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lished, the other seven are in the hands of the engraver.

I send, herewith, a copy of sheet 1, and ask the favor of you to accept it. It relates to the Gulf of Mexico, and you will observe that it exhibits the prevailing currents and winds of that region at a glance, and with a perspicuity, certainty and generalization that written accounts cannot give.

Books, if I may so say, impart information through the ear-these charts through the eye, and, therefore, in a manner and form much more condensed and available.

You will observe, by this chart, that the general currents in the Gulf of Mexico are almost as regular in their courses and as sharp in their outlines as is the Mississippi river itself. So that, with this sheet as a guide, a vessel, by turning a little to the right, or a little to the left, according to its indications, may convert an unfavorable into a favorable current, and the reverse.

Another important result to flow from these charts is the removing of all doubt as to those "Vigias," including rocks, reefs and shoals, which, by reason of the uncertainty as to their existence and position, disfigure the best general charts, harass navigators, and stand in the way of commerce.

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The ship was pitching madly, and the waves were toppling up sometimes as high as the yardarm, and then dipping away with a whirl, under our keel, that made every timber in the vessel quiver. The thunder was roaring like ten thousand cannons, and every now and then, as I said, half the sky There is, also, a regular series of Meteological would split up in a stream of fire, that glared over Observations kept here. For this purpose there is the tops of the waves, and glistened on the wet always an officer on duty night and day who is, also, deck, and the spars-lighting up everything so charged with subsidiary computations in connection plain, that I could see the men's faces at the mainwith Astronomical results. Besides these duties top, and catch glimpses of the reefers on the yardthere are various others which, taken in the aggre-arm-clinging like death-then all would be horgate, give, with the above mentioned, constant em-rible darkness.

ployment to the three Lieutenants and seven Passed You could hear the spray spitting against the Midshipmen, who have not been named. canvass, and the great waves breaking on the weath

These officers are Lieut. Joseph C. Walsh, in er bow, and the howl of the wind through the rigcharge of nautical books, maps, charts, and instru-ging, and now and then, when a gasket gave way, ments. It is his duty also to keep and prepare, for and the sail bellied out to leeward, you could hear examination, records showing the performance of the canvass splitting like the crack of a musket. each chronometer, and the condition of every other You could hear too the Captain forʼard, screaming nautical instrument, book and chart, with reference out orders, and the mate in the cross-trees screamto its fitness for service.

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ing 'em over, 'till the lightning came, and the thunder-both together--and deadened their voices, as if they'd been a pair of little chirping sparrows.

It was in one of the flashes, that I saw a hand on the yard-arm, lose his foot-hold, as the ship gave a plunge, but his arms were clenched round the spar. Before I could see any more, the blackness came over, and the thunder broke with a crash that half-deafened me. I thought I heard something like a tiny howl, as it died off; and sure enough, at the next flash of lightning which came in a moment, what should I see on the top of one of the waves along side,but Tom Meeks; the lightning glared on his face, so that I could see the look in the poor fellow's eye.

As good luck would have it, he had caught hold of one of the studding-sail sheets, as he fell, and as we pitched, I could see it slipping off the coil upon the deck.

I shouted like mad-'man overboard!' and just had time to catch the rope, when we could see nothing again. I was a boy then and could'nt hold by the rope; the sea was too high and the man too heavy for me.

I shouted, and shouted, and shouted, and felt the sweat starting all over my forehead, as the rope slipped out through my hands. Poor Tom had been our messmate for a year, and we all loved him. Presently the Captain felt his way aft, and took hold with me, just as the coil was nearly spent. and we pulled upon him; and the cook came, and we three hauled together upon him.

Poor fellow! it must have been desperate work for him; for the ship was drifting at a prodigious rate, and we pulling up at the same time; but he elung like a man.

By-and-by at a flash, we saw him on a crest three oars lengths away from the vessel.

"Hold on, my man," shouted the Captain. "For God's sake, be quick," said the man, and he went down in a trough of the sea. And we pulled the harder; and the Captain kept all the while calling to him to keep up courage, and hold strong. But in the hush, we could hear Tom say, "I can't hold out much longer; I'm most gone."

We called out the more to him to hold on; and presently got him, where we could most lay hold of him, and were only waiting for a good lift of the sea, to bring him up, when the poor fellow groaned out, "It's no use-I can't-good-bye," and a wave tossed the end of the rope clean up upon the bulwarks.

