Hyannis was then quite a humble village with a profusion of salt works. Farm houses were thinly scattered around, and comfort seemed inscribed on every dwelling. There seemed to be an abundance of people moving about on that day; where they came from was a problem I could not solve. Every one seemed pleased and happy, and, with commendable patriotism, resolved to enjoy Independence Day. The young men were neatly apparelled, and bent on having a joyous time; and the girls- Cape Cod girls, ever renowned for beauty and worth-gayly decked out with smiles, and dimples, and ribbons, ready for a Fourth of July frolic, dazzled the eyes of the beholders, and threw a magic charm over the scene.

And a frolic they had; fiddling, dancing, fun, and patriotism was the order of the day. In the evening, however, the entertainments were varied by the delivery of a sermon and other religious exercises in the school-house by a young Baptist clergyman, who subsequently became well known for his praiseworthy and successful efforts to reduce the rates on postage in the United States. This good man accomplished the great work of his life-and died. A simple monument is erected to his memory at Mount Auburn, with no more than these words of inscription:

"BARNABAS BATES,

FATHER OF CHEAP POSTAGE."

Hardly a person visits that consecrated ground who has not reaped enjoyment from the labors of that man's life. And as the simple epitaph meets the eye, and is read in an audible tone, the heart-felt invocation, "Blessings on his memory!" is his oft-repeated elegy.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when the crew returned to the schooner. After we gained the deck I was seized with an unpleasant sensation. A sudden chill seemed to congeal the blood in my veins; my teeth chat

tered, and my frame shook with alarming violence. After the lapse of about thirty minutes the chills gave place to an attack of fever, which, in an hour or two, also disappeared, leaving me in a weak and wretched condition. This proved to be a case of intermittent fever, or fever and ague, a distressing malady, but little known in New England in modern times, although by no means a stranger to the early settlers. It was fastened upon me with a rough and tenacious grasp, by the damp, foggy, chilly atmosphere in which I had constantly lived for the last fortnight.

Next morning, in good season, the captain and mate were on board. The wind was fair, and we got under weigh doubled Cape Cod, and arrived alongside the T Wharf in Boston, after a tedious and uncomfortable passage of twenty-two days from Savannah.

I left my home a healthy-looking boy, with buoyant spirits, a bright eye, and features beaming with hope. A year had passed, and I stood on the wharf in Boston, a slender stripling, with a pale and sallow complexion, a frame attenuated by disease, and a spirit oppressed by disappointment. The same day I deposited my chest in a packet bound to Portsmouth, tied up a few trifling articles in a handkerchief, shook hands with the worthy Captain Burgess, his mate and kind-hearted crew, and with fifteen silver dollars in my pocket, wended my way to the stage tavern in Ann Street, and made arrangements for a speedy journey to my home in Rockingham County, New Hampshire.

CHAPTER XI.

EMBARKING FOR BRAZIL.

IT seemed to be generally conceded that I had got enough of the sea; that after the discomforts I had experienced, and the unpleasant and revolting scenes I had witnessed, I should manifest folly in trying another voyage. My friends took it for granted that in my eyes a ship had lost all her attractions, and that I would henceforth eschew salt water as zealously and devoutly as a thrice-holy monk is wont to eschew the vanities of the world.

Indeed, for a time I reluctantly acknowledged that I had seen enough of a sailor's life; that on trial it did not realize my expectations; that if not a decided humbug, it was amazingly like one. With my health the buoyancy of my spirits departed. Hope and ambition no longer urged me with irresistible power to go forth and visit foreign lands, and traverse unknown seas like a knight errant of old in quest of adventures. While shivering with ague, and thinking of my wretched fare on board the schooner John, and my uncomfortable lodgings during the passage from Savannah, I listened, with patience at least, to the suggestions of my friends about a change of occupation. Arrangements were accordingly made by which I was to bid adieu to the seas forever.

It cost me something to abandon a vocation to which I had looked for years as the stepping-stone to success in life; and as my health and spirits returned, I began to doubt whether I was acting wisely; but having embarked in a new pursuit, I determined to go ahead, and to this determination I unflinchingly adhered, for at least three months, when I fell in with a distant relation, Captain

Nathaniel Page, of Salem, who was about proceeding on a voyage to the Brazils. After expressing surprise at my course in abandoning the sea, he more than hinted that if I wished a situation before the mast with him, it was at my service.

This was applying the linstock to the priming with a vengeance. My good resolutions vanished like a wreath of vapor before a westerly gale. Those longings which I had endeavored to stifle, returned with more than their original force. In fancy's eye, I saw a marlinspike where Macbeth saw the dagger, and snuffed the fragrance of a tar-bucket in every breeze.

At the expiration of three days after my interview with Captain Page, I took the stage coach and proceeded to Salem. The brig Clarissa was then preparing to take in cargo for Maranham and Para,—ports on the north coast of Brazil,- which had just been thrown open to American commerce. The Clarissa was a good-looking, substantial vessel, of about two hundred tons burden, belonging to Jere. L. Page, Abel Peirson, and others, and had recently returned from a successful voyage to Calcutta.

The sight of the brig, and the flurry about the wharves, where several Indiamen were discharging cargoes or making ready for sea, confirmed me in my resolution to try the ocean once more. Indeed I began to be heartily ashamed of having seriously entertained the idea of quietly settling down among "the land-lubbers on shore," and felt that the sooner I retrieved my error the better.

Filled with this idea, I sought Captain Page, and without further consideration, and without daring to consult my friends in New Hampshire, lest they should overwhelm me with remonstrances, I engaged to go in the Clarissa as one of the crew before the mast.

I returned home with all speed, gathered together my few sea-going garments and nautical instruments, again bade adieu to my relations, who gravely shook their heads

in doubt of the wisdom of my conduct, and elated by visions of fairy castles in the distance, hastened to join the brig, which was destined to bear Cæsar and his fortunes.

This may have been the wisest step I could have taken. It is not likely I should have been long reconciled to any other occupation than that of a mariner. When a boy's fixed inclinations in the choice of an occupation are thwarted, he is seldom successful in life. His genius, if he has any, will be cramped, stunted, by an attempt to bend it in the wrong direction, and will seldom afterwards expand. But when a person, while attending to the duties. of his profession or occupation, whether literary, scientific, or manual, can gratify his inclinations, and thus find pleasure in his business, he will be certain of success.

It was at the close of January, 1811, that the brig Clarissa was cast loose from Derby's Wharf in Salem, and with a gentle south-west breeze, sailed down the harbor, passed Baker's Island, and entered on the broad Atlantic. Our cargo was of a miscellaneous description, consisting of flour and salt provisions, furniture, articles of American manufacture, and a large assortment of India cottons, which were at that time in general use throughout the habitable parts of the globe.

The Clarissa was a good vessel, and well found in almost every respect; but like most of the vessels in those days, had wretched accommodations for the crew. The forecastle was small, with no means of ventilation or admission of the light of day, excepting by the fore-scuttle. In this contracted space-an equilateral triangle, with sides of some twelve or fifteen feet, which was expected to furnish comfortable accommodations for six individuals, including a very dark-complexioned African, who filled the respectable and responsible office of cook were stowed six large chests and other baggage belonging to the sailors; also two water-hogsheads, and several coils of rigging. The deck leaked badly, in heavy weather, around the