There is a peculiar phrase, or rather word, that I have left unexplained, and concerning which I will now proceed to enlighten the terrestrial and unenlightened reader. I spoke of whipping the ladies into the ship. The whip, then, consists of a tail-block on the main yard-arm, with a sufficient rope rove through it, and a similar purchase on the collar of the main-stay. One end of each of these ropes is made fast to a stout arm-chair, covered generally with the ship's ensign, with the loose part of which the lady wraps her feet. The other ends are in the hands of careful, steady seamen. The lady, being arranged and fixed in the chair, with a "breast-rope" from arm to arm, (of the chair, not of the lady,) is hoisted up by the yard-whip till she has approached the zenith sufficiently to go clear of the waist hammock-nettings, when the stay-whip is hauled upon, carrying her in a horizontal direction over the gangway, when both whips being lowered, she is disentangled of her "wrappers and twine," and received in the arms of a lover, a husband, or a brother, as the case may be. Ladies and gentlemen, whose curiosity on the subject of whips is still unsatisfied, will find their theory demonstrated and illustrated by a diagram in "Enfield's Natural Philosophy."

I have known the somewhat startling nautical command, "Get the whip ready for the ladies," blanch many a fair cheek with sudden and most causeless alarm. It cannot be denied that we "gentlemen of the ocean" have singular names for things; but every thing at sea must have a name, or there would be no getting along.

I have only farther to remark on this subject, that horses are infinitely more tractable in taking on board a ship, than ladies; for the moment the horse perceives his feet are clear of the ground, he becomes perfectly quiet and passive; whereas, the lady is always quiet while a handsome young officer is arranging the flags, &c. about her feet; but as soon as she is fairly in the air, she begins to scream, and kick, and bounce about, to the imminent risk of her bones; and just at the time when common sense and instinct teach the quadruped to keep perfectly still, women, who have but little common sense in such cases, and no instinct at all, are the most intractable and restless.

Morton followed the last lady, namely, Isabella, and, as he stepped over the gangway, was accosted by his brother officer.

"What a thundering pretty girl that last one is!"

"She is the governor's niece," said Morton.

"You may tell that to the marines," said Coffin; "I'll be shot if there's as much Spanish blood in her veins as would grease the point of a sail-needle."

"They say so ashore," said Morton.

"I don't care what they say; I'll believe my eyes before the best Spaniard among them."

"Who knows," said Morton, "but that infernal soldier, that's buzzing about her, may one day be the husband of that sweet girl?"

"There's no knowing," said Coffin, yawning; "but you and I, Charlie, can't marry all the pretty girls that are like to have fools for husbands."

As this conversation went on, the mates had walked aft, and were close behind Isabella, who stood by the companion-way, while the governor, and his lady, who was not far behind him in corporeal dimensions, were accomplishing their descent into the lower regions.

"That rascally soldier," said Morton, "wants nothing but a tail to make him a full-rigged monkey, and that lovely girl is about to be sacrificed to him."

"Poor girl!" said Coffin; "it's bad enough to marry a sojer, any how; but to marry such a critter as that is going it a little too fine."

Poor Isabella, who had heard and properly understood every syllable of their conversation, was exceedingly affected. She had heard a person, whose appearance and manners approached her beau ideal of a gentleman, expressing, in warm and energetic language, the liveliest compassion for her, and guessing (for she could not imagine how he could know with certainty) her exact situation, and manifesting an apparently sincere and hearty interest towards her. Although her uncle had forborne to trouble her upon that hateful subject, after he had first proposed it, she knew his disposition too well to regard the reprieve as an abandonment of his original design.

As she turned away to conceal her emotion from her cousins, her streaming eyes encountered those of Morton. The young seaman was shocked and alarmed at her tears, though he had not the most distant suspicion that she had understood a word that had been said. Her beauty had first attracted his notice—it was so un-Spanish, and so nearly resembling that of New England ladies; the pensive expression of her countenance had excited a lively interest and curiosity towards her; but her tears, the evidence of that "secret grief" that the heart, and only the heart, knoweth, had called up all the sympathies of his heart.

I believe there are few men, who deserve the name, that are proof against a woman's tears, and there are few such men, who, when they perceive a woman, especially a young and beautiful one, oppressed with grief, anxiety, or distress, do not feel an irresistible impulse to assist and relieve her.

It may be objected that I have made my hero fall in love at first sight. To this I answer that I cannot spare time to lead him step by step through all the crooks and turns of the bewitching passion; secondly, love is not like the consumption; people do not go gradually into it by a beaten road, every foot of which is marked and designated by its appropriate and peculiar symptoms. "Nemo est repente vitiosus," says Juvenal—nobody becomes completely depraved all at once; very true, but folks certainly do, to my certain knowledge, fall in love all at once, and that is doubtless the reason why they are said to fall in love. Love is like the Asiatic cholera; a man is suddenly laid flat on his back, with all the marked and violent symptoms, when he thought all the while he was in perfect health. "Love," says Corporal Trim, "is exactly like war in this, that a soldier, though he has escaped three weeks complete o' Saturday night, may nevertheless be shot through the heart on Sunday morning." In the third place, a man, who for two or three years has seen nothing in the female form more attractive than the copper-colored beauties of Asia, the South Sea Islands, and the whole western coast of America, or the ebony fair ones of Africa, is most astonishingly susceptible when once more restored to the society of ladies of his own complexion, and of more refinement than those we have mentioned. I have had the ineffable pleasure of testing the truth of this theory more than a dozen times in my own person. If any gentleman doubts the fact, I can only advise him to banish himself from female society, in a man-of-war or whaleman, for three or four years. If he does not fall in love fifty times a month, when he returns, he is either more or less than human, and, in either case, I should wish to remain a stranger to him.

The whole party were now "under hatches," and examining the wonders of a whaleman's cabin. Morton had attached himself to Isabella, and, as he spoke the Spanish language fluently, and, what was more to the purpose, was impelled by an irresistible feeling to entertain and amuse her, soon drew her into conversation, and was astonished and delighted with her good sense. He had visited different parts of South America before, and had seen enough of the women to perceive that they were excessively ignorant, superstitious, and vulgar. He was therefore not a little surprised to perceive in Isabella's conversation marks of a cultivated and polished understanding.

The rest of the party had gone into the steerage to examine some of those curious specimens of whalebone work, in the fabrication of which whalemen employ so much patience and time, during their long and often unsuccessful voyages. As Isabella and Morton stood together by the cabin table, the lady opened a bible that was lying there, and seemed for a moment or two engaged in reading it.

"Do you understand that?" said the seaman, still speaking Spanish.

"Yes," she replied, in English, "my mother was a Scotchwoman, and a Protestant."

"Good heavens! then I am afraid—I am sure—that—in short, I believe that something was said before you came below, that must have been unpleasant—that, indeed, could not but hurt your feelings."

Isabella was extremely agitated, and turned away her head.

"What would I not give," continued he, in a low voice, "what would I not sacrifice, to be able—to be permitted, to assist you in any way."

He stopped, scarcely knowing what he said, or hardly knowing whether he had spoken at all. The poor girl raised her swimming eyes in supplication.

"For heaven's sake! drop this subject; if my uncle knew that you had spoken thus to me, he would carry me back immediately."

"But tell me, dearest lady, tell me, is there no way in which I can be of service to you?"

"No, no, no, leave me; if you have any regard for me, leave me. I thank you for the interest you have shown for me; but it will avail nothing."

The tone of extreme dejection, and melancholy, in which she pronounced these last words, almost drove Morton beside himself. He was completely bewildered with conflicting emotions—a young and beautiful woman, lovely in person and in mind, and, what made her irresistible to an unsophisticated, warm, generous, and feeling heart, in affliction—affliction that seemed more remediless, because not understood by one, nor communicated by the other.

From this situation of mutual embarrassment, they were relieved by the entrance of one of the young ladies, who came to call her cousin into the steerage, to see the wonders already alluded to. Luckily, Carlota, although a good-natured girl, and fond of her cousin Isabella, was not remarkably keen-sighted, or she must have noticed the agitation and embarrassment of both parties.

In the meantime, Mr. Coffin, who had a large share of a particular kind of shrewdness, had noticed that his friend seemed inclined to enjoy the society of Isabella uninterrupted; and, to assist that manoeuvre as much as possible, engaged the young officers with some tremendous tough fish stories, in which he was ably supported by one of the boat-steerers, a Portuguese, who spoke Spanish, as a matter of course, and helped out his officer, when his imperfect knowledge of the language brought him to a stand still. So he managed to hold them, as jackasses are held,—by the ears,—till he saw his companion and the young lady come into the steerage, when he broke off somewhat abruptly, in the middle of a very tough yarn, leaving the gentlemen of the sword to guess at the catastrophe.