At the next flash we saw him going down under the water.

I never shall forget how he looked-for we saw him plain-when he said "Good bye" and let go his hold.

THE MUSINGS OF AN OCTOGENARIAN

Over the Memory of his First Child lost in Infancy.

My little child! My daughter! Three score years
Have passed, since, sitting on your father's knee,
Your childish prattle, and your playful pranks,
Your little fingers tugging at my hair,
Pinching my cheek, and then the rosy lip,
Kissing away the smart, made life so sweet,

I asked no other Heaven. Even now

It seems but yesterday. That gleeful voice,
In inarticulate, yet dulcet tones,

Is present to my ear; and still my eye
Recalls the playful features, beautiful
With life and promise.

Then came Death and lo!
The beauteous rose-bud withered at his touch,
And drooped, and perished, soon to be replaced
By others no less dear. These grew and flourished;

And if you were remembered then, my babe,
'Twas but as when, beside the cheerful hearth,
Surrounded by the dear delights of home,
The Sailor tells of battle, storm and wreck.
And now, when Time has bent the stalwart form,
And thinned the flowing hair, and scattered frost
Upon the head, by which the Raven's wing
Had once seemed pale; now that the strength of youth
Is wasted, and the old man's tottering step
Demands support; behold me circled round
By manly forms that bow the reverent head,
While delicate hands anticipate my wishes.
The stately matron, and the blooming maid,
The bearded warrior, the statesman sage,
The upright magistrate-the beautiful,
The wise, the brave, the just, all call me "Father;"
And all men bless me as I
pass along,
The honored sire of an honored race.

If pride could satisfy the Heart of Man:
If pride could dwell with him, whose failing steps
Are tottering to the tomb, I might be proud
To see my life renewed and multiplied
In varied usefulness and various honors.
But what is there to fill the craving void,
Where Love was wont to dwell-when Love for Love-
The equal Love that binds the wedded heart,—
The fostering Love that folds the guileless infant-
The trusting Love with which that infant eye
Reads in the father's answering eloquent glance
What none but helpless childhood can awaken,
Return or understand, welled from my heart,
Or, in returning tide, brought back its treasures
From every heart and lip. All this past,
And now, in feeble age, 'tis mine to learn,
Child-like to bow before the common father,
In inarticulate or voiceless prayer

To him who whispers to the trembling heart;
"Like as a father pitieth his Children."
Sweet welcome words! How sweet, could I recall
Feelings which teach the heart to understand
Their gracious meaning. On my knee to hold
Once more the prattling urchin, and to think,
While the full heart in gushing tenderness
Pours itself forth, "Even thus my father loves
His helpless child of clay." Ah! never more;
Can that delight be mine. To memory now
Alone I turn, and often turn in vain :
For vain the effort, from the distant past
To summon back the image of the child

So long forgotten while the blooming boy
Engrossed the father's thoughts-and while the youth
Springing to manhood, filled with hopes and fears
His anxious mind; and when the man mature,
Complete in all his lineaments, commenced
The race of life, urging his strong career
Along the path of Honor. But you, my child,
Snatched from your father's arms, ere yet your lip
Had learned to syllable its notes of love;
Your image still is present, all distinct,
As when, with tottering step, you ran to court
The close embrace, and climb the knee, and nestle

In trusting fondness on the fostering bosom.

And when the eye of Faith would pierce the gloom That shrouds life's closing hour, beyond the grave Behold a group of friends-the early friends That struggled with me up the steep of fortune, That triumphed with me, when success had crowned Our earnest efforts, and who, sliding down The gentle slope, have gone before me. These, And, with them, she who shared my youthful joys, And soothed my carcs, and led the way to Heaven;

All these are there; and then, among them all,
I see one pair of little hands outstretched
To greet my coming-on the glittering verge
That bounds the realms of bliss, two little feet
Stand trembling, as of old, with eager love,
As when you ran to clasp your father's knees.
Oh! gracious death: Gracious and merciful!
'Tis to thy consecrating touch I owe
This priceless blessing. When in joyous youth
My cup of bliss o'erflowed, one little drop,
Exhaled by thee, is now at last shed back
Upon the parched and thirsting heart of age,
In dewy freshness. In thy hallowed casket
This cherished gem has still preserved its brightness,
When all beside is dim and lustreless.
And when, with prodigal and wasteful hand,
Life's store of bliss was spent, thy provident care
Has rescued from the wreck this little one,
My loved, my lost-my saved, my only CHILD.

