THE SIX FOLDING SCREENS OF LIFE. AN ORIGINAL JAPANESE NOVEL. PREFACE OF THE JAPANESE AUTHOR. I WILL tell you what you will not find in this book. You will not find anything in it about the worship of devils, the miracles of wonder-workers, the thoughts and sayings of fairies, or the doings of jackalls, wolves, or toads. You will find nothing in it about family trees, heir-looms, or any such trifling objects. Nor will you find anything in it about the heroic deeds of father and son, about the union of the two parts into which either of the four elements of nature is divided, about sealed caskets and things of the toilet, about the ora cles of the gods and of Buddha communicated in dreams, about the death-dealing sword drawn against our fellow-creatures, nor about anything that will make the blood run cold and the hair stand on end. None of these things will you find in it. But this you will find in it. You will find that the saying is not true, that "neither man nor the folding-screen can stand upright"-that man is not like the folding-screen in this particular. Convinced of the error of this saying, we have brought upon the scene several human beings, who may be aptly called the folding-screens of life, and illustrated the parts they play in this drama, by drawings upon this perishable plant-paper. It will be seen that they refuse, every one of them, to bend the knee to do wrong; that they scorn to stand bent like a folding-screen; that they stand upright. We have vindicated man from the calumny of this proverb, by hastily gathering together such good thoughts as suggested themselves, and writing them down in the margin around the illustrations we have given, for the instruction and amusement of the reader. This work was completed in the autumn or the seventh month of the seventh year of the reign of Monsei (1820), and published and placed in the hands of the booksellers in the spring or the first month of the eighth year of the reign of Monsei (1821). RIUTEI TANEFIKO. A novel from Japan, whatever its intrinsic merit, must of a certainty be classed among the most curious of the curiosities of literature. The present work, as far as can be learned from other sources, is a correct picture of the peculiarities, manners, and mode of thinking of the people of Japan: and it will be seen that in the development of the feelings of the personages en scène, their appreciation of right and hatred of wrong, human nature in Japan is the same as human nature among people who claim a higher state of civilisation. The "Six Folding Screens of Life" is the first voice from the inner life of that but little known country that has found a European echo: it has been translated from the original into German by the distinguished philologist Prizmaier; and from the language of the fatherland it has been adapted into English by Mr. W. G. Snethen. Criticism of the work itself we leave to the reader, merely premising, that should he stumble over an obscure passage occasionally, he must remember he is reading a Japanese book, and not a volume bearing the imprimatur of any of the three-volume-novel publishers of the metropo.is of England. The language and character in which this novel is written, are those used by the people of Japan at large. The character is beautiful and flowing, and is written in perpendicular lines, beginning at the top and on the right-hand edge of the sheet. Where, in this edition, they are not interrrupted by woodcuts --which illustrate the different scenes in the story, and which are executed in a style that proves the Japanese to be little inferior to Europeans in the art of wood-engraving-they descend the page about half-way, and after going across it to the left in this manner, they recommence on the right-hand edge of the page, just below where the first line terminated, and descending to the bottom of it pursue the same course across it. The space between the upper and lower half of the page, which, in this edition, is entirely cccupied by the written characters, is about the tenth part of an inch, and lics across the page in a slightly curved form. There are marks at the head and end of each beginning and closing line to direct the reader in his progress-a species of catch-words or signs. The words are separated from each other in writing them down the line by short spaces, as in our own language. -ED. PART I. There once lived in a family allied to the house of Famana, that gave to Kuanto its governors, a man by the name of Abosi Tamontara Kadzujəsi. He was in the habit of ranging through the half of the kingdom of Kadzusat on hunting expeditions; and so widely known and extensive was his family, which belonged to the army, that he was almost equal in power and authority to the governors. He dwelt in a magnificently furnished palace upon the slope of the hill of Kobukuro at Kamakura, in Sessiu, owned hunting castles upon the great beach of Kanazawa and in various other places, and lived in extraordinary luxury and splendour. One day towards the close of autumn, as he was admiring the magnificent Momidzi§ tree, with its huge crimson leaves, he felt a sudden desire to make war upon the birds that flocked among its branches. To prepare himself for this sport he set out for his hunting castle upon the great beach; and after rambling about the whole day, he came just as the dusk of evening was setting in, upon the moor commonly known as Woodcock Moor. This was an unexpected occurrence. was, however, an obstacle quite sufficient, at so late an hour, to interrupt his progress, for it was a desolate spot, far distant from the haunts of men. An old, deserted inn alone stood on one side of it. It "Se yonder woodcock!" exclaimed one of Tamontara's trusty conpanions, who observed a woodcock in the distance, in quest of food. "It is plain this is called Woodcock Moor, because it abounds in this bird. Should you pass this inn in the first half of the tenth hour of an autumn evening, you will be sure to see the woodcock flying, as the poet Saigio says: Tamontara siniled. "The woods," said he, "that you construe to mean 'Woodcock Moor,' have no reference whatever to the flying or abodes of birds The Japanese, like the Chinese hour, is double that of Europe, so that the time here indicated is between the hours of five and six o'clock in the evening. ¶ Saigio was a Bonze or priest, distinguished as a poet. It appears that he wrote a poem on this moor, and perhaps it was composed at this inn. The legend here spoken of was probably written in the Chinese similarly sounding characters, and hence the ambiguity of the expression in the original, which, by the insertion or omission of two points, may be either Sigo tatsu sawa, "the moor where woodcocks lift themselves up," or Siki tatsä sawa, "the moor where the trees of Death lift themselves up." According to sicgen-si-ko, there was a graveyard in this moor in ancient times. 