RIO DE JANEIRO.
_June 20th._—On entering this port on the 16th inst., we all felt anew
the exciting influence of its wild and magnificent scenery, and were
constrained again to pronounce it unrivalled, by any thing seen by us in
any part of the world.
The last report of the health of the place which had reached us at
Montevideo, was favorable. The yellow fever, after having prevailed a
second season as an epidemic, was said to have disappeared. Our
apprehensions on this point were excited for a time, however, as we came
in, by perceiving the man-of-war anchorage to be entirely deserted. In
place of three or four different squadrons, English, French, Brazilian,
Portuguese and American, riding at their moorings, like a flock of
water-fowl, not a solitary ship was discoverable: nor was there a sign
of movement of any kind, on the whole bay. This we thought ominous of
bad news, but happily without just cause. The first boat from the shore,
assured us of the good health of the port. Whatever malaria may exist
has lost its malignancy, and exhibits itself only in cases of imprudence
and special exposure, in the milder types of intermittent fever. It is
the winter season, or period at which the sun has reached its farthest
remove in this latitude, and all nature is in double freshness and
brilliancy. The coloring of the skies in the mornings and evenings is
beautiful: this is especially the case after sunset, when at times a
golden and vermilion glory has filled the west with a splendor I do not
recollect to have seen surpassed. The effect of this upon the pinnacled
rocks and precipices of the mountains—brought into bold relief by the
shades of the hour—and upon the promontories and islets of the bay, the
church and convent towers, and the leading architecture of the city, is
gorgeous. This was particularly the case, an evening or two ago, while
Dr. C—— and I were enjoying a stroll over Gloria Hill. Our progress was
arrested by it: and after standing for some time in silent admiration of
the picture presented, from the elevated terraces in front of the
church, we joined in the exclamation, “no words in our own or any other
language can describe such a scene: painting itself could do no justice
to it!”
The temperature now, even at mid-day, is not too hot for exercise, the
mean height of the thermometer being 73° Fahrenheit. The weather
resembles that of the finest in June at home; the evenings and nights,
however, are cooler. This is the general character of the weather from
March to September; and nothing in climate can be finer. During the rest
of the year, the heat, with the mercury at mid-day at 90°, is oppressive
and debilitating.
We have renewed our acquaintance pleasantly with Don Juan and Doña M——,
and are disposed to regard the simplicity of mind and heart, evidenced
by them, the kindness of their manners, and the cordiality of their
hospitality, as characteristic of the people of the country in general;
and to believe that they would be manifested to all foreigners of
respectability, as readily as to us, under circumstances to call them
into exercise. Our friends of Praya Domingo, however, make no secret of
the fact that our nationality is a strong recommendation to them. Both
profess great admiration of the United States as a nation, not from what
they have seen of its citizens—for we are the first and only Americans
they have known—but from what they have heard and read of our history
and condition, and the practical working of our institutions.
I have taken but one new walk: this was through the valley of the
Larangeiras, in company with Captain McIntosh and Dr. C——. Much as I had
often admired its general features, in passing through the open street
of the Cateté, from which it branches westward to the mountains, the
heat of the weather, and its distance from the ordinary landing,
prevented a visit to it. It is a half mile, perhaps, in width at the
entrance, but soon becomes only a narrow glen, terminating at the end of
a couple or more miles, beneath the steep sides of the overhanging
mountain. A fine carriage road winds through it, crossing and recrossing
repeatedly a sparkling mountain stream, which brawls and babbles and
murmurs, from side to side. It is charming throughout: so quiet and
secluded, so embowered and rural, so fresh in atmosphere and luxuriant
in growth, and so varied in the architecture of its dwellings, from the
ornamented villa and sculptured palace, to the simplest and most humble
of cottages. The orange and coffee tree, the banana and other
broad-leaved vegetation of the tropics, cluster thickly around; and are
overshadowed by the loftier growth of the magnificent mango, the
towering palm, the feathery foliage of the tamarind and acacia, and here
and there that of the thorny cotton-tree or Bombax, with its trunk and
limbs well guarded by the defences which give to it a descriptive name.