As the party stood around a chest, upon which these whalebone toys, and other curiosities, were displayed, Antonia dropt a bouquet from her bosom. As Morton picked it up, and returned it to its fair owner, he made some remark upon the beauty, and fragrance, of the flowers.

"Are you fond of flowers?" said the young lady.

"Yes, very."

"That I can answer for," said Coffin; "he is always, when on shore for wood, water, or pleasure, in search of rare flowers, and shells. It is well there are no such things at sea, or we should never have taken a single whale—and then he paints those he finds so beautifully."

"What! he paint flowers! a man paint flowers! Santa Maria! who ever heard of such a thing!" echoed the two young ladies.

"And why not, my children," said the fat priest, laughing; "do you ladies think you have an exclusive title, and right, to all the elegant accomplishments?"

"I do not doubt," said Coffin, "that Signor Morton would be proud to show the ladies his drawings. Come, Charlie," he continued, in English, "you shall not keep your candle under a bushel any longer—you see you're in for it, and you may as well submit with a good grace."

So saying, he led the way to the cabin, where the drawings were paraded upon the table. They were certainly very beautiful; for to a fondness for the "serene and silent art," Morton added a natural taste for it, which he had ample leisure to cultivate, during his long voyages. After admiring them for some time, Madame de Luna gave the artist a cordial invitation to visit their house, and garden, a mile or two beyond the town; in the latter, she assured him, he would find some rare and beautiful subjects for his pencil. Morton was exceedingly gratified by this kindness, and said, in a low voice, and in English, to Isabella, but without looking at, or apparently addressing, her, as she stood next him, "Then I shall have the happiness of seeing you once more."



CHAPTER VI.

Love's power's too great to be withstood By feeble human flesh and blood. 'Twas he that brought upon his knees The hect'ring kil-cow Hercules; Transform'd his leaguer-lion's skin T' a petticoat, and made him spin; Seiz'd on his club, and made it dwindle T' a feeble distaff and a spindle.

HUDIBRAS.

The dinner on board the Orion, which was not served up till one o'clock, by the way, as Captain Hazard wished to be more than usually genteel, was excellent, and was preceded, and followed, by copious libations of punch; after which the wine was set on table, and the veterans, that is, the military, the nautical, and ecclesiastical, part of the company, proceeded to discuss it, "in manner and form." The governor, as was his custom on such occasions, told interminable stories of the siege of Gibraltar, during which, his hopeful nephew elect enjoyed a very comfortable nap, and even Father Josef nodded occasionally.

The ladies had made their escape, as soon us dinner was finished; and Morton, on the watch, like a cat to steal cream, was on the alert, as soon as he perceived their intentions, and accompanied them on deck. To his great satisfaction, none of the Spanish officers made any attempt to leave the table; for, as the old Don had just got fairly under weigh with one of his campaigning stories, they were afraid to treat him with so much disrespect, and, of course, hazard their hopes of being invited to attend him again upon a similar party. Accordingly, Morton had the pleasure of enjoying the society of the ladies, without interruption, and found many opportunities of saying a few words to Isabella. In this, he was again much beholden to the skilful manoeuvring of his messmate, Coffin, who was already higher in the good graces of the mother and daughters than Morton, who, though a handsome man, had not so much of that dashing, off-hand, sort of gallantry as the other; and which goes an incredible way with most ladies.

Morton had seen more of the polite world, and was better educated, and more refined in his manners, than Coffin; but, besides being, at that time, wholly engrossed and engaged by a particular object, he had that peculiar kind of modesty, or diffidence, that does a man so much injury with the other sex; who, though they pretend to prize modesty so highly among themselves, abominate it as unnatural, absurd, and affected, in men; while the pert and obsequious fluttering of a fashionable water-fly, which is always received with a smile, is generally more prized, and rewarded more bountifully still. There is, however, some consolation in the thought, that repentance always overtakes, and punishes, the silly woman who has allowed herself to be so fatally "pleased with a rattle;" she perceives, after marriage, that she has given herself irrevocably to a thing "of shreds and patches."

There is a certain sort of little attentions, that ladies generally expect from our sex, and a skill and adroitness in showing which makes no inconsiderable part of a modern gentleman's education. I have known many young men, who could not write two consecutive sentences, without coming to an open rupture with orthography, grammar, or common sense, or all three, if it was to save their well-stocked necks from the halter, or their souls, (what of that commodity they have,) from Satan's grip, but who stood very high, and, doubtless, deservedly so, in the estimation of the fair sex, simply from their skill and precision in going through a certain routine of little trifling acts of politeness.

As far as ladies are concerned, politeness appears to consist chiefly in a man's putting himself to more or less inconvenience, or exposing himself to danger, on their account. With regard to the last, I do not know but I could acquit myself to advantage, partly from the peculiar recklessness that is acquired at sea; and partly because facing danger, in the protection of the weaker sex, is both the duty of the stronger, and the stronger generally can do it with less embarrassment, than perform those innumerable, nameless, attentions, already alluded to. I cannot say, however, that when walking out with ladies, I have felt peculiarly desirous of the apparition of a mad bull, a ghost, or the devil, to give me an opportunity to show my courage; but I think it is certainly easier to most men to expose themselves to danger, in the service of a lady, than to perform acceptably, and without awkwardness, those little acts of politeness, that, in the present state of society, ladies are somewhat rigorous in exacting. I have passed the very cream and flower of my life at sea, that is, from nineteen to thirty-two, and now, "in these latter days," begin to feel myself very much like a fish out of water. How often have I "sailed into the northward" of a fair lady's displeasure, for neglecting to assist her into, or out of, a carriage! never dreaming, "poor ignorant sinner" that I am! that the ascent up the steps of a coach was attended with any more perils, than that of the stairs that lead to her bed-room; or that a girl, perhaps twenty years my junior, glowing in the full bloom of youth, health, and sprightliness, and with a step as light and elastic as Virgil's Camilla, required the assistance of such an old weather-beaten beau as myself. How often have I been pouted at by the ripest, rosiest, lips in the world, for omitting to wait upon their owner home, on a dark, stormy, evening, and half a mile out of my way, simply because I preferred the company I was with, to the half-mile heat! I do not know that I have ever felt very desirous of living my life over again; but I confess I should like to go back, say, to the age of three or four and twenty, merely to take a few lessons in the graces, and then "jump the life to come," as far as where I am now, namely, thirty or forty.

By Mr. Coffin's management, Morton and Isabella were much of the time together, and both instinctively avoided any allusion to painful subjects. He described to her the various implements used in the whale-fishery, gave her a short account of the voyage, and of the different parts of America, and of the islands in the Pacific, that he had visited; and, in short, exerted himself to please and entertain her, and was successful.

When in the society of those we love, and from whom we are soon to separate, perhaps forever, how much we can manage to say in a little time! how earnestly do we strive to render delightful those moments, perhaps the last that we are ever to pass with those friends! Dr. Johnson says, the approach of death wonderfully concentrates one's ideas; so does the approach of the hour of parting.

Isabella heard herself, for the first time, for many years, addressed in the language of respectful politeness, and unassuming common sense; the pictures of refined, polished, and enlightened, society, drawn in the few excellent English authors her mother had left her, seemed realized and presented to her eyes, in all the richness of life. She did not stop to analyse, or try to explain to herself the peculiarly delightful feelings that occupied her mind; though if she had been left alone for five minutes, her own good sense would have told her it was love: that pure, unalloyed, unreflecting, ardent, first love, that, like the whooping-cough and the measles, we never have but once; though some patients have it earlier in life, and more severely, than others.

Ladies will never admit, and never have admitted, from the time the stone-masons and hod-carriers struck work upon the tower of Babel, (for want of a circulating medium of speech, that would be taken at par by all hands, down to the present Anno Domini, 1834, and twenty-second of October,) that any of their sisterhood ever fell in love "at sight," as brokers call it, or that her eyes influenced her heart. With regard to the female, who, in early life, takes up the "trade and mystery" of a fashionable belle, ex officio a coquet and a flirt, this is in some measure true; for I have observed, that very beautiful women of that description, who have had at their feet wealth, and talent, and eloquence, and virtue, generally "close their concerns" by marrying sots, fools, gamblers, rakes, or brutes; they seem to choose their husbands as old maiden ladies do their lap-dogs; which are invariably the most cross, ugly, ill-tempered, filthy, noisy, little scoundrels, that the entire canine family can muster. But their practice is at variance with their profession. It is physically and morally impossible that women, whose chief strength consists in external appearance and show, should hold in light esteem external appearance and show in our sex; and, if they are not guided by their eyes in the choice of their lovers, I should like to know what the d—l they are guided by; for in a company of feather-pated girls, the chief object of ridicule is the personal defects of their male acquaintance.