TREES.

[JANUARY,

of decay, she sends us the assurance that like the flush on the cheek of the consumptive, she wears the tinge which is nearest death. The "Lady of the woods" now puts on her richest drapery and speaks with the deliberate wisdom of an oracle to the heart.

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The fine old regents of the forests, which have freighted the homeward wind with sighs" during the sultry days of summer, must now lay by their garments. The patriarch of the wood, where the wild bird made his home, coming at night with folding wing and drooping head to sleep in the great halls of silence, will soon be naked to the winds of heaven.

The deep, rich masses of refreshing beauty are passing away before the howling spirit of the autumn, bearing with them all those pure associations which cluster around our homes; in youth and age they stretch their fond arms over us, both in waking and sleeping, and patiently catch the falling dews at eve, to send a cooling fragrance to the languid senses. The Asia-born Horse-ChesCharles Lamb says, in one of his odd flings at those drooping limbs that swept the green sward nut, is hanging its golden banners in the sky, and the country, that " a garden was the primitive so gracefully, will shortly be verdureless, leaving prison till man sinned himself out of it." This nothing between us and the naked heavens, but the declaration makes Lamb look rather "sheepish" hurrying clouds. in the eyes of a poet, the better part of whose "flesh" ought to be " grass," or something else that is clothed in rural livery. "Lamb" in London was a standing dish before Charles became a notable, and this serving so long an apprenticeship in eating his relatives, may have inflamed his zeal against the agricultural districts. Diocletian, in his garden found more repose than on the imperial seat of Rome-with such "shadows of assimulation," do we rebut the testimony and confirm the degradation of the forlorn Elia.

"Ione's own tree

That crowns the wood with awful sovereignty,"

before another season brings out its tender framay be converted into the keel of some "whaler" grance, for the axe that the woodman spared the tree with, is not always stayed by "awful sovereignty."

"Seest thou the heavenward head,

Of yon magnolia with its ample boughs

And its pure blossoms? Say-dost thou inhale
Its breathing fragrance?"

A familiar spot in the country, is like Horace's idea of a man's mind, it does not change with the change of climate. We may leave it for years, It is a child of the sunny South and grows in great and when we return there stand the same old trees, luxuriance in Mississippi as far up as Natchez. there we see the purple outline of the distant hills, Its introduction into France was as far back as and above us the same boundless wilderness of 1732; taken by an officer from its home on the sky. God's most hallowed prophecies are spoken banks of the "father of waters." in these sweet places, that rest in the very bosom the tawny son of the wilderness used to repair, and To its shade of nature, as "plain as whisper in the ear." idealize nature is the highest perfection of the he pointed it out as the cynosure of the forest in To gather from its roots relief for fevers; and while imaginative faculty; for nothing but true inspira- point of perfection of form and beauty, he extracttion can give expression to her revelations. to his frame. ed from it a medicine that gave health and vigor

A bright September day pours its rich flood of tender light over the wide landscape, and the living witnesses of decay are standing solemnly weeping

their leaves

"On the sad face of the mere."

the large flowered Magnolia is the most remarkaOf all the trees east of the Rocky Mountains, ble for the majesty of its appearance; it is the glory of the forest and has a place among the largest of the trees, varying from sixty to one hundred Through the long aisles of the forest the winds feet in height. The head often forms a perfect come trooping with a premonition of winter, and cone, placed on a clear, straight trunk resembling the gleaming hues of nature in her autumnal garb a beautiful column, and from its dark green foliage, will soon pass away. In the many visible signs silvered over with milk white flowers, is seen at a

There stands the majestic oak, which the Arcadians believed to be the first created of trees, with as many traditions and histories as leaves it bears.