Roses and jessamines, and brilliantly flowering creepers; the gay
hybiscus, the thick-set bloom of the purple bignonia, and the gorgeous
glare of the poinsetta, meet the eye at every turn, and fill the air
with sweet perfumes. In contrast with our imprisonment on board ship at
Montevideo, it was a luxury scarcely appreciable by others, to stroll
amidst such imagery; with an occasional glimpse, through an open gateway
or the ornamental railings of an enclosure, of the fountains and
grottoes, the alcoves and bowers, the gravelled walks and tesselated
pavements, the busts, the statues and statuettes, which embellish the
grounds of those “rich in this world’s goods.”
Near the head of the valley, a winding pathway on one side leads up the
acclivity by steep ascent, to the line of the aqueduct, fifteen hundred
feet above the level below. One section of this is peculiarly beautiful.
It overhangs the valley, and embowered overhead, reminded me forcibly
and pleasantly in many of its features—with the exception of the
tropical growth—of the gravelled terrace of the old road at Cooperstown,
which leads to the “Mount Vison” of Cooper’s Pioneers. In a secluded
nook near by, is the residence of the British minister: an irregular
cottage, buried in shade, and vocal with the murmurings of
water-courses. After passing this, as we gained height after height, and
looked down with bird’s-eye view, the Larangeiras and its surroundings
seemed, in the lights and shades of the hour, like a sketch in fairy
land.
The fatality in the city, of the late epidemic, has led to the
construction, recently, of great numbers of residences along the spurs
and sides of the mountains. One of these is just finished, near the
point at which we reached the aqueduct. The site is superb; and, while
resting from the fatigue of the sharp ascent, we greatly enjoyed the
magnificent prospect of both land and sea which it commands. From this
point, the descent of five miles along the aqueduct to the city is so
gradual, for the greater part of the way, as to be almost imperceptible.
For two miles the pathway is a lofty terrace, cut in the face of the
mountain for the course of the aqueduct, from which, beneath overhanging
trees, you look up on one side, upon steep rocks and wild woods, and
down on the other, as from the parapets of a lofty castle, upon a
succession of views of cultivated and surprising beauty. Indeed, the
whole walk seemed to me like that through a picture-gallery of
magnificently drawn, and gorgeously colored landscapes. The aqueduct
does not follow a straight line, but runs zigzag, at long, obtuse
angles. The pathway is beside it, and in following its course, new and
varied vistas, both before and behind, are constantly presented. The
massive masonry, and finished workmanship of the time-marked, and
moss-covered old structure, contrast strongly in their aspect of
civilization, with the wildness of the overhanging cliffs and forests,
while in many places, the gay coloring of the endless variety of lichens
and orchidæ which cover it, gives to the surface the appearance of
richly variegated marble.
Before we reached the city, the shades of the evening had gathered
around us, as deeply as the moon near her second quarter would allow.
Many of the objects around and above us, were thus brought in bold
outline against the sky. This effect was particularly beautiful, where
the palm or cocoa-nut tree spread its long and graceful plumage, in dark
masses upon the light beyond.
The last striking picture which met the eye as we descended the hill of
Santa Theresa, was that of a family, grouped in an arbor of roses and
honeysuckle, canopied with clustering bignonia, on the angle of a wall
twenty feet above our heads, silently enjoying in the twilight the last
fannings of the sea-breeze, while from the towers of the convent close
by, the vesper bell sent forth its silvery sounds in invitations to
prayer.
_June 26th._—It is to the Romish Church that we are here chiefly
indebted for every thing in the way of spectacle. Two principal feast
days have occurred within the week past: that of Corpus Christi on the
19th, and that of St. John the Baptist on the 24th inst. The fête of
Corpus Christi was observed with great display. It was instituted by
Urban IV., six hundred years ago, in honor of the then newly adopted
doctrine of transubstantiation, and consequent adoration of the host.
