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, "For I must be back again," said he, He shall not go! the Captain said; To the famous English shore ! "Nay, nay, I shall go back!" he said; 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, Haul up yon cockle-shell! 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 And then a passion seized his frame And smote upon his breast. 'Twas wicked deed as e'er was done At length, when rage had spent itself, At the Captain's feet he lay. Or if I must abide with thee,- As if his heart would break; Sore sad my heart doth make. And there was not within the ship 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; Ir was a wicked deed, and Heaven As you will see. There something was, 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, 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 "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 pray thee, Mate, 'tis not too late, I have children three, again groaned he, Thou wilt have order of the ship When I am dead and gone ;— I vowed to do the thing he asked, And, true enough, that very day I took the little child away, I feared at first that all his grief At length he woke from that dead wo, I clasped him close unto my breast, 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, Without he give the cure!" Like as the heavy clouds of night O happy hours of converse sweet 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 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 ; 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, And soon we saw a mountain-top Then as the good ship neared the land, "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, Down from the ship into the sea And the mother gave a scream of joy, Like some sea-creature beautiful Next moment in his mother's arms The happiest and the sweetest sight Was the coming back of this poor child -Now wot ye of his parentage? Sometime I'll tell you it : Of meaner matter many a time His father was the island's chief, 'Tis not for my weak speech to tell Whate'er the island held they gave ; But I might not stay; and that same day Again we turned about, I And, with the wind that changed then 'Tis joy to do an upright deed; And the best reward of virtuous deeds But a blessing great went with the ship, Mr. Purley, The pearl-shells turned to great account, And how the child became a man, As I never trod the island more, SECOND LETTER FROM PHILADELPHIA. 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. |