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His robes, he said, his mother had wove

From roots of an Indian tree; And he laughed at the clothes the seamen wore, With the merriest mockery.

When the little child had stayed with us,

May be an hour or so,

He smiled farewell to all on board,
And said that he would go.

"For I must be back again," said he,
"For me they all will wait ;
"I must be back again," quoth he,
"Before the day be late."

He shall not go! the Captain said;
Haul up his boat and oar !
The pretty boy shall sail with us

To the famous English shore !
Thou shalt with me, my pretty boy;
I'll find thee a new mother;
I've children three at home, and thou
To them shalt be a brother.

"Nay, nay, I shall go back!" he said;
"For thee I do not know

I must be back again," he cried,

"Before the sun be low !" Then sprang unto the vessel's side,

And made as he would go.

The Captain was a strong, stern man,
None liked him overwell;
And to a seaman standing near
Said he, with voice and look austere,

Haul up yon cockle-shell!
And you, my boy, content you,
In this good ship to dwell!

As one who gladly would believe

Some awful threat a joke,

So heard the child, with half a smile,

The words the Captain spoke.

But when he saw them seize his boat,

And put his oar away,

The smile was gone, and o'er his face
Quick passed a pale dismay.

And then a passion seized his frame
As if he were possessed;
He stamped his little feet in rage,

And smote upon his breast.

'Twas wicked deed as e'er was done
I longed to set him free;
And the impotence of his great grief
Was a grievous sight to me.

At length, when rage had spent itself,
His lofty heart gave way,
And falling on his pretty knees

At the Captain's feet he lay.
"O take me back again," he cried,
"Let me not tarry here,
And I'll give thee sea-apples,
And honey rich and clear;
And fetch thee heavy pearl stones
From deep sea-caves below;
And red tree gold and coral tree,
If thou wilt let me go!

Or if I must abide with thee,-
In thy great ship to dwell,
Let me but just go back again
To bid them all farewell!"
And at the word Farewell he wept,

As if his heart would break;
The very memory of his tears

Sore sad my heart doth make.
The Captain's self was almost moved
To hear his woful cry;

And there was not within the ship
One man whose eye was dry.

When the Captain saw the seamen's grief, An angry man was he,

And shut his heart against the child

For our great sympathy.

Down from the deck he took him

To his cabin all alone;
We saw him not for many a day,
But only heard his moan.

Ir was a wicked deed, and Heaven
All wickedness doth hate;
And vengeance on the oppressor,
It cometh soon or late,-

As you will see. There something was,
Even from the very night
Whereon the Captain stole the child,

On board that was not right.

From out the cabin evermore,

Where they were all alone, We heard, O piteous sounds to hear! A low and quiet moan;

And now and then cries sad enough To move a heart of stone.

The Captain had a conscious look,

Like one who doeth wrong,
And yet who striveth all the time
Against a conscience strong.

The seamen did not work at all

With a good will or a free; And the ship, as she were sullen too, Went slowly o'er the sea. 'Twas then the Captain from below Sent down in haste for me.

I found him lying on his bed
Oppressed with fever pain;
And by his death-struck face I saw
That he would not rise again,—
That he, so lately hale and strong,
Would never rise again.

"I have done wickedly," said he,

"And Christ doth me condemn ;—

I have children three on land," groaned he, "And wo will come to them!

I have been weighed, and wanting found
I've done an evil deed!—

I pray thee, Mate, 'tis not too late,
Take back this child with speed!

I have children three, again groaned he,
And I pray that this be done !—

Thou wilt have order of the ship

When I am dead and gone ;—
I pray thee do the thing I ask,
That mercy may be won!"

I vowed to do the thing he asked,
Upon the Testament;

And, true enough, that very day
To his account he went.

I took the little child away,
And set him on my knee,
In the fresh air upon the deck,
But he spoke no word to me.

I feared at first that all his grief
Had robbed him of his speech,
And that I ne'er, by word or look,
His sunken soul could reach.

At length he woke from that dead wo,
Like one that long hath slept,
And cast his arms about my neck,
And long and freely wept.

I clasped him close unto my breast,
Yet knew not what to say,
To wile from him the misery
That on his spirit lay.

At length I did bethink me

Of Jesus Christ; and spake To that poor lamb of all the wo He suffered for our sake.

For me and thee, dear child, I said,
He suffered, and be sure
God will not lay a pang on thee

Without he give the cure!"

Like as the heavy clouds of night
Pass from the coming day,
So cleared the sullen weight of wo
From his dear soul away.

O happy hours of converse sweet
The Christian's hope he knew,
And with an eager heart he gained
That knowledge sweet and new.

And ever by my side he kept, Loving and meek and still; But never more returned to him His bold and wayward will ;— He had been tried and purified From every taint of ill.

THE eve whereon the captain died
I turned the ship about,
And said unto the seamen good,
"We'll find the island out."

So back unto the place we came,

Where we the child had found; And two full days, with anxious watch, We sailed it all around.

And on the third, at break of day,

A far-off peak was seen ;
And then the lowlands rose to view,
All woody, rich, and green.

Down on his knees the child he fell,

When the mountains came in view, And tears ran streaming from his eyes,For his own isle he knew.

And, with a wildly-piercing tone,

He cried, "O mother dear,
Weep not, I come, my mother!"
Long, long ere she could hear.

And soon we saw a mountain-top
Whereon a beacon burned;

Then as the good ship neared the land,
An answer was returned.

"O give to me my boat!" he cried,

"And give to me mine oar !" Just then we saw another boat

Pushed from the island shore.