Its legendary origin is traced to Juliana, a nun of Liege, who, while
looking at the full moon, saw a gap in its orb, and by peculiar
revelation from heaven, learned that the moon represented the Christian
Church, and the gap the want of a festival for the adoration of the body
of Christ, in the consecrated wafer. This she was to begin to celebrate,
and to announce to the world. The authorization of the festival by papal
bull, was induced by the following miraculous incident. While a priest,
who did not believe in the change of the bread into the body of Christ,
was going through the ceremony of benediction, drops of blood fell upon
his surplice, which, when he endeavored to conceal them in the folds of
his garment, were formed into bloody images of the host. His scepticism
was thus overcome; and the bull of Urban, authorizing the adoration, was
published. This occurred in 1264, and the bloody surplice is still shown
at Civita Vecchia as a relic!
In Rio de Janeiro, as in all papal countries, Corpus Christi is a chief
festival in the year. Its celebration was commenced at the dawn of day,
by a general peal of the bells from every church and convent tower, by
the booming of cannon along the shores, and the hissing and crackling of
rockets in the sky. Flags were every where unfurled; draperies of silk
and satin, of gold and silver tissue, of damask and velvet of every hue,
were displayed, from the windows and balconies of the houses in the
principal streets; and the windows of the palace ornamented on the
outside with rich hangings of crimson damask. High mass was performed in
the imperial chapel at 11 o’clock. This was now opened for the first
time, after having been for a year undergoing a thorough renovation, by
regilding and new painting in fresco. The effect is rich and chaste. On
either side of the nave, between the entrance and the transept, are the
shrines of the apostolic saints, above which hang paintings of each,
with the accustomed emblems of their individuality. “The Supper,” by a
master, ornaments the altar of a side chapel at one end of the transept,
and a beautifully executed and classically draped effigy of St. Julian
in wax, in a sarcophagus of glass, adorns the other. The altar-piece of
the grand altar covers the entire end of the chapel within the chancel.
The subject is the assumption of the Virgin. The royal family of
Portugal—at the time of the immigration—in attitudes of adoration,
occupy the foreground: the Queen mother, John VI. and his wife, Carlota
of Spain, and Don Pedro I., then a lad, being the chief figures.
The imperial body-guard in state dresses, with halberds at rest, early
formed in lines on either side of the nave from the entrance to the
transept. The intervening space, newly carpeted, was in reserve for the
ministers of state, the officers of the household, and other dignitaries
of the Empire. A procession of these soon made its appearance from a
vesting-room communicating with the palace, and opened in file along the
nave for the passage of the bishop and his ecclesiastical attendants to
the chancel, and of the Emperor, who followed them, to a canopied throne
near the high altar. The Empress and her ladies had already entered the
imperial tribune facing the throne. The bishop was in full prelatic
dress, wearing his mitre and bearing the gilded crosier emblematic of
his office. When the chapel was thus filled, the coup d’œil presented a
brilliant scene in the masses of rich embroideries in gold; the jewelled
decorations of the dignitaries of state; and the court dresses of the
different classes of the aristocracy. These last were chiefly of velvet
in rich hues, lined with white silk—purple, maroon, mazarine and sky
blue, light and dark green, and here and there a suit of the same of
plain black.
The orchestra was full, and embraced the best performers of the opera
company, both vocal and instrumental. As the service proceeded, the
varied attitudes and groupings in the chancel and at the altar, of the
officiating priests
“Glaring in gems and gay in woven gold;”
the floating incense; the harmony of the duo, the trio, and the
quartette; the touching strains of the solo; and the burst of the full
chorus, could scarcely fail to impress the senses. And when added to
this general effect, at the elevation of the host each halberdier, with
battle-axe reversed, dropped on his bended knee; every courtier bowed
his forehead to the ground; the bishop humbled himself at the steps of
the altar, and the Emperor kneeled on the platform of his throne; the
whole tableau was one most striking in its dramatic show. Externally all
was a profoundness of adoration, which, directed spiritually to the
Godhead, would have been irresistibly impressive; but addressed to a
mere wafer, and to be regarded as gross idolatry, it was both painful to
the mind and saddening to the heart.