Time, that stands still with married men, and sometimes with old bachelors, flies with lovers; and the sun's "lower limb" was dipping in the haze, that skirted the western horizon, when the steward came on deck, and informed the ladies and gentlemen that coffee was ready, and, accordingly, they descended into the cabin. After this refreshment, preparations were made for going ashore. Morton and Coffin ran on deck, to get the whips ready; and the former, calling his own boat's crew aft, had his boat lowered down from the quarter-davits, and brought to the gangway, while the governor's bargemen were lighting fresh segars. With a few words of explanation to the second officer, Morton sprang into his boat, and, in a few minutes, Isabella and her two cousins were safely stowed in the stern-sheets. The bowman obeyed the command, "shove off;" the swift boat, impelled by five strong-limbed seamen, flew like a swallow across the bay, and reached the landing-place at least ten minutes before the cumbrous barge of his excellency bounced her broad nose against the side of the quay, and recoiled, like a battering-ram.

Morton improved the time he was on the shore with the ladies, by paying more attention to the governor's daughters than he had done heretofore, and easily succeeded in entertaining them. They repeated their mother's invitation to the young seaman to visit their house, declaring they had never seen any foreign gentleman that spoke such pure Spanish; that the Americans were much more polite, and respectful, and hospitable, and obliging, than the English; and concluded, by wondering why, if the United States were so near Mexico, it should take six months to go from St. Blas there. To all which Morton made the appropriate replies; and, when the rest of the party were assembled, assisted the ladies to their horses, renewing to Isabella, as he adjusted her in the saddle, his promise to call at her uncle's house the next day. As this promise did not cause the young lady to "jump out her skin" or saddle, it is highly probable that she did not perceive any great harm in it; nor did it occur to her then, or when consulting her pillow at night, that she violated female propriety, by answering, simply, and somewhat emphatically, "I hope you will."

On their ride homeward, the party were loud in their praises of the entertainment of the day, their eulogies being directed to different parts of the entertainment according to the different tastes of the individuals performing the concert; for instance, the young ladies made honorable mention of the politeness and attention of the "dos pelotos hermosos," the two handsome mates; the old lady chanted the praises of the china ware, and table linen, and the knives and forks—all of them luxuries at that time in South America; the governor eulogized the punch, and Father Josef the dinner; the young officers were in raptures with the wine, in which they were joined by the civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries in grand chorus. Perhaps there never was a party of visitors that left their entertainer's house, whether riding at anchor in port, or standing on hammered granite "underpinning" on shore, better pleased with what they had had, or in better humor or spirits.



CHAPTER VII.

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life.

ROMEO AND JULIET.

Isabella arose at her usual hour the next morning, and after breakfast walked into the garden, from a sort of unacknowledged hope and wish that she might soon be joined by the young American, who had occupied her thoughts, both sleeping and waking, since she had parted with him on the beach the evening previous. At the sound of every horse's feet she started, and her heart beat quicker. But he came not that day, and as evening approached, her disappointment became almost insupportable; she tried to frame excuses for him; he had never been to the house; perhaps he had, by a very natural mistake, gone to her uncle's house in town, instead of that where she now was, and which was rather more than a mile from St. Blas, and whither the family came regularly to lodge, though they spent most of the time at their town residence; perhaps he was detained on board by his duties; or he might be sick.

"And why," said the weeping girl to herself, "why should I wish to see him again? Alas! I have already seen him too often, for my future peace of mind. He is going home to his parents, his relatives, his friends, his home, and perhaps to his wife;" and this last thought crossed her mind with a feeling of peculiar anguish; "but no, when he spoke of his friends and parents, he said nothing of his wife; but he is going, and in a few short months he will forget that he has ever seen me, or that such an unhappy being has ever existed."

With these painful and self-tormenting reflections she passed the evening, and much of the night; but youthful hope, that cheers the heart with flattering and deceitful promises, never sufficiently well defined to resemble certainty, but always brilliant; hope, whose elasticity raises the sinking heart, soothed and composed her spirits, and she sank into sound and refreshing slumbers, to wake to a brighter and more flattering day; but at the same time, to sink deeper and more irrevocably into that bewitching, bewildering passion, whose existence she could not now avoid acknowledging.

As she was sitting in the garden the next day, she was suddenly startled by the approach of her two cousins in full chat, and close behind them, Morton. Isabella seemed rooted to her seat, the light swam before her eyes, her tongue was paralyzed, and her limbs were unable to raise or support her. The young seaman approached, and in broken, incoherent, and unintelligible accents, attempted to express the delight he felt at once more seeing her. Perhaps, if the two cousins had been out of the way; he would have acquitted himself better, perhaps not so well. "Iron sharpeneth iron," saith Solomon; "so doth a man the countenance of his friend." It may be so in some cases, but I doubt whether any man can make love so glibly, so off hand, before half a dozen spectators, especially females, as he can "all alone by himself;" on the other hand, there is something absolutely awful in being alone with a pretty and modest woman, and being compelled to "look one another in the face," like the two bullying kings of Judah and Jerusalem. It is much like "watching with a corpse," a ceremony derived, I believe, from the orientals, and still prevalent in good old New England.

The parties were soon relieved from their embarrassment; the two cousins, after asking a thousand questions, and only waiting to hear two hundred and fifty of the answers, bounced off into the house, leaving the two lovers, for such they were now most decidedly, to the luxury of their own thoughts and conversation. We have no time, inclination, nor ability, to describe the steps by which they advanced from mere acquaintance to the can't-live-without-each-other and hopeless state of deep and incurable love.

Perhaps Morton was not grieved or angry when it was declared, after a thorough survey by Captain Hazard, Coffin, and himself, to be absolutely necessary to procure a new foremast and bowsprit for the ship before she sailed—the first being rotten, and the other badly sprung. As Captain Hazard placed the most implicit confidence in Morton's capacity to purchase and superintend the making of the requisite spars, the latter, to his great joy, was requested to take charge of the shore department. By this arrangement his opportunities of seeing his beloved Isabella occurred several times each day.

Though there had been no formal declaration of love between them, they were each conscious that they loved and were beloved in return; the most unreserved confidence existed between them, and Morton, who felt most keenly for Isabella's unpleasant situation, had repeatedly hinted at the happiness she was sure to enjoy in a more favored country, if she would leave her uncle's house, and take passage in the Orion for New England. She affected, at first, not to understand him; but when it became impossible to avoid perceiving his meaning, she only answered, "No, no—I cannot—I dare not;" but the answer was always accompanied with a sigh and a tear; and as from day to day he informed her of the progress the ship made in her repairs, her negative became fainter and less resolutely expressed.

Owing to the necessity of making some repairs in his country residence, the governor and his family had latterly resided altogether in St. Blas; and as the puppy Don Gregorio watched with a suspicious and malignant eye, the frequent visits of Morton, the lovers had generally met at the house of Dame Juanita, the front of which was occupied as a shop, with a little parlor back of it, to which Isabella had access by passing out of the gate in the rear of her uncle's house, without going through the street.

With all the glowing eloquence of young love, and hope, and confidence, Morton detailed to her the thousand and one schemes that his fertile imagination suggested; Isabella could see but one hideous feature in them all—the dreadful fate that awaited him if unsuccessful.

"Listen to me," said he one day to her, as she had been urging to him the terrible risk he encountered—for she seemed to have no eyes for the certain immuring in a convent that awaited her—"listen to me, dearest Isabella; the ship is now nearly ready; she will sail in three or four days at farthest, and will sail at ten or eleven o'clock at night, to take advantage of the land-breeze. I will have my boat at the quay, and horses here in town; in the dusk of evening, and with a little disguise, you will not be recognised; there is no guarda-costa here now, and before the sun rises we shall be out of sight of land, and beyond the reach of pursuit."

She made no reply, but sat pale as marble; the images of her kind and affectionate aunt and cousins, and even of her much-feared but still much-loved uncle, floated before her eyes, and seemed reproaching her with unkindness and ingratitude; while, on the other hand, her fancy painted her the wife of the man she loved, and without whom she felt life would be wretched: she saw herself surrounded by enlightened and polished society, such as her sainted mother had graced before her; she saw herself moving in a new sphere, and fulfilling new duties: then imagination placed before her bewildered mind the sinfulness of deserting the station in which Heaven had placed her. She sighed deeply as she almost determined to refuse, when a glimpse of her abhorred lover, Don Gregorio, caused a sudden and violent revulsion of feeling, and to Morton's repeated entreaties, "speak to me, dear Isabella; say yes, love," she at length murmured a scarcely audible or articulate consent. The delighted seaman caught her in his arms, and pressed kiss after kiss upon the lips of the struggling, blushing girl.

