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©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.” Christian's Daily Treasury