A carved boat of sandal-wood,
Its sail a silken mat,
All richly wrought in rainbow-dyes,
And three within her sat.

Down from the ship into the sea
The little boy he sprung;

And the mother gave a scream of joy,
With which the island rung.

Like some sea-creature beautiful
He swam the ocean-tide,
And ere we wondered at his skill
He clomb the shallop's side.

Next moment in his mother's arms
He lay, O sweet embrace!
Looking from her dear bosom up
Into her loving face.

The happiest and the sweetest sight
That e'er my eyes will see,

Was the coming back of this poor child
Unto his family!

-Now wot ye of his parentage?

Sometime I'll tell you it :

Of meaner matter many a time
Has many a book been writ.
'Twould make a pleasant history
Of joy scarce touched by woe,
Of innocence and love; but now
This only you must know.
His mother was of English birth,
Well-born, and young, and fair;
In the wreck of an East-Indiaman
She had been saved there.

His father was the island's chief,
Goodly as man can be ;
Adam, methinks, in Paradise
Was such a one as he.

'Tis not for my weak speech to tell
The joy so sweet and good,
Of these kind, simple islanders,
Nor all their gratitude.

Whate'er the island held they gave ;
Delicious fruits and wines,
Rich-tinted shells from out the sea,
And ore from out their mines.

But I might not stay; and that same day Again we turned about,

I

And, with the wind that changed then
Went from the harbor out.

'Tis joy to do an upright deed;
'Tis joy to do a kind;

And the best reward of virtuous deeds
Is the peace of one's own mind.

But a blessing great went with the ship,
And with the freight she bore;

Mr. Purley,

The pearl-shells turned to great account,
So did the island's ore ;-
But I someway lost my reckoning,
Nor found the island more.

And how the child became a man,
Or what to him befel,

As I never trod the island more,
Is not for me to tell.

SECOND LETTER FROM PHILADELPHIA.
Philadelphia, July 21, 1840.

WILL now give you some further account of my travels, and tell you about some of the sights of this beautiful city.

The first place which strangers generally visit, and which is well worth coming here to see, is the Philadelphia museum, which is now arranged in the splendid new building in Ninth street, in one of the largest rooms in the United States. It is the best and most extensive collection in the country, as well as one of the oldest. I will not attempt to enumerate the vast number and variety of specimens here congregated from all quarters of the globe; there is the huge skeleton of the mastodon or mammoth, the largest beast known; the great elephant Columbus, and a huge rhinoceros, besides innumerable other large and small animals, all arranged in the most perfect order. There is also a fine gallery of portraits, comprising all our great men, and many of other nations.

I spent two hours there and then went down stairs to the lower story of the buil

MARY HOWITT.

ding, where is the Chinese museum-a much greater novelty than the one we had just left. It is the most extensive and rich, if not the only, collection of the kind in the world, comprising every thing that could be obtained of interest in that vast empire; models as large as life of every profession and trade, from the emperor down to the street mendicant; appearing almost as if alive, so well are they imitated. Philadelphia may well be proud of possessing such collections as these two museums, and no stranger should leave the city without paying them a visit.

The next day we went down to the Exchange and got into a rail road car and rode out to Fairmount, which is the chief pride of Philadelphians; and it certainly is a most ingenious and beautiful work. The Schuylkill river is pumped up to the top of a high hill, which contains four large basins, from which the water descends and supplies the whole city with an inexhaustible quantity of most excellent water, at a very small expense. This is also one reason why we so seldom hear of a large fire in this city,

as there is always such an abundant sup- the principal one of which extends eight -ply of water at hand to extinguish it.

They have here also several very pretty public squares, which, though not so large as our Boston common, are I think rather pleasanter, as they are planted with plenty of large trees, making the walks cool and shady; while, you know, in the common there are no large trees except on its borders, which to be sure are very shady, but all the rest is exposed to the rays of the sun. I ought to say however that a few years will remedy this defect, as young trees are growing beside all the footpaths.

Another thing, which we have not so extensive in Boston, is their markets,

A LITERARY CHARACTER.

squares in length, and is abundantly furnished with every thing good. There are four or five others in different parts of the city, though none so large as the one in Market street.

Whatever else they excel in, they do not come up to us in steam ships, as I see by the papers the Britannia has arrived at Boston in less time than the British Queen. I wish she would wait until I get back, so that I could see her. My uncle tells me I have had a long enough holiday, and that I must begin to think of coming home. I have not time to write more at present. Yours truly,

RIDDLE.

I HAVE long maintained a distinguished station in our modern days, but I cannot trace my origin to ancient times, though the learned have attempted it. After the revolution in 1688, I was chief physician to the king; at least in my absence he ever complained of sickness. Had I lived in ancient days, so friendly was I to crowned heads, that Cleopatra would have got off with a sting; and her cold arm would have felt a reviving heat. I am rather a friend to sprightliness than to industry; I have often converted a neutral pronoun into a man of talent: I have often amused myself with reducing the provident ant to indigence; I never meet a post-horse without giving him a

S. G. W.

blow; to some animals I am a friend,

and many a puppy has yelped for aid when I have deserted him. I am a patron of architecture, and can turn every thing into brick and mortar; and so honest withal, that whenever I can find a pair of stockings I ask for their owner. Not even Lancaster has carried education so far as I have: I adopt always the sys tem of interrogatories. I have already taught my hat to ask questions of fact; and my poultry questions of chronology. With my trees I share the labors of my laundry; they scour my linen ; and when I find a rent, it is I who make it entire.

In short, such are my merits, that whatever yours may be, you can never be more than half as good as I am. The Answer will appear in our next.

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