"Remember, love," said he, as they parted, "be punctual here three nights hence. I will have horses ready at the end of the street, and before day dawns you shall be safe."

There was still one thing to be done, and that was to obtain the consent of Captain Hazard, who, though an excellent, kind-hearted man in the main, had some rather old-fashioned notions of propriety, especially in outward form, and would, as Morton knew full well, have very serious objections to advance against such a mad scrape; but he trusted to the fondness of the good old seaman towards him, and his own upright and honorable intentions, to overthrow all the veteran's scruples.



CHAPTER VIII.

On the morning of the day that the above arrangement was made by the parties concerned, Captain Hazard observed that Morton had despatched his breakfast very hastily, and was on deck, waiting for his boat's crew to finish their meal, long before the Captain and Mr. Coffin had shown any symptoms of pausing in their discussion of salt beef, coffee, and pilot bread.

"What can be the matter with Mr. Morton lately?" said the old seaman to his second officer; "he was never so fond of going ashore anywhere else, and now here he's off and into his boat, like a struck black-fish."

"Why, I some expect," said Coffin, "there's a petticoat in the wind."

"The devil! who?"

"Well, I rather guess it's that pretty blue-eyed, English-looking girl, that came on board with old Don Blow-me-down, when he first came in here."

"Ah! I recollect her. I thought Morton seemed to take a shine to her."

"They say she's Don Strombolo's niece."

"They may tell that to the marines; she don't look no more like the rest on 'em than the devil looks like a parson."

"I don't know" said Coffin gravely, "how the devil looks; but they say he can put on the appearance of an angel of light, and I don't see why 'taint jist as easy for him to put on a black coat, and come the parson over us poor sinners."

"Well, well; she's a sweet pretty girl, and looks kind o' as though she wasn't over and above in good spirits."

"Well, now; I some guess I know a little something about that."

"Why how the d—— did you come to make yourself busy?"

"Why, you see, there's an old woman keeps a pulparia[3] close to the old Don's rookery."

"Hum! so, Mr. Sam Coffin, when you're cruising for information, you overhaul the women's papers first and foremost."

"Why you see, Captain Hazard, if you ask one of these men here a civil question, all you can get out of the critter is that d—d 'quien sabe,' and blast the any thing else."

"Can sarvy! why that sounds like Chinaman's talk; what does it mean?"

"It means 'who knows,' and that's the way they answer pretty much all questions."

"Well, what was't you was going to say about the girl?"

"Well, the old woman told me the girl's mother was an Englishwoman."

"I told you she wasn't clear Spanish—and being a girl, so, why she takes altogether after the mother."

"And the old woman said furdermore, that her mother wasn't a Catholic; she was a what-d'ye-call-'em."

"A Protestant, I s'pose you mean."

"Yes, yes, a Protestant—that's it. Well, you see, her mother did not die till this girl, her darter, was nigh upon sixteen years old, and it's like the old lady eddicated her arter the same religion she was brought up in herself."

"Aye, now I begin to see into it all."

"Well, so you see, as nigh as I can make out, for the old woman wouldn't talk right out—only kept hinting along like."

"Hum! a woman generally can hint a d—d sight more than when she speaks right out."

"Well, so it seems this Isabella, being half English and whole Protestant, won't exactly steer by their compass in religious matters."

"Poor girl! poor innocent little creature!"

"Well, I got a talking 'long with the old woman, and, arter a good deal of trouble, I got hold of pretty much the whole history about this 'ere girl. So she told me, amongst other things, that the girl's uncle wanted her to marry one of them officers that was aboard that day."

"Which of them?"

"That thundering cockroach-legged thief, that was copper-fastened with gold lace and brass buttons chock up to his ears, with a thundering great broadsword triced up to his larboard quarter and slung with brass chains."

"Ah! I recollect him."

"And so do I, blast his profile. He cut more capers than the third mate of a Guineaman over a dead nigger, and went skylarking about decks like a monkey in a china-shop."

"I took notice that he looked marline-spikes at Mr. Morton for paying so much attention to the girl."

"Aye, that he did; but I worked him a traverse in middle latitude, sailing on that tack. I got him and the rest on 'em into the steerage, and Mr. Morton and the girl had a good half hour's discourse to themselves in the cabin."

"I should be sorry to have Mr. Morton try to engage the poor girl's affections; and if I thought he had any improper intentions towards her, I would go ashore immediately, and speak to the old governor about it."

"Well now, Captain Hazard, I guess there isn't no danger on that tack. Mr. Morton may go adrift now and then among the girls, and where's the man that doesn't? No, no; Charlie Morton isn't none of them sort that would gain a poor girl's affections only to ruin her. No no; he's too honorable and noble-spirited for such a rascally action as that."

"Well, I am of your opinion. So now, Mr. Coffin, we'll set up our fore-rigging for a full do; for we must sail Wednesday evening, right or wrong."

"Ay, ay, sir."

When Morton returned to the ship at night, he hastened to lay before Captain Hazard the history of his love, and his plans for bringing it to a successful crisis, declaring that his intentions were strictly honorable, and that the lady might easily pass upon the crew as a passenger. The old seaman heard him to an end, as he urged his request with all the fervor of youthful eloquence and love; and, having scratched his head for a while, as if to rouse himself, and be convinced that he was awake, replied:

"A queer sort of business this altogether, my son; I don't exactly know what to make of it—what will your father say to your bringing home a young cow-whale, in addition to your share of the oil?"

"Make yourself easy on that score, my dear sir; I know my father wishes to have me quit going to sea, and marry."

"Yes, but is not a wife, brought into your family in this way, liable to be looked upon as a sort of contraband article—run goods like?"

"I am not much afraid of that, on my father's part," said Morton; "and if," he continued, laughing, "if the grave old ladies of my acquaintance find fault, I can quiet them in a moment, by quoting the conduct of the tribe of Benjamin, in a similar situation, by way of precedent."

"Ah, Charlie! your scheme, I am afraid, is all top-hamper, and no ballast; wont the enemy give chase? I am sure that Don—Don—what's his name, that young officer, more than suspects your good standing in the young lady's affections: wont he alarm the coast, and put the old folks up to rowing guard round her, so that you can't communicate? Ay, that he will."

"Trust me for that, sir; if I cannot weather upon any Spaniard that ever went unhanged, either Creole or old Castilian, I'll agree to go to the mines for life."

"Don't be too rash, my dear boy; though the Spaniards are only courageous behind shot-proof walls, and when they number three to one, they are deceitful as well as cruel; and, if their suspicions are once excited, they will murder you at once, and her too, poor girl! and think they are doing God service, because you are both Protestants."

"I can only repeat, trust to my prudence and management; I have too much at stake to hazard it lightly."

"Then remember, Charles, we sail Wednesday evening: it will be star-light, but not too dark to see your way. I will defer sailing till eleven o'clock, if that will suit your schemes."

"It will exactly; or if you sail the moment I return, so much the better."

With these words, they separated—Morton, overjoyed at the completion of his preliminary arrangements, all night, like Peter Pindar's dog,

"lay winking, And couldn't sleep for thinking."

The appointed day at length arrived; but the destinies, who had hitherto spun the thread of the two lovers' fate as smooth and even as a whale-line yarn, now began to fill it full of kinks. Well did the ancients represent them as three haggard, blear-eyed, wrinkled, spiteful, old maids, who would not allow any poor mortal to live or die comfortably, and who took a malicious pleasure in disturbing "the course of true love." The inexorable Atropos brandished her scissors, and at one snip severed the thread asunder.

Daring the night there had been a tremendous thunder-squall, and the morning showed huge "double-headed" clouds, mustering in different parts of the horizon, and, apparently, waiting some signal to bid them commence operations; others, dark and suspicious looking, but of a less dense consistence, were seen scampering across the firmament in all directions, like aids-de-camp before a general engagement; the land-breeze had been interrupted by the night-squall, and the wind, what little there was, blew from every point of the compass but the usual one; the shags, that tenanted the top of Pedro Blanco, seemed unusually busy, as if anticipating a change of weather; and, in short, every thing announced that the delightful, salubrious, dry season had come to an end, and the empire of continual rain, and drizzle, and cloud, and mud, and putrid fevers, and rheumatism, and every thing disagreeable, had commenced. Still the day was delightful after ten o'clock, and the weather as clear as ever.