up her first oracle in a grove of oaks-all the most durable edifices of the middle ages were constructed of oak. The favorite oak of William the Conqueror, in Windsor forest, is now more than one thousand years old. Its stately form was an

great distance. England has many trees which | Persia and India, are said to throw water impregare land marks in her history: those of Sherwood nated with the bark of this tree in the face of a Forest and the wooded demesne of Blenheim and new-born child. Woburn Abbey are lordly samples of her "greenrobed Senators." The Aboretum Britannicum finely illustrates the magnificent single trees, groups and rolling woods of the " English Landscape." It was an oak which hung Absalom; Dodona set It is a very common foible with us to cut down every tree which adds beauty to the scene: our people appear to have been born with axes in their hands, and have retained them ever since. We cut a forest-born with as little compunction as we "cut" a friend; indeed the propensity to the lat-idol, before which the Druids bowed, and its fruit ter must have originated in the example of the was held in great esteem by them as an article of former. Wood in different shapes is the chief ob- food. ject of interest in a landscape. Variety as the highest kind of beauty is created in a great degree by a natural arrangement of trees-they communicate new expression to the scenery-but nothing is equal to the arrangement of nature; the revelations of beauty, which she unfolds in the heart of the great wilderness, transfigures, as it were, her wild and wonderful perfection in the memory. What primeval sanctuaries rise in the dim depths of her enchanted world! pictures of age, they are dumb and desolate, and look like the mighty relics of an extinct creation.

There is no more beautiful object in the vegetable world than the mahogany tree; it throws the shade of its dense foliage over a wide extent of surface and as it rustles its heavy plumes in the midnight sky, presents a solemn and mysterious appearance. There are several varieties of the mahogany tree much admired and sought after for the beauty of their colors and the gradations of their figures.

Without any aspirations towards such excellence, each tree has a spirit destined to live beyond it, in the form of sundry sideboards, bureaus, etc.; in fact, scarcely one of them, with the most moderate pretensions, is exempt from the charge of growing the leaves of a table. The "base use" of not being used at all, is an indignity to which it is no part of its philosophy to submit, and as it stands in its native island, wreathing its old arms high in air, its leaves palpitating like a myriad of pulses in the golden sunshine, we can almost trace numberless fancy-streaked cupboards and stoutlimbed tables taking up their line of march for "my Lady's chamber."

Quaint old Evelyn, in his Sylva, says, that so great was the esteem in which the Oak was held, there was an express law among the twelve tables, concerning the very gathering of the acorns, though they should be found on another man's ground.

The rapid growth of the Maple, renders it a favorite for transplanting; the Scarlet Maple in the Spring, is the gem of the wilderness:--others of the different species assume the same beautiful appearance in Autumn, and as they fade and die off in beauty, keep changing while there is a semblance of life yet remaining

"Tints that the Maple woods disclose
Like opening buds, or folding rose,
Or various as those hues that dye

The clouds that deck a sun-set sky."

Mr. Downing, in his fine work on Landscape Gardening, says that the "Plane tree, or common Button-Wood, formed the Academic groves of the ancients. Beneath their shade Aristotle, Plato and Socrates delivered the choicest wisdom and eloquence of those classic days:" they grew to an immense size then, and have lost none of their vigor now, if the specimens in various parts of the States are a criterion--one near the town of Gennessee, in New York, grew to an immense circumferance :--so large, indeed, that a room ample enough to contain 14 persons was hollowed out of its trunk. Of late this tree seems on the decline in this country; many of its finest specimens now wear the semblance of decay. In our primeval forests it often expands into a grand and beautiful creation, lifting its head far above its peers into the bright and breathless heavens. Distinct and The European Holly is a very ancient tree, and rugged, yet delicate and airy in its wreathed trasurrounded with more emblems and historical as-ceries of foliage, it affords a picturesque subject on sociations, than any other in England's rural history. The early Christians at Rome decorated their churches with its branches and from that epoch to the present time, poetry, legend and tra- Longfellow, in his Hyperion, in speaking of a dition have poured around it a maze of suggestive tree," brought more than two centuries ago from illustration. The disciples of Zoroaster believed its primeval paradise in America, to beautify the that the sun never shadows the Holly; and the gardens of the Palatine," says, "I take a mournfollowers of that philosopher, who still remain in ful pleasure in gazing upon that tree. It stands

which to pour out our enthusiasm, for if one has enthusiasm, it may well be expended before such a shrine.

there so straight and tall, with iron bands around same writer, in describing an Elm in Pittsfield, its trunk and limbs, in silent majesty, or whisper- Massachusetts, gives us this fine portrait :

ing only in its native tongue and freighting the homeward wind with sighs! It reminds me of some captive monarch of a savage tribe, brought over the ocean for a show, and chained in the public market-place of the city, disdainfully silent, or only breathing in melancholy accents a prayer for its native forest, a longing to be free." The beautiful in association and suggestion can scarcely exceed this. It is a proper tribute to a green world, whose hallowed light and beauty lie at the foundation of a poet's life.