1 sembling a partridge. It is a scarce and shy bird-so scarce that twenty of them could hardly be found in this whole moor." The attendant who first spoke shook his head. You ought to remember," said he, "that woodcocks frequent out-of-the-way places, and are never shy at the approach of man.' "Not so, not so," said the second attendant; and here, doubling up his hand, he looked intently through it, as though he saw something in the distance. The two attendants continued their dispute, and neither seemed disposed to give up to the other. Midzuma Ugenda, Kadzujosi's trusty companion, had a son just fourteen years old, by the name of Simano Suke, who discharged the duty of a constant and He walked confidential attendant upon his master. up to the disputants, who on that day were in attendance. 46 Stop this quarrelling," said he, "and I will decide the question in dispute between you by this little arrow." Here he trussed up the corner of his overcoat, laid the little arrow upon his bow, and drawing back the string with all his might, let it go. Away went the missile, and striking a straggling bird, glanced The terrified bird off and fell amongst the cane. escaped. Tamontara, on seeing this, flew into a violent pas sion. “How dare you, a mere boy," said he, "thus forget your duty to an illustrious soldier like me, and do a thing you had no right to do? You have wounded yon bird, sir: do you imagine that you will escape from the consequences of such an act?" When Simano Suke saw his master's angry face, he instantly threw down his bow. "Go," said he to his servant, "fetch me yonder arrow." The servant went, without a murmur, into the moor, got the arrow with much difficulty, and handed it to his master. Simano Suke took it, and walked towards Tamontara with fearless step. "These two attendants, sir," said Simano Suke, "were disputing for a long time whether the woodcock frequented this moor or not; and their dispute promising to be endless, I remarked to them that I could decide the question, being convinced that I could discover the truth of the matter, and thus put an end to this unpleasant discussion. I did not tell them that I would hit the bird, sir. But see! with the point of my sleepless arrow have I pierced the feather of a woodcock, and there is no doubt the arrow touched the bird. I had not the least idea of desiring to kill one of these birds, sir; for however ignorant of the part they play in the ballads of our own and of other nations, one thing is certain-they inhabit this moor and other similar places. Oh, sir! though but a mere boy, yet I bear the surname of the Little Arm, and my arrow has It bears upon its point never yet failed of its mark. the feathers of one of these birds, and this is a proof that they frequent this spot." At so bold a speech from an attendant, Tamontara grew still more angry. 66 "Do you pre Even had Thoughtless boy, reflect!" said he. sume to oppose your master with words? you laid at my feet the bow which you have just thrown down, and trusted yourself entirely to my mercy, the world would have said of me, that I had exsended my kindness too far, and that I was in the habit of employing in my service persons of ill breeding --persons who have no correct notions of propriety, But though you are just entering manhood, and are beginning to dress your hair with the forelock of a man, yet your stay in my house will destroy its re Begone!" Such were the stern words of Tamontara. [The following events took place eight years after after those just described.] Among the rice merchants of Utsino Senia in Sessiu,* there was one by the name of Kadzijemon. He had no children in his old age, but was so much taken with a person named Sakisti, that he adopted him as his son. Soon afterwards he died, at the age of eighty. KadziJemon's widow became a nun, took the spiritual name of Miosan, and intrusted Sakitsi with the care of the house. She thenceforth devoted herself to the service of the temple, and never again mingled with the world. Sakitsi was of a conscientious turn of mind and a nervous temperament that were too much for his frail constitution. He honoured Miosan as though she had been his own mother; but during a season of unusual cares caused by the increased business of the house, he contracted an obstinate remittent fever of five days' duration. After passing the crisis of his disease, he recovered his health and colour so slowly that, by the advice of his mother's physician, a loquacious and witty old maid, who once enjoyed the honour of being a distinguished city belle, was introduced into his society, to entertain him with her wit and conversation. This treatment was highly successful, for it rallied his depressed spirits, and restored the tone About the middle of of both his mind and body. the second month, however, when the cypress-covered A lovely and beautiful maiden between seventeen and eighteen years of age, accompanied by a little girl four years old, visited every day the tea-house upon the public square of Sibawara, near the temple of Nangen, in Nara. This maiden played upon the cither,† while the little girl held out her fan to the visitors, and prayed for charity at their hands. So extraordinary was her skill that when the strings of her cither sent forth their round and full tones, accompanied by her rich and magnificent voice, she never failed to draw around her crowds of eager and admiring listeners, whose warm applause she invariably received. Love works wonders in this world, for Sakitsi, from Utsino Senio, having arrived in Nara at this juncture, was seen with his attendant inquiring after