Morton had seen these indications of the approach of wet weather with no small anxiety; he knew full well that the governor and his family would pass the rainy season at Tepic, a city about ninety miles from the coast, or at some of the other large towns, in the more elevated and healthy regions inland. With Captain Hazard's permission, he hastened to the town, and to Juanita's house, but Isabella was not to be seen. After waiting for some time, a little girl brought him a short note, simply saying that she would see him in the evening, but could not before. With this promise he was obliged to content himself, and rode slowly back to the Porte. He was punctually on shore again at sunset, and once more hastened to town, having hired another horse, and directed his boat's crew not to go away from the quay. Having secured his horses at a certain place near the zig-zag descent towards the harbor already mentioned, he passed into the plaza, and was struck with consternation and despair, at seeing assembled before Don Gaspar's door, horses and mules in abundance, caparisoned for a journey. In fact, there was indisputable proof that the family were, in military parlance, on the route.

He hastened to the good dame Juanita's, and, in a few minutes, Isabella entered the room, and, throwing off, in her distress, all unnecessary reserve, threw herself weeping into his arms.

"All is over, dear Charles, all is lost—I set out to-night for Tepic, and we shall never meet again but in heaven."

"All is not lost, my own Isabella; every thing is in readiness—fly then with me—while your family are in confusion you will not immediately be missed, and, before an hour passes, you shall be safe on board."

"No, no; I dare not, I cannot."

To all his entreaties she seemed deaf, positively refusing to consent to escape with him; but whether from fear of being overtaken, or from maidenly timidity, it would be, perhaps, difficult to decide. At last, Morton, who was nearly beside himself with disappointment and vexation, relapsed into a short and stupified silence.

"Isabella," said he, at length, and with composure that startled her, "reflect for one moment upon your situation; you know your uncle's temper; you know he is not a man that will easily give up any of his plans—this is your only chance for escape from the fate you dread; do not then reject it."

She only answered with tears, and continued to repeat, as if mechanically, "I dare not; no, no, I cannot." Morton was silent a few moments, when a sudden ray of hope enlivened his gloomy reverie.

"Hear me, dearest; there is one, and only one, chance left yet. If your uncle urges you to marry, entreat him for one year's delay. Before that time expires, I trust to be here again. Vessels are constantly fitting out from the United States to this part of the world—if such a thing can be effected by mere human agency, I will be on board one of them, if not, I both can and will purchase and fit out a vessel myself. Promise me then, my love, that you will use all possible means to defer any matrimonial schemes your uncle may form for at least two years. But I trust, if my life and health are spared, that, before half that time has expired, I shall be here, to claim your first promise."

"I will, I will, dear Charles; I will not deceive you. I know my uncle loves me, and will grant me that delay. And now we must part; I shall be missed, and I dare not stay a moment longer. For heaven's sake, keep out of sight of—you can guess who I mean."

A parting scene between two lovers had always better be left to the imagination of the readers; because the author, unless he is gifted with the power of a Scott, a James, an Edgeworth, or a Sedgwick, is sure to disappoint the reader, and himself besides. My reader must therefore draw the picture, and color it, to his or her own peculiar taste, and fancy an interchange of kisses, locks of hair, rings, crooked sixpences, garters, or any thing else that constitutes circulating medium or stock in Love's exchange market.

The Orion had dropped out to the roads, and, with her anchor a short stay-peak, her topsails sheeted home but not hoisted, and her whole crew on deck, waited only for her first officer. Between nine and ten o'clock the sound of approaching oars was heard, but in a moment the practised ears of Captain Hazard and his second officer perceived that the advancing boat pulled very leisurely.

"Poor Charlie is coming off empty-handed," said Coffin.

"Yes, I was afraid the bird had flown, or the enemy was alarmed. I am sorry for it from my very heart, for he will be low spirited all the passage home."

"Well, I aint so sure about that—I've always found salt water a sartain cure for love."

"I dare say you have, Mr. Coffin; but love is like strong grog, it operates differently upon different constitutions and dispositions."

"Well, I s'pose that's pretty nigh the case. A good, stiff glass of grog, in a cold, rainy night, makes me feel as bright as a new dollar for a while, but then it soon passes off."

"I am afraid poor Morton's love is too deep-seated to be worked off by salt water or absence. But here comes the boat—hail her, Mr. Coffin."

"Boat ahoy!"

"O-ri-on."

"Are you alone, Mr. Morton?" said the captain in a low voice, as that gentleman came over the side.

"Yes, sir, but not without hopes another time."

The two officers then descended to the cabin, and Morton explained the cause of his failure, and expressed his determination to make another attempt as soon as possible after his arrival in New England. Captain Hazard insisted upon his turning in immediately, to recover from the fatigue and anxiety he had undergone during the day, and to his remonstrances laughingly observed that he was not in a proper state of mind to be trusted with the charge of a night-watch, and that Robinson, the oldest boat-steerer, should take his place. Coffin earnestly recommended a glass of hot punch, as "composing to the nerves;" but the patient declined, though he permitted Captain Hazard to qualify a tumbler of warm wine and water with thirty drops of laudanum.

The topsails were now hoisted aloft, the topgallant-sails set, and the anchor weighed; and, with a fresh breeze off the land, the first officer sound asleep and dreaming of "the girl he left behind him," a press of sail, and the starboard watch under the charge of Mr. Coffin, spinning tough yarns on the forecastle and calculating the probable amount of their voyage, the stout Orion left the Bay of St. Blas at the rate of eleven geographical miles per hour.

[Footnote 3: Pulparia, a small shop, generally pronounced pulparee.—Diabolus Typographicus.]



CHAPTER VIII.

Alexander.—They say he is a very man per se, And stands alone.

Cressida.—So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

Charles Morton, whom we have somewhat abruptly introduced to our readers, and exhibited for two or three chapters, without much explanation, was the only surviving child of a wealthy merchant in one of the sea-ports in the southern part of Massachusetts. He had received a liberal education, as a collegiate course of studies is at present, and in many instances most absurdly, called. Morton could, however, lay a just claim to be called liberally educated. He went to college without contemplating to pursue either of the three learned professions, but merely to acquire a more intimate acquaintance with the classics, history, belles lettres, and mathematics, than it was then supposed he could obtain elsewhere. People begin to think differently at the present period, and have a faint sort of notion that a boy can become qualified for the every day duties of life, or for practice in the three professions, without having received a diploma from a college, exclusively controlled in all its attitudes and relations by one particular sect of religion, or passing four years of "toil and trouble" in another university, where he is kept wallowing and smothering in the darkness of metaphysics or the more abstruse and higher! branches of mathematics; both sciences as utterly useless to him in any situation of life as a knowledge of the precise language that the devil tempted Eve in, and which some ecclesiastical writers have laboured to prove was High Dutch. I have been several times to different parts of the East Indies, and on more than one voyage have kept a reckoning out and home, assisted in taking lunar observations and those for determining the time and variation of the compass, and without knowing any more of algebra, fluxions, or conic sections, than a dog knows about his father.

After Morton had had the sacred A. B. "tailed on" to his name at a grand sanhedrim of solemn blacked-gowned fools, sagely called a commencement, because a youngster there finishes his studies, he felt a strong desire to visit "the round world and them that dwell therein," and, like many New England youth, not only then but within my own observation and time, and before the signature of the august "praeses" was dry on his sheep-skin diploma, was entered as an under graduate in a college of a somewhat different description—the forecastle of a large brig bound on a trading voyage up the Mediterranean—a school not one whit inferior to old Harvard itself for morality, and one where a man, with his eyes and ears open, might acquire information fifty times more valuable than any that could be drilled into him at any learned seminary whatever—a knowledge, namely, of the world and of human nature.

This habit, if it can be called one, of exchanging the quiet of a college room for the bustle and privations of a sea-life, is not near so prevalent now as it was several years since; and yet I have known many instances, and have repeatedly met, in merchantmen and men of war, men who have received a collegiate education, and have known one case, on board of an English line-of-battle ship, the Superb, of a dissenting minister, a foretopman, who could clear away a foul topsail-clewline, or explain an obscure passage in Scripture, with equal facility and address, and was both a smart seaman and a smart preacher:

"As some rats, of amphibious nature, Are either for the land or water."

It is a pity our professional men do not travel more, especially clergymen, who, though generally learned men, are not deep in the knowledge of their own species. Of course I do not apply this remark to the Methodist clergy; as their vagabond life makes them but too well acquainted with the weaknesses of one portion of the human race, while the alarming and arbitrary dominion they thereby acquire over the minds, bodies, and estates of both sexes, is beautifully illustrated in the trial, not many years since, of a reverend gentleman of oil of tansy and hay-stack celebrity.

