‘Why, captain,’ said Mr. Jones, quick
ly interrupting him, ‘that won't pay forhis
clothing.’
“‘But you know his highly respectable
and wealthy relations will doubtless see to
all that,’ replied the captain, with his fun
ny look again.
“ ‘Oh ! yes, I forgot that,’ said Mr. Jones,
looking rather foolish. ‘His friends will of
course see to that.’
“•Of course,’ said the captain, smiling.
“‘Of course,’ repeated Mr. Jones, look
ing ruefully at the patch on my pantaloons,
which just then I endeavored to hide with
the skirt of my shooting jacket.
“ ‘Vou are quite a sportsman, I see,’ said
the captain, eyeing the great buttons on
my coat, upon each of which was a carved
fox.
“Upon this my benevolent friend thought
that here was a grand opportunity to be
friend me.
“‘Yes, he's quite a sportsman,’ said he’
‘he’s got a very valuable fowling piece at
home ; perhaps you would like to purchase
it, captain, to shoot gulls with at seal It's
cheap.’
“‘Oh ! no, he had Better leave it with his
relations,’ said the captain, ‘so that he can
go hunting again when he returns from
Eng'and.’
“ ‘Yes, perhaps that would be Better af
ter all,’said my friend, pretending to fall
into a profound musing, involving all sides
of the matter in hand. ‘Well, then, cap
tain, you can only give the boy three dol
lars a month, you say V
“ ‘Only three dollars a month,’ said the
captain.
“ ‘And I believe,’ said my friend, ‘that you
generally give something in advance, do
you not V
“‘Yes, that is sometimes the custom at
the shipping offices,’ said the captain, with
a bow. ‘but in this case, as the boy has rich
relations, there will be no need of that, you
know.’
“And thus, by his ill-advised, but well
meaning hints concerning the respectabili
ty ol my paternity, and the immense wealth
of my relations,did this really honest-heart
ed but foolish friend of mine, prevent me
from getting three dollars in advance,
which I greatly needed. However, I said
nothing, though I thought the more; and
particularly, how that it would have been
much better for me to have gone on board
alone, accosted the captain on my own ac
count, and told him the plain truth. Poor
people make a poor business of it when
they try to seem rich.
“The ai rangement being concluded, we
bade the captain good morning ; and as we
wore about leaving the cabin, be smiled
again, an ! said, ‘Well, Redburn, my boy,
you won’t get home-sick before vou sail,
because that will make you very sea-sick
when you get to sea.’
“And with that he smiled very pleasant
ly, and bowed two or three times, and told
the steward to open the cabin door, which
the steward did with a peculiar sorto f grin
on his face, and a slanting glance at my
shooting jacket.
“ And so we left.”
SUNDAY HEADINGS, Tor Dec. 9.
THE CURSE TUUN ED INTO A BLES
SING.
Ou: of the eater came for h meat, nod out of the
strong came forth sweetness.” Judges xiv. It.
The sentiment contained in these words
may also he applied to
The afflictions of God's people. In the
immense machinery of Providence, notwith
standing the complicated movement of ail
the parts, each wheel is revolving in its
proper place, for the accomplishment of his
purposes, and the display of his glory. We
are prone to murmur at God's ways; but
the sense of present affliction should not
drown the remembrance of past mercies.
Words flow apace when we complain; our
minds, our mouths, and prayers, are full of
our trials. We inscribe his mercies on the
sand, and the first wave of trouble wash
es all way. Are not Christians fed by their
afflictions? “Out of the eater comes forth
meat;” their graces are fed ; their faith,
hope, love, and repentance. Happy is it
when the death of our comforts proves the
resurrection of our graces. Does it not pu
rify ? “ lie shall sit as a refiner to purify
tire sons of Levi, and purge them as gold
and silver.” Does it not improve theii gra
ces ? “ That the trial of your faith, being
much more precious than of gold that pel
isheth, though it be tried with lire, might be
found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at
the appearing of Jesus Christ.’’ Does it
not strengthen? “And he shall pass
through the sea with affliction, and I will
strengthen them in the Lord.” Is it notan
evidence of sonship ! For “ whom the Lord
loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every
son whom he receiveth.” Does it not
meeten us for glory ? “ For our light afflic
tion, which is hut for a moment, worketh
for us a far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory.” As the mighty rushing
wave—canopied with the mild azure sk)
—decorates and beautifies the ocean, so
do afflictions, grace and adorn the Christian;
his bosom may be racked wfth tempesiu
ous trials, while his soul is enjoying 'be
mild atmosphere of heavenly joys. Out of
the bitter waters of affliction. God extracts
the sweet streams of consolation ; but thcie
must he time for this:
‘•II is purposes will rip n fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
Ru’ sac t will be the f.ower.”
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