Long before the termination of the mass, a procession was marshalled in
front of the chapel in the palace-square, awaiting the addition from the
church of the ecclesiastics and the court, before moving through some of
the principal streets. The leading group was unique; and apparently the
most attractive part to the surrounding crowds. It consisted of a
colossal effigy of St. George, in knightly armor, mounted upon a
splendidly caparisoned charger from the Emperor’s stud, led by a groom
in oriental dress. An armor-bearer in black mail, and other attendants
in characteristic costume, formed the suite; while a dozen led horses in
housings of green cloth, stiff with the imperial arms in massive silver,
completed the cortège of the pasteboard saint All else in the show was
purely ecclesiastic, with a great display of the varied costumes and
emblematic devices of the Romish Church. At the end of the religious
service, the dignitaries, both of Church and State, fell into the line,
and were followed by the host, borne by the bishop beneath a fringed and
tasselled canopy of cloth of gold, one of the gilt supporters of which
was held by the Emperor with uncovered head.
Don Pedro, wherever seen, bears inspection well; and carries with him as
much of the impress of his station as any monarch I have seen.
There was no public procession on St. John’s day, but its approach was
heralded by a great setting off of rockets and other fireworks the night
previous, and the glare of bonfires in different parts of the city.
These were seen with fine effect from the ship; especially the rockets,
with the dark mountains for a background. The evening following was
observed in a similar manner: altogether like the night of the fourth of
July at home. At every respectable-looking house, fireworks of more or
less elaborate workmanship were displayed; rockets of all descriptions
were shooting in brilliant corruscations through the air; and
illuminated balloons sent up, while colored lamps, thickly clustered
upon the convents crowning the hills, flashed through the darkness like
diadems of diamonds.
_July 2d._—On a former visit at Rio, I gave you some account of the
Foundling Hospital and Female Orphan Asylum, in connection with the
marriage of an éleve of the last. This is the second of July, the fête
day of St. Elizabeth—that on which the asylum is open to visitors, and
on which, usually, the marriages of such of the inmates as are under
engagement take place. The Emperor and Empress were among the visitors
to-day, and sanctioned by their presence the marriage of four couples in
the chapel. The anniversary had been fixed upon, for throwing open to
public inspection a new building for the Hospital of the Misericordia,
of which both the Foundling Hospital and Orphan Asylum are appendages. I
improved the opportunity to pass through the wards of the sick. These
were in the most perfect order and neatness. Every possible provision
seemed to be made for the care and comfort of the inmates; and the whole
establishment gave evidence of fulfilling the benevolence of its design.
The practical benevolence of the Romish Church is exhibited in no form
more general and commendable, than in the care which is taken of the
poor and the sick. Rio abounds in hospitals for these. Some are
connected with convents or monasteries, and others are separate and
independent institutions. They are founded and sustained by incorporated
societies, corresponding in their general features with the voluntary
organizations with us at home for philanthropic and charitable purposes,
but here called brotherhoods. These are of various names; that of the
Misericordia or “House of Mercy,” is the largest and most wealthy, and
owes its origin, nearly three centuries ago, to the piety and
benevolence of the celebrated Jesuit, Anchieta. The hospital is situated
on the bay beneath Castle Hill. Its doors are open at all hours, night
and day, to the sick of both sexes, of all religions and of every
country and color, without any form or condition of admittance: all
receive gratuitously the ablest medical attendance and the best nursing
and care. The numbers of its patients amount to thousands yearly, the
proportion of deaths occurring being about one-fifth of the whole
received.
The original building is old, and has been long insufficient in its
dimensions and convenience, for the numerous applicants for relief. A
new structure has been for ten years and more in progress on an
adjoining site. A large section of this, two-thirds of the whole plan,
is now completed, and was opened to the public for the first time
to-day. The edifice is a noble structure. The façade on the street of
the part finished being four hundred feet. It is four stories in height,
and is surmounted, in the centre, by a finely proportioned and
symmetrical dome. The whole presents the finest architectural feature of
the city, in the approach from the sea. The interior throughout is
palace-like. The plan is admirably arranged for ventilation and light,
and embraces every modern improvement for the insurance of cleanliness
and purity. The structure is quadrangular. The parts already finished
enclose two spacious courts, beautifully laid out in walks intermingled
with flower-gardens and shrubberies, as places of exercise for the
convalescent. Each is ornamented with a fountain; when the building
shall be completed, corresponding courts on the new part are to be
added. The perspective through the long corridors and the lofty wards,
which communicate with each other the whole length by folding-doors, is
exceedingly fine: indeed, the whole structure is a credit to the
civilization of the age, and is a splendid monument of the munificence
and benevolence of the Brotherhood of Mercy.