Morton's first voyage was rather a long one, but it introduced him to the most interesting portion of the world, the nations bordering upon the Mediterranean, while his knowledge of the Latin language was of no small advantage to him in acquiring a knowledge of the Spanish and Italian—an advantage that he certainly did not think of, when he was plodding through Virgil and Horace, Cicero and Tacitus. He returned from his first voyage a thorough practical seaman, and more than tolerably acquainted with European languages. He rose in his profession, and might at the time we introduced him have commanded a ship; but a sudden desire to go at least one whaling voyage seized him, and a whaling he accordingly went. In person Morton was above the middling height, some inches above it, in short he had attained the altitude of five feet eight inches—my own height to a fraction. Like most young men born in New England, and who choose a seafaring life, his frame had acquired a robustness and solidity, his countenance a healthy brown, his chest a depth, and his shoulders a breadth, that are each and all considered—and with justice—by the present generation, as irrefragable proofs and marks of vulgarity. But folks thought otherwise thirty years since, and, however incredible it may appear, there are actually now in existence a great many painters, sculptors, anatomists, and perhaps as many as a dozen women, who persist in thinking that a human being looks much better as God made him, after his own image, than as the tailor makes him, after no image in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. Forty years since, ladies did not by tight lacing crush and obliterate all symptoms of fulness in the front of the bust, nor did gentlemen stuff and pad their clothes till they resemble so many wet-nurses in coats and breeches.

It was the established rule with novel-writers, and that until very lately, to represent their heroes as tall grenadier-looking fellows, never under six feet, and as much above as they dared to go, and keep within credible bounds. "Tall and slightly but elegantly formed," was the only approved recipe for making a hero. So that a black snake walking erect upon his tail, provided he had two of them, or an old-fashioned pair of kitchen tongs, with a face hammered out upon the knob by the blacksmith, would convey a tolerably correct idea of the proportions of the Beverleys, and Mortimers, and Hargraves, of a certain class of novels. Sir Walter Scott, Mr. James, and most of the best writers, have disbanded this formidable regiment of thread-paper giants, and we now see courage, manly beauty, talents, wit, and eloquence, reduced to a peace-establishment size, instead of those long-splice scoundrels, that used to go striding about our imaginations, like Jack the giant-killer in his seven-league boots, kicking the shins and treading on the toes of every common sized idea that came in their way.

It was also considered indispensably necessary, that the heroine should be "as long as the moral law," and accordingly we heard of nothing but "her tall and graceful figure," "her majestic and commanding height," &c. &c. Let those who prefer tall women take them; for my part, I wish to have nothing to say to such Anakim in petticoats: conceive the embarrassment and confusion of a common sized bridegroom compelled, before a room-full of company, to request his Titan of a bride to be seated, that he might greet her with the holy kiss of wedded love! On the other hand, it was by no means unusual to represent the heroine as a mere pigmy; so that the lovers whose destinies we were interested in, might be represented by the following lines from an old sea-song, which, for the benefit of musical readers I beg leave to observe, is generally "said or sung" to the tune of "The Bold Dragoons:"

"He looked like a pole-topgallant-mast, She like a holy-stone."

Thank Heaven! the taste for this species of writing has "had its day," and we have something better in the place of it. Bulwer has indeed tried very hard to compel the public to admire murderers and highwaymen, and our own dear, darling Cooper, the American Walter Scott, has held up for admiration and imitation sundry cut-throats, hangmen, pirates, thieves, squatters, and other scoundrels of different degrees, showing his partiality and fellow-feeling for the kennel; and, if he had not at last, as we say at sea, "blown his blast, and given the devil his horn," would have managed to set the whole female portion of the romance-reading community to whimpering and blowing their noses over the sorrows of Tardee and Gibbs—the wholesale pirates and murderers, the loves of Mina—the poisoner, the trials of Malbone Briggs—the counterfeiter, or the buffetings in the flesh that Satan was permitted to bestow upon the old Adam of that god-fearing saint, Ephraim K. Avery.

The hero of a novel of the by-gone class was always and ex officio a duellist; and though the best English writers err against morality and religion in following this absurd track, it may be urged in extenuation of their offence, that duelling is generally considered in Europe as part of a gentleman's education and accomplishments, and in this country to refuse a challenge brands a man with everlasting infamy, though the crime is held in the most profound speculative abhorrence, and every state has a whole host of theoretical punishments, never inflicted, for the violation of its equally theoretical laws, that are daily evaded, outquibbled, or broken, with impunity.

Morton's countenance we have taken the liberty to describe elsewhere. His disposition was naturally cheerful and mild, his temper even, and not easily provoked. Although somewhat inclined to taciturnity, yet when drawn out to converse upon any subject he was acquainted with, he was naturally fluent, and in his language pure and correct. He was a universal favorite with the youth of both sexes in his native town, and, during the intervals between his voyages, was always in demand when a Thanksgiving ball was contemplated, or a sleigh-ride, or a "frolic," as all such parties of pleasure were and still are called in New England. At sea he was always beloved, by both officers and seamen, for his nautical skill and good-nature. Notwithstanding the confinement that his duties made unavoidable, he had managed to make himself acquainted with men and manners, and, during the many leisure hours that those engaged in the whale-fishery always find, he had amused himself with drawing—for which he possessed a natural talent, reading, and keeping a sort of memorandum of different occurrences and his reflections upon the habits of the different nations he visited,—and was, in short, one of those somewhat rare but still existing prodigies, a well educated, well informed gentleman with a hard hand and short jacket, many individuals of which nearly extinct species of animals I have had the singular good fortune to fall in with during my voyage through life.



CHAPTER IX.

Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo—without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh! how art thou fishified!

ROMEO AND JULIET.

Upon his return to his dear native town, Morton was received by his father with his usual quiet affection; for old Mr. Morton was one of that nearly obsolete school of parents, husbands, and members of society, that do not think their duties in either relation require any sounding of trumpets, and who are of opinion that those who feel most deeply and sincerely religion, Christian charity, or human affections, are generally people who seldom make any parade of either. This sect seems to be very nearly extinct, or at least their leading principles, I have been told, are exploded from the creeds of modern saints; but as my acquaintance with modern saints is, thank God, very limited, I cannot vouch for the fact.

It was not long after Morton's return, when the young people of his own age and standing began to perceive an alteration in his manners, and that he, who was a leader in their gay parties, was now a moping, stupid, silent, dull creature, without any of his former animation and gaiety. The young ladies took it for granted that he was in love; and as it was evident that he was not in love with any of them, why of course some nymph in the Pacific had stolen his heart; and as, moreover, they had no idea of the existence in that remote and unknown quarter of creation of any females more fascinating than the amphibious and lascivious damsels of the Sandwich Islands, (to convert whom from the error of their ways, more missionaries have been sent out, or volunteered their services, than to all the rest of the "poor ignorant heathen" put together,) or the ladies of the North West Coast, who smell too strong of train-oil to comprehend the truths of Christianity, or rather of Calvanism, which is altogether another affair, and who are in consequence left in their original and antediluvian darkness.

Impressed with this idea, and feeling both grieved and mortified that so excellent a young gentleman as Charles Morton should give himself up to such an absurd and, in their estimation, unnatural passion, the young ladies of New Bedford determined to tease him out of it; much upon the same principle as the Roman emperors endeavored to suppress the Christian religion by exposing its professors to wild beasts: the wild beasts grew fat upon Christians, and Christianity grew fat and strong upon persecution. Perhaps if the diademed tyrants had treated it with indifference, the effects would have been otherwise.

Whenever poor Morton was met in company, he was always the object of ridicule to these lively and well-meaning young ladies.

"Pray, Charles, do tell us something about this lady-love of yours; what's her complexion?"

"How much train-oil does she drink in the course of a day?" said another.

"Or how much raw shark serves her for a meal?" asked a third.

"Does she wear a spritsail-yard through the gristle of her nose?" said a fourth.

"Or a brass ring in her under lip?" said a fifth.

"Is she tattooed on both cheeks, or only on one?" said a sixth.

Such was the peculiar style of banter to which he was sure to be subjected, whenever he went into company; and in a short time he abstained from visits, and devoted his time to perfecting himself in his nautical studies, and making diligent inquiries after vessels bound round Cape Horn. If ever you noticed it, madam, a man in love does not relish jokes at the expense of his idol. "Ne lude cum sacris," ecclesiastically rendered, signifies, do not make fun of the clergy; but among lovers it means, do not speak of my love with levity or contempt. I remember when I was in love for the third or fourth time—I was then studying trigonometry and navigation—my passion being unable to expend itself in sonnets to my mistress's eyebrow, I gave way to geometrical flights of fancy, and took the altitude of every apple-tree and well-pole in the neighborhood, and made my advances to her upon the principles of traverse sailing.

Nor was old Mr. Morton unconscious of the great alteration in his son's behaviour while at home, so unlike any thing he had ever observed before in him, and he saw the change with no small pain.

