Our three crews, were, one from New York to San Francisco, the second, from San Francisco to the Sandwich Islands and Hong Kong, the third, from Hong Kong to Manila and thence to New York.

It would be more than could be expected of human nature subjected to the trials of nautical life, to behave with perfect propriety under all the various conditions to which men must be subjected in a long voyage. From New York to San Francisco we were favored with a set of men who could not be excelled in their dispositions and behavior. I have already quoted the complimentary remarks of the captain in his last address to them. In San Francisco, although there is not the opportunity to make a good selection which there is in the port of New York, we were also highly favored in our men.

OLD PORTRAIT OF THE SAILOR.

We had three libraries sent on board before we left New York, which did excellent service. It was interesting to see the men after religious services on the Sabbath morning, finding shady places about the ship with their books and tracts from these libraries. This is in contrast to the old system of things among sailors. A familiar picture of a sailor used to be a man with a monkey led by a string in one hand, a parrot cage in the other, a tarpaulin with a quarter of a yard of black ribbon flying, no suspenders, his trowsers revealing a zone of blue shirt above his waistbands. The appearance of our crew from New York was far in advance of such a portraiture. It is still seen, though the contrast is very frequent.

THE KNIGHT HEAD.

On our way from Manila the Captain invited me to go down with him to the knight head, at the foot of the bowsprit, where you may extemporize a good seat protected with ropes. There you have a good view of the ship, and, taking the foremast for a guide, can learn the names of the different sails, see the arrangement of the jibs, and, leaning over, watch the cutwater dividing the billows, throwing up sheets of foam, the spray saluting you as often as the ship buries herself in a huge wave. We indulged ourselves in some mathematical calculations as to the bulk of water displaced by the ship as she floated, with several problems adjacent. This ship is two hundred and ten feet long. Malone Block, in Boston, where we formerly lived, has six dwellings, each twenty-three feet long, making the block a hundred and thirty-eight feet, so that the ship is once and a half the length of that block! We did much ciphering on the wood work, which may not have escaped the paint brush, or the constant wear from the weather. If it survives, a reader may find there some curious calculations in the mensuration of solids.

A SAILOR PUT IN IRONS.

The crew which we shipped in Hong Kong were several of them, as it proved, released from jail to ship; they were, in part, the off-couring of English vessels. They were disposed to take advantage of the officers when possible, doing as little work as would serve to make them appear busy. One of them was sent aloft to slush down the mast, and the second mate observed that he was loitering about in the rigging, to kill time. At eight bells he came down on deck, intending to go to breakfast with his watch and let somebody else finish his work; but the mate ordered him aloft to complete his job. This he refused to do, saying he would not work when it was his watch below. The captain heard the dispute and told the man that if he did not obey the orders he would put him in irons. He continuing obstinate, they put irons on his hands and placed him in the poop deck hatch, and gave him hard bread and water for food. He held out forty-eight hours in spite of the captain’s continual conversation with him; when leg irons were brought and were going on; then he humbly consented to obey the order and to behave well. The captain has since told me it was the only time that he ever confined a sailor, and he was inclined afterward to wish that he had been still more patient, trying to conquer the man by his usual method of moral suasion. “But,” said he, “it was the only direct refusal of duty which I ever had, and with such a dangerous crew I felt the necessity of showing decision.” I record it with my grateful acknowledgment that though this man was kept manacled in the lazareet, under my stateroom, I did not know when he was put there, nor was I aware of his crime and his punishment till several months after our arrival.—One other incident will complete the criminal record of the ship.

SOME APPEARANCE OF MUTINY QUELLED.

On the voyage from Manila to New York we had the only interruption to our peace. One day we were informed by the steward that some of the men had thrown their beef overboard; that they were excited; and he feared trouble. The captain made inquiry into the cause of disaffection, the ringleaders in it, the nature of their threats.