The institution embraces a department for the insane. For the separate
accommodation of such patients, another imperial-like structure is in
progress and nearly completed, on the beautiful bay of Botafogo. It
already attracts the eye of the stranger entering the port, more than
any other object in the surrounding panorama. Of this the Emperor has
been a principal and munificent patron.
The possessions and funded capital of the Misericordia are very great.
The dying bequests of the charitable, in money and in real estate, for
the long period of centuries, with the advance of value in property,
make it one of the most richly endowed institutions of the Empire, and
insure perpetuity to its worthy and Christ-like charities. Membership is
secured by the payment of an initiation fee and an annual subscription:
this guarantees the right to a support in sickness and in poverty, and
to the religious services of the church in burial. Members to the
brotherhoods are received at any age, even that of the merest childhood.
On one occasion, I witnessed the ceremonies of an initiation to the
fraternity of the Carmelites. It took place with much ceremony in the
church of the order. A very large number were received, and included
boys from the ages of five and six years to full manhood. Assembled in
the sacristy, each placed over his ordinary dress a cape or mantle of
silk, the badge of the order on occasions of ceremony, and each
receiving from the appointed officers a consecrated amulet, a girdle of
patent leather, and a rosary, walked in procession to the grand altar of
the church. The whole building was in high decoration, with a superb
display of gold and silver plate on the altar, and of reading desks of
solid silver in the chancel. The dresses of the officiating priests, and
the officers of the society, were new and rich; and the music of the
first order. The ceremonies of the initiation consisted in verbal
pledges on the part of the novitiates, anointings, crossings,
sprinklings with holy water, and perfuming with incense, and were
followed with showers of rose-leaves scattered widely from silver
salvers, over the newly received.
_July 22d._—The principal incident of the last few days has been a
wedding, on the 20th, in the family of Mr. R——, the bride being Miss
R——, his daughter. The marriage took place at the residence of Mr M——,
the maternal grandfather of the lady, who holds a chief place among the
merchant princes of Rio. It is situated seven or eight miles westward
from the city, beyond the valley of Engenho Velho, beneath the mountains
of Tejuca. Our commander-in-chief, to a seat with whom I had been
invited, is a man of great simplicity in his habits of life, and averse
to any thing like display in his movements. The appearance, therefore,
of a showy equipage with four horses—as the carriage which he had
directed to be in waiting at the landing—took him quite by surprise, and
led to an order immediately for the dismissal of two of the animals; but
to this the coachman objected so strongly, with the assurance from his
master that the four would be found necessary before reaching our
destination, and that no one ever drove to Mr. M——’s with a single pair,
that the Commodore was obliged to submit. So, ordering his valet, who
happened to be in attendance, to mount to his place—that there might be
some keeping in the turn-out—we were off with a whirl, four-in-hand.