"The poor boy cannot have fallen in love," said the senior to himself; "there is nothing more amiable than a copper-colored squaw, beyond Cape Horn."

One Saturday evening, the old man, being comfortably installed in his leather-cushioned arm-chair, with his pipe and pitcher of cider (for merchants, forty years since, drank cider at a dollar the barrel, instead of London particular Madeira at five dollars the gallon, and the consequences were—no matter what), commenced the conversation:

"Ahem! well, Charles, my son, do you intend going to sea again, or would you prefer commencing business ashore? You are now at the age when most young men think of settling down for life. Let's see—you are five-and-twenty, are you not?"

"Five-and-twenty next month, father."

"Aye, true; well, it's strange, now I can never recollect your age without looking into the bible there. I recollect, now, it was so stormy that we did not dare to carry you to the meeting-house, and so Parson Fales christened you in this very room."

"I wish," said Charles, speaking with difficulty, "I wish, my dear sir, to make one more voyage round the Cape as soon as possible, and then I don't care if I never see a ship again."

"Well, that's strange enough; why, what have you seen in that part of the world so very enticing?"

"Enticing, indeed!" said the young man, springing from his chair, and hurrying across the room in agitation; "something that I must possess, or die!"

"Why, what a plague—why, what's got into the boy?" said the old gentleman, dashing down his pipe; "you haven't got be-devilled after those island girls, like a young fellow that I knew from Boston, who got so bewitched after the copper-skinned, amphibious jades, that his father was finally obliged to locate him there, as a sort of agent."

"O! no, no, no! she is as white as my own mother, well born, well educated, and a Protestant," said the son, hurrying his words upon each other; for he felt that the ice was broken, and saw the old gentleman's countenance lengthening fast; "oh, father, if you could but see her—if you but knew her—"

"Hum," quoth pa, "I dare say that sixty and twenty-five would agree to a charm on such a subject; but pray, how the deuce came this well born, well educated, white, protestant damsel in the Pacific, where the devil himself would never dream of looking for such a phenomenon?"

"It is a long story," said Charles.

"If that's the case," said the senior Mr. Morton, "you had better step down cellar, and draw another mug of cider."

So saying, he replenished his pipe, and disposed himself in an attitude of calm resignation. As our readers are already acquainted with the history of the rise and progress of young Morton's love, we shall say no more of his narrative than that towards the close of it, his father was surprised out of his gravity, and ejaculated the word "d—nation!" with great emphasis, at the same time, flinging his pipe into the fire, and exclaiming by way of sermon to his short and pithy text,

"Why the d—l didn't you bring her with you, you foolish boy? Why, you have no more spunk than a hooked cod-fish! You'll never see her again, if you make fifty voyages round the cape; she's in a nunnery by this time, or, what is more likely, married to that Don What-d'ye-call-him."

Charles could only repeat his conviction that neither event had taken place, and his firm reliance upon Isabella's constancy.

"Fiddle-de-dee! A woman's constancy! I would as soon take Continental money at par!" was his father's reply.

Their conversation on this interesting topic was protracted to a late hour, when they retired, the old gentleman to—sleep as sound as usual, and Charles to yield himself most unreservedly to the illusions of sanguine, youthful hope and love—that love that one never has very severely but once in his life; for love is like a squall at sea; the inexperienced landsman sees nothing alarming in the aspect of the heavens, and is both astonished and vexed at the bustle and hurry, the "thunder of the captain and the shouting;" but when it comes "butt-eend foremost," he suffers a thousand times more from his fears than the oldest sailors. After one has become acquainted with the disorder, he can distinguish its premonitory symptoms, and crush it in the bud, or let it run on to a matrimonial crisis. For my own part, I can always ascertain, at its first accession, whether it is about to assume a chronic form, or pass off with a few acute attacks.



CHAPTER X

O for a horse with wings!

CYMBELINE.

Morton's low spirits and anxiety, on his return home, arose entirely from his having ascertained that there was no vessel then fitting out for the Pacific, except whalemen; and as their route always depends upon circumstances, and can never be calculated beforehand with any degree of certainty, he declined several advantageous offers in them. A few days after the eclaircissement with his father, he learned to his inexpressible joy, that there was a ship fitting out at Salem for what was in those days somewhat facetiously denominated a "trading voyage;" that is, an exclusively smuggling one.

To Salem, then, he hastened, furnished with most ample and satisfactory letters of introduction and recommendation. He waited upon the owners of the ship, and was by them referred to Captain Slowly, then on board. At the very first glimpse of this gentleman, he felt convinced that there was no chance for a situation on board. Captain Slowly was one of those mahogany-faced, moderate, slow-moving, slow-speaking, slow-eating people, that one occasionally meets with in New England, who are the very reverse of Yankee inquisitiveness, and never answer the most ordinary question, not even "What o'clock is it?" in less than half an hour; men who, in short, as they never ask any questions themselves, think it not worth their while to answer any. We have been several times horrified by such people, and our fingers have always itched to knock them down.

"Good morning, Captain Slowly," said our friend Morton.

The captain, hearing himself addressed, went on very deliberately with the examination of a jib-sheet block that he held in his hand, turning it over and over, and spinning the sheave round with his finger, much after the manner of a monkey, with any object he does not understand—as, for instance, a nut that he cannot crack—and at last replied,

"Morning."

"I understand," said Morton, almost mad with impatience, "that you are in want of a first officer; or at least, so says Mr.——."

Captain Slowly, having cast the stops off a coil of running rigging, the main-top-gallant clewline, that lay at his feet, and fathomed it from one end to the other, examining all the chafed places with great attention, answered with, "Was you wanting to go out in the ship?"

"Yes sir," said Morton, who saw what kind of a dead-and-alive animal he had to deal with, and was determined to have an answer from him, if he beat it out with his fists; and though his heart revolted at the bare thoughts of passing at least a year in the same ship with such a stupid creature, yet it seemed to be his only chance for reaching the coast of Mexico in season; "yes sir, and the owners have directed me to you; they know that I am very desirous of going out in the ship, and they approve very much of my recommendations and certificates. My name is Charles Morton; I am the son of old General Jonathan Morton, of New Bedford; I was out last voyage with Captain Isaiah Hazard, of Nantucket, in the whaling ship Orion; I am perfectly well acquainted with the west coast of South America, from Baldivia to St. Joseph, and up the Gulf of California; I am about five-and-twenty years of age, and have been three voyages as mate of a vessel; for further particulars, I beg leave to refer you to the papers in my pockets; I am somewhat in a hurry, and should feel very much obliged if you would let me have your answer as speedily as possible."

Captain Slowly, who had never heard an oration of one quarter part the length addressed to himself before, seemed for a few minutes completely bewildered. At last, after drawing a prodigious long breath, he ejaculated, "Well, I declare, I never."

Morton, having waited a reasonable time to give the man a chance to recover his scattered faculties, at last asked, "Well, Captain Slowly, what do you think of it? shall we make a bargain?"

The captain was now completely startled out of his half existent state, and began to talk and act like a man of middle earth; that is, he began to ask questions.

"Well, let's see; you say you was 'long of old Captain Isaiah Hazard?"

"Yes; are you acquainted with him?"

"I've heard tell on him. Let's see, where do you belong?"

"To New Bedford; are you much acquainted down that way?"

"Some."

"Perhaps, then, you may know my father, old General Morton?"

"I've heard tell on him"——A pause, during which Captain Slowly took a fresh chew of tobacco, and Morton looked at his watch with great impatience——"Well, let's see; what kind of a time did you have on't 'long with old Captain Hazard?"

"Very good."

"Make a pretty good v'y'ge?"

"Middling: thirty-two hundred barrels."

"Well, I declare"—another pause—"well, let's see. Calculate to go round that way again?"

"Yes; and that's what I have called to see you about: the owners approve of me, and have sent me down to you, and I wish you would give me an answer."

"Well, I expect I'm supplied with both my officers."

"I thought that was what you was coming to. Good morning, sir."

"Won't you step down below, and take a little so'thing?"

"No, I thank you;" and Morton walked away, cursing him by all his gods.

After satisfying himself that there was no chance for him in Salem, he returned to Boston. Lounging about the wharves the next day, he was attracted towards a fine, large, new ship that was setting up her lower rigging. He drew near, to examine her more closely. Her guns were lying on the wharf, as were also her boats and spare spars. From the number of men employed, and the activity with which their operations were carried on, it was evident that the ship was to be off as soon as possible. Morton stepped on her deck: an elderly man, with a fine, open, manly countenance, expressive of great kindness of disposition and goodness of heart, was superintending the duty. Morton was about to address him, thinking to himself, "This is no Captain Slowly," when the senior gave him a nod, accompanied by that peculiar half audible greeting that passes between two strangers.