"Nature with folded hands stands there,"

"Wise with the lore of centuries,

What tales, if there were tongues in trees,
That giant Elm could tell."

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"In the centre of the public square, in the beautiful town of Pittsfield, there stands alone in all its majesty, encircled by a new generation of lesser trees, a venerable old Elm, which measures one hundred and twenty-eight feet in height, with a trunk thirteen feet and nine inches in circumference, and ninety feet to the lowermost limbs. At the time the town was first settled, nearly one hundred years ago, it was a beautiful tall tree, at least and on the poet is conferred the power to color, a century and a half old, which, from the symmeembellish and amplify the visible signs of beauty try of its trunk, and its palm-like summit, was clustering around him. There stands the beauti- spared by the woodman's axe, while the rest of its ful and ever-green Myrtle, which Milton places in forest brethren were felled to the ground. With the Garden of Eden. This tree, according to this much revered and ancient tenant of the soil, Pliny, the Sabines and Romans, when they were there are associated numerous incidents which, in reconciled, laid down their arms under, and puri- themselves, would fill a volume, and it is to be refied themselves with its boughs. Wreaths of its gretted that the immediate object and limited length foliage were the symbols of authority worn by the of this treatise prevents us from entering into them Athenians. The Roman ladies, says tradition, put in detail. It was under this tree that the American the leaves into their baths, persuaded that the plant troops, of that part of Massachusetts at present must be favorable to beauty. Here, too, stands known as the county of Berkshire, were marshalthe Dogwood, or Cornus Florida, the most beauti-led, previous to their march to Bunker Hill. And ful of all the forest tribe. It robes itself in pure the first agricultural fair in America was held unwhite flowers, while the fruit, which is of a glossy der its shade." Truly we have no Academic red, mingles in the rich mazes of its foliage, pre-groves," but such associations are dearer to an senting a well-contrasted picture of floral beauty. American than all the speculations of Aristotle, There is the Elm, a noble tree, one of the proud- Plato or Socrates. Beneath the branches of these est of the race of monarchs. A group of these trees, he erects "Love's own altar," and in after trees, make up a most majestic picture; the foli-years comes back a “ grave stranger," to look upon age is dense and heavy, and the limbs pendant and these dumb objects with a sort of reverence. Like graceful, and while waving themselves in the cool- one's first idea of creation, they rise, and their rich ing breeze, seem to invite one to their grateful luxuriance realizes the paternity and bounty of our shade. Our white American Elm, is considered Creator. the most beautiful of the species. Mr. Brown, Under" William Penn's Elm," his famous treaty in his elaborate work, says, “In America, the fa- with the Indians was made; a treaty which Volvorite Elm is inseparably connected with the his-taire pronounced, "The only treaty which was ratory of the country. This and several other trees tified without an oath, and the only one which was forcibly appeal to the imagination of the people; never broken." "Liberty Trees" were, almost innot only are they associated with the sports of variably, Elms, and situated in Boston, Providence, childhood, the coming and singing of birds, and Newport and New York. They are remembered, with the haunts of young men and maidens fondly together with the exercises of the occasion, by the and joyously traced in by-gone years, but they teach inhabitants, who still survive those memorable days. lessons of wisdom to aged and hoary-headed men- The origin of Liberty Trees grew out of the folbespeak their country's wrongs-their country's lowing circumstance: In the Revolutionary strugglory, and tell them much concerning the mutabil-gles with the mother country, an unpopular excise ity of things below. Had these trees the gift of was laid upon cider, and the sufferers assembled reason and speech, or could their leaves form words, and appropriated an Apple-tree as an altar at which when shaken by the wind, how many tales of love and woes, of human suffering, could they unfold. But as these ancient tenants of the soil are not endowed with voice and memory, let us, ourselves, The venerable Yew-tree deserves notice in this be their oracles, and discourse to our own ears brief and insufficient sketch: Its bare growth is of upon some of the events which have transpired a century's duration, and it will live a number. In within the dim vista of two hundred years." The' England it is the customary ornament of the place

they might sacrifice the image of the minister, with whom the act originated. In imitation of these exhibitions, our Liberty Trees took their rise.

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