The drive, for the greater part of the way, was the same we had made in
our visits to the country-seat of Mr. R——. While yet a couple of miles
from our destination, we had full proof of the desirableness at least,
of having four horses to the carriage. Though there has scarcely been
any rain for a fortnight past, the road through the flat valley, in a
soil of stiff clay, became so heavy that it was difficult for the four
to save us from being fixed in the mire, in which the wheels at times
were sunk to the hubs. In due time, however, we reached the stately
gateway, by which the broad domain of Mr. M—— is entered. This is a
semicircular structure of white marble, with massive gates and railing
of cast iron in rich patterns: erected at a cost of more than seven
thousand dollars. The drive from this to the house is a broad avenue of
closely planted mango trees. The mango is one of the noblest of what may
be called the civilized trees of the country, in contradistinction to
the natives of the forest. In its loftiness, roundness of top,
wide-spread limbs, and thickset foliage of deep green, it resembles the
black ash of the Middle States, more than any tree familiar to you,
which occurs to my recollection at the moment: the general outline is
perhaps more spreading. It is the season of its blossoms, though these
are not yet in full display. The flowers come out in spikes, like those
of the horse chestnut, and rise thickly over the whole tree. Their
color, while now yet in bud, varies from a light pea-green to a brownish
red, the general effect being like that of the common chestnut when in
bloom; when fully blown, however, the flowers are white. These, when
close at hand, contrast beautifully with the dark green of the leaf;
but, at a distance, present an almost indistinguishable mass of
whiteness.
The want of neatness and good keeping in the grounds of Brazilian
country-houses is observable, even in those of Mr. M——, though his
residence is quite a palace, and his wealth estimated by millions. The
mansion is of stone, massively built, and about eighty feet square. The
general height is two stories, but a central section, having an
ornamented pediment and entablature, rises to three. It is in the
Italian style, with balustrades around the flat roof surmounted by
marble vases filled with aloes. The façade in extent and in general
effect reminds me of the President’s house at Washington. A spacious
portico with tesselated pavements, leads into a lofty hall, from which a
staircase with a double flight of steps conducts to the drawing-rooms,
on the second floor. The principal rooms of the ground floor are a
dining-hall, ball-room, music-room, and chapel. The views are beautiful.
That in front commands the entire plain, filled with the country-houses
of the rich and their surroundings, the spires and towers of Rio, and
the mountains across the bay, in the distance; and that in the rear, a
great variety of wild mountain scenery, in primitive luxuriance and
solitude, close at hand.
We were among the first to arrive, but were quickly followed by a large
company, among whom were many richly attired ladies. Rich and
fashionable dress is here peculiarly a passion with the sex; and I was
told by a gentleman present, when speaking on the subject, that a lady
would not think of moving in general society in Rio, without an
allowance for the toilette of at least two thousand dollars a year.
The groom being an Englishman, the marriage as a civil contract had
taken place early in the day, at the British Consulate: he being a
Protestant also, while the bride is a Roman Catholic, the religious
rites were twofold—Romish and Protestant Episcopal. Contrary to the
usage at home, the bridal party joined the general company in the
drawing-rooms while the guests were assembling. When all expected had
arrived, Mr. M——, the grandfather, who in the Romish ceremony was to
give away the bride, approached, and taking her by the hand, led the
long procession to the private chapel below. The service was performed
by the priest of the Parish, who is also the family chaplain, in the
sacerdotal robes of his grade.
It was in the Portuguese language, and much abbreviated, we were told,
from the fact that one of the parties was a Protestant. Immediately
after the benediction, when the parties had been proclaimed man and
wife, female servants in the rear of the chapel scattered from baskets
of silver, over the bride and her party, as she turned from the altar to
meet the embraces of her friends, handfuls of freshly gathered
rose-leaves and orange-blossoms. The effect, as fluttering lightly
through the air they fell in thick showers on the group and the whole
company, was poetic and pretty.
The Protestant ceremony, conducted by the Rev. Mr. Graham, Rector of the
British church in the city, took place immediately afterwards in the
principal drawing-room, a magnificent apartment, with hangings and
furniture of crimson damask and decorations of gold. The closing scene
here, in place of the shower of rose-leaves and orange-flowers of the
chapel, was the tableau presented by the bride kneeling on a rich
footstool in the midst of her bridesmaids, receiving with bowed head and
tearful eyes the touching blessing with which the Episcopal rite ends.
The marriage-feast, of sixty covers, was served in the ball-room, a
lofty hall with decorations in white and gold. The entertainment, in the
display of china, glass, and plate, and of flowers in vases of Sèvres
manufacture; in ornamental confectionery, and the profusion of luxurious
viands, was all that wealth in its liberality and taste in its artistic
exercise could command.