"You have a noble ship here, sir," said Charles, by way of starting the conversation.

"Yes, she is—so, nipper all that; Mr. Walker, you're getting that mainmast all over to starboard—yes, yes; she's a fine ship, that's certain. Your countenance seems familiar to me, and yet I can't tell where 'tis I've seen you."

"I belong to New Bedford; my name is Morton."

"Morton! what, old Jonathan Morton's son?"

"The same, sir."

"Why, d—n it, man, your father and I were old schoolfellows—and are you old Jonathan Morton's son?"

"Yes, sir; I have followed the sea ever since I left college, and am now looking for a voyage."

"Well, perhaps we can suit you; times are pretty brisk just now, and you will not be obliged to look long or far—and are you Jonathan Morton's son?"

After a short explanatory conversation, a bargain was made.

"And when will you be ready to commence duty?"

"I am ready this moment," was the answer of the impetuous young man.

"No you are not. Don't be in too big a hurry; take your own time;" and they parted, mutually pleased with each other; Morton treading upon air, and very much disposed to build castles and other edifices in that unquiet element.

Reader, if thou art a sailor, thou canst understand and appreciate the pleasure mixed with pain that fills and agitates the heart when thou hast unexpectedly obtained a voyage to thy liking. It is then that ideas come thick and fast into the mind, treading upon each other's heels, and climbing over one another's shoulders; the parting with much-loved friends; the anticipated delights of the voyage, seen through that bewitching, multiplying, magnifying glass, the imagination; the pride and delight that fills a seaman's breast as his eyes run over the beautiful proportions and lofty spars of his future home; all these feelings are worth, while they last, an imperial crown. But soon comes the reality, like Beatrice's "Repentance with his bad legs:" bad provisions, bad water, and not half enough of either; ignorant and tyrannical officers; a leaky, bad-steering, dull-sailing ship; the vexatious and harrassing duty of a merchantman, where the men are deprived of sufficient sleep, for fear that they should "earn their wages in idleness," and of a sufficient supply of wholesome food, lest they should "grow fat and lazy." Such is the theory and practice of most New-England merchants: it was different forty years since, and the outfit of the good ship Albatross had an eye to the comforts of the crew as well as the profits of the owners; for merchants then thought that the two were inseparable—the march of intellect has proved the reverse.

Although, as I have already taken occasion to observe, Fortune is peculiarly hostile to lovers, yet she is sometimes "a good wench," and so she proved herself, at least for a time. The passage of the Albatross from the cradle of liberty and aristocracy to Valparaiso was unusually short, considering that vessels outward bound at that period made a regular practice of stopping at Rio Janeiro, whether in want of supplies or not. She was singularly fortunate, likewise, in crossing the "horse latitudes," not being becalmed there much over a week, a period hardly long enough to call into proper exercise the Christian virtues of patience and resignation.

Her passage into the Pacific was shortened by another fortunate circumstance: Captain Williams was an adventurous as well as a skillful seaman, and having a steady breeze from the north-east, he ran boldly through the Straits of Le Maire, and thus shortened his passage perhaps by a month; for ships have been known to be four months off Cape Horn beating to the westward, and after all obliged to bear up and run for Buenos Ayres for supplies.



CHAPTER XI.

Behold The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, Bounding between the two moist elements, Like Perseus' horse.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

It was on a fine Sunday morning, in the month of December, 179-, that the oblique beams of the sun were reflected back by the snow white canvass of a stately ship of about six hundred tons, that with a fair wind, a good breeze, and all sail set, was steadily pursuing her course, somewhat east of north. She was in, or about, the latitude of eighteen north, and one hundred and fifteen degrees west of Greenwich; consequently, she was in the Pacific Ocean, and not far from the west coast of Mexico. The north-east trade-wind, which is generally almost due east, was sufficiently free to allow her to carry her starboard studding-sails, under which she flew gracefully and swiftly on her appointed course.

The weather, as usual within the limits of either trade-wind, was extremely beautiful and mild; the heat, that on shore in the same latitude would have been excessive, was moderated by the refreshing breeze. Indeed, it has never been my lot to find such lovely weather in any other part of this round world, as we meet with through the whole course of the trade winds. The long, regular swell, so peculiar to that part of the ocean, gave the noble ship a peculiarly easy, rolling motion, extremely grateful to a seaman, as the regularity and length of the swell is a certain indication of a continuance of good weather. As she lifted her huge bows above the foaming, sparkling wave, her bright copper, polished by dashing so long and so fast through the water, flashed in the sunbeams like burnished gold; at the same time, her temporary and partial elevation above the surface, revealed a sharpness of model below the water's edge, that at once accounted for the graceful and majestic swiftness of her motion. The whiteness of her canvass, and her bright-varnished sides, sufficiently indicated her to be a Yankee, without the trouble of hoisting the "gridiron."

Her stern "flared" a great deal; that is, its outline formed a very acute angle with the horizon, which was the fashion of building ships forty years since. It was ornamented with a great profusion of carved work, some of which was hieroglyphical, to a degree that would have puzzled Champollion; but over the centre were two figures in bas-relief, that could not well be mistaken, inasmuch as the sword and scales plainly indicated that the one on the starboard side was Justice, while the cap on the point of a lance "seemed to fructify" that her companion was no other than Miss Liberty.

Liberty goes bare-headed now—our rulers, wisely reflecting that she is upwards of fifty years old, and has arrived at years of discretion, have ordered her to leave off her child's cap. There are among us those who think that the stripping will go further, and that, in a short time, she will be as bare as Eve.

The noses of both goddesses had been knocked off shortly after they condescended to mount guard on the stern of the good ship Albatross, in consequence of coming into frequent collision with the gunwale of the jolly-boat, as she ascended and descended to and from her station at the stern davits. At her quarter davits, on each side, hung one of those light, swift, and somewhat singularly shaped boats, called whale-boats. Eight iron nine-pounders on each side, thrust their black muzzles through their respective ports, and gave her, in spite of her bright-varnished sides, a warlike appearance.

The upper part of her cut-water was fashioned into a scroll, like the volute of an Ionic pillar, forming what is called, by naval architects, a "billet head;" and which, for its neatness and beauty, is very generally adopted, both in national vessels and merchantmen. Nor was the bow without its share of hieroglyphics; on one side were displayed a bee-hive, a bale of cotton, and a crate of crockery; and on the other, a globe, an anchor, a quadrant, and a chart partly unrolled.

Her royals were set flying, a technicality that I shall not attempt to explain; she had no flying-jib, nor any of those pipe-stem spars that are got aloft only in port, to make a ship look more like the devil than she otherwise would, and are always sent down and stored away when she goes to sea. Ships, forty years since, carried no spars aloft but such as were stout enough to carry sail upon, in fair weather or foul—sliding-gunter sky-sail masts, and other useless sticks, were as much unknown to ship-builders and riggers, as railroads and steam-boats.

Sitting upon the weather hen-coop, attached to the companion, or entrance to the cabin, with spectacles on nose, and a well-worn bible on his knees, sat an elderly man, the commander of the ship. He was tall, and very strongly built; long exposure to the weather, in every variety of climate, had bronzed his countenance, and given him an older look than his real years would have done under other circumstances; but at the same time, long exposure to the weather had hardened his frame, and strengthened his constitution, points of some importance forty years since; so that his chances for a long life were much better than those of a man of forty, especially one of modern date, who had never allowed "the winds of heaven to visit his face too roughly." His age was, in short, about sixty. His countenance, notwithstanding the rude and ungenteel manner with which the winds and the weather had treated it, was indicative of much good-nature and benevolence of disposition. He raised his head from time to time, looked aloft at the sails, occasionally addressed a word or two to the mate of the watch, who was walking fore and aft the quarter-deck, and then resumed his reading.

In the weather mizen-shrouds was a remarkably handsome young man, of four or five and twenty, busily engaged in hanging out to air his "go-ashore" clothes; a very common Sunday morning occupation at sea, when the weather is fine. Apparently the sight of his gay garments had called up a train of ideas of a very varied and checkered hue, to judge from the different expressions that flitted across his fine manly countenance, at one moment shaded with anxiety and doubt, at another bright with hope and joy. In height he was about five feet eight or nine inches, strongly and compactly built, but far too stout and athletic, too broad-shouldered and thin-flanked, to pass muster as an exquisite in Broadway; as his form, though anatomically perfect, a model for a statuary, and considered very fine by the ladies of his acquaintance forty years since, would be altogether out of date at the present day. His countenance, of an oval form, and shaded by rich, curling, chesnut hair, from exposure to the weather, had acquired that healthy brown that ladies do not dislike in a young man's face, though they carefully eschew any thing that will in reality or imagination produce it in their own lovely physiognomies.