On shipboard, two incidents of more than commonplace interest have
occurred since my last date. One is the departure for the United Stages
of Lieut. R—— in ill health from the effects of the climate. In this,
the wardroom mess and the ship sustain a great loss. He is one of the
most interesting young men I have known in the service. Firm in
principle, cultivated in mind, clear in judgment, prudent in action, and
accomplished in his profession, he exhibits great symmetry of character
as an officer, while the frankness and polish of his manners, and the
warmth of his affections, make him attractive as a companion and dear as
a friend.
My last interview with him before he left the ship was most gratifying
to me, from the assurance it gave, that to the many other attractions of
his character there would be added, immediately on his arrival home,
that of openly avowed membership with the Church of Christ. Nothing
during our cruise has imparted to me such unfeigned satisfaction: indeed
the result of our conversation on this subject, was a joy I cannot well
express.
The other incident was of a painfully different nature: one of those
outbreaks, which, so long as strong drink holds its sway over so many
seamen, no precaution or vigilance can, at all times, effectually guard
against on board a man-of-war. For a long time the Congress has been
under the most favorable auspices in regard to discipline and general
good conduct. Contentment, cheerfulness, and ready obedience, seemed to
be the prevailing feelings of the crew. But, on the evening of the 18th
inst., just as the last guests of a party—similar to that of which I
gave an account in October, had left the ship, it became known that
liquor in large quantities had been smuggled on board, and that many of
the men were intoxicated. Sixty or seventy were soon beyond all
self-control, and, maddened by rum, were most insolent and insubordinate
to the officers who attempted to restrain them. In the darkness of the
deck, it was difficult to distinguish the ringleaders; and after these
were secured in double irons, they made the rest of the night hideous,
by their boisterous profanity and drunken ribaldry.
The investigation of the matter showed that the ‘dinkey,’ a small boat
used as a tender by the messenger-boys and servants in communicating
with the shore, had inadvertently been left afloat astern, in place of
being hoisted from the water as usual, before dark. One or two of the
crew made their way to this, and succeeded in bringing off from the
shore, liquor sufficient to have intoxicated the whole ship’s company.
It was freely offered to all, but sixty or seventy only would partake of
it; a fact speaking well for the mass in contradistinction to the few.
Still, such an outbreak, though limited to a small number, and those the
veriest vagabonds on board, is disheartening to those who believe in the
practicability of maintaining the discipline and good order of a ship,
by a rule of kindness.
The consequence of this conduct was a kind of quarantine of the ship the
next day; no boats were allowed to leave for the shore, and both
officers and men remained on board. It was Saturday, and I had not
sufficiently recovered from the shock before the Sabbath, to throw off a
despondency in regard to any high results from the preaching of the
Gospel to such hearers, or to overcome a feeling that I was speaking but
to the wind. There is never a want, however, of the listening ear; and I
felt reproved for my unbelief by the first chapter of the Bible read at
the service, in which occurs the declaration:
“As the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven,
And returneth not thither,
But watereth the earth,
And maketh it bring forth and bud,
That it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater;
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth:
It shall not return unto me void,
But it shall accomplish that which I please,
And it shall prosper in the thing whereunto I send it.
Instead of the thorn—shall come up the fir tree,
And instead of the brier—shall come up the myrtle tree.
And it shall be to the Lord for a name,
For an everlasting sign, that shall not be cut off.”
I was the more impressed with this reproof to my despondency, on
returning to my room, by accidentally falling upon a paraphrase of the
same truth, in the following verses:
“Ye who think the Truth ye sow
Lost beneath the winter’s snow,
Doubt not Time’s unerring law
Yet shall bring the genial thaw.
God in nature ye can trust:
Is the God of grace less just?
Workers on the barren soil,
Yours may seem a thankless toil;
Sick at heart with hope deferred,
Listen to the cheering word:
“Now the faithful sower grieves—
Soon he’ll bind his golden sheaves.”
If the Almighty have decreed—
Man may labor, yet the seed
Never in his life shall grow,
Shall the sower cease to sow?
The fairest fruit may yet be borne
On the resurrection morn!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------