the maiden who played so exquisitely upon the cither, and who lived upon the street of Sibatsudzi. The maiden's name was Misawo; but she evidently did not belong to the tribe of ordinary street musicians. She was the daughter of a distinguished personage, but in order to relieve the distressing necessities of an elder sister who was reduced to The province in which O-osaka is situated. + The peculiar Chinese instrument called Kiu, resembling a herozontal harp. great poverty, she took with her Kojosi the daughter of that sister, and adopted this painful and humiliating pursuit. When he heard of this noble and generous sacrifice on her part, he became deeply enamoured of her. He cared no longer for the antiquities and noted places of which he had heard so much, but spent his days in the tea-house. Here he paid devoted attention to her, bestowed upon her many beautiful presents, and was absorbed in her agreeable conversation. Sakitsi was a handsome man, and Misawo, without perceiving it, permitted him to win her affections; and though her love for him did not blind her to the recollection of her lowly position in society, yet she found no opportunity to draw his attention to this circumstance; but day after day passed, and they had no other thought but their love for each other. At the close of a long day, when, at the tolling of the sunset bell, men had returned to their homes, and when all was still, a person was seen approaching the tea-house. "What!" said he, speaking to himself, "still here upon a bench in front of the tea-house! This must not be so any longer." He spoke of Misawo. It was Saizo, of the house of Tokuwaka, the well known host of the Arbor inn, at Utsino Senio in Nauiwa. Misawo approached him. "I pray you," said she, "come hither and tarry awhile." 66 66 They were alone beneath the leafy canopy. "Did you fully understand what I said to you yesterday ?" asked Saizo, in a loud tone. Will you enter into my service* for a hundred taels?" "I will," replied Misawo. With this money I may be able to be the means of re-establishing the health of my mother-in-law. I well know that I sell my liberty in doing this; but who has a right to say nay? Though my sister, whose consent is necessary to the accomplishment of this act, will not know what I have done until she hears of it, and until I shall have entered into your service, I have contrived through an artifice to obtain her signature to this bond, which you gave me in your handwriting; and see, I have affixed my seal to it." She handed him the bond, and Saizo was deeply affected. "I knew yesterday," said he, "that I had not mistaken your disposition; but it is my desire that you will keep the bond until the transaction is completed, when you will pass it over to me, and there will be an end of the matter. I feel assured that, loving your parents as you do, you will lay out the money you will get from me to the best advantage, and be faithful in my service. To-morrow morning, about the fourth hour, I will come with a sedan chair to carry you to my house, and I will then give you the money for your bond. Henceforth, all will go well." "This done," replied Misawo, "and I will owe you a debt that never can be repaid. To my dear mother, to whose eyes the light of heaven is a stranger, I will say that I go to be a maid-in-waiting in your palace." "Well said; and, if asked what I am here for, I can say that I have come to carry you to my palace as a maid-in-waiting." "That will satisfy her." Full of sad thoughts, the big tears coursed down her cheeks for a moment, but quickly repressing them, a sweet smile came across her face, and she made an effort amid her struggling feelings to express her thanks, but her voice failed her, and she was only heard to say, in a faltering voice + The service here meant i domnestic (tsutoine). There is another kind of service (foko), the opposite of the other. It consists of personal attendance upon distinguished personages only. "My master and my friend!" 66 May the morning sun bring joy to your sad heart!" and with these words Saizo hurried away. Upon the street of Fanija, in Nara, there stood a sedan chair-carrier, by the name of Tofei. In former years he had lived in Kuanto, and did duty as a foot soldier in the army of the general-in-chief, Kadzumura Teidaifu. He had clandestinely married Fanajo, the sister of Teidaifu's wife, Fatsuse, in whose house he lived shortly after this event; finding that his marriage could not be any longer concealed, he fled with her to Nara, his native place. Here she soon after gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Kojosi, and who was now four years old. Tofei's aged mother, Kutsiwa, was still alive, but she had lost her eye-sight from the effects of a severe malady, under which she had suffered for more than a year. But this was not the only misfortune of Tofei and his wife. No sooner had they abandoned their home than they received the afflicting intelligence that Kadzumura Teidaifu, Tofei's master in Kuanto, whence they came, had been deposed from his command in the army, and been deprived of all the emoluments of his office. Finding it utterly impossible for him to maintain, in a manner suitable to her dignity and family, his only daughter, Misawo, he sent her, at the suggestion of his wife Fatsuse, to the residence of the latter's younger sister Fanajo. Fatsuse had never lost sight of Fanajo, who, out of respect for Teidaifu, had secretly apprised her elder sister of the place to which Tofei and she had fled, and kept up a regular correspondence with her. In order to quiet the fears of Fatsuse, Fanajo, however, made no mention in her letters of the extreme indigence to which she was reduced, but rather wrote so as to lead to the belief that she was doing well. Fanajo and Misawo stood to each other in the relation of aunt and niece; account of the slight difference in their ages, it being only three or four years, the latter usually called Fanajo sister. Though, so far as Tofei was concerned, she was the daughter of his old master, yet for this very reason he made her the object of his special care. was to be found every day at his stand upon the street, and earned his daily bread by the severe and constant labour of a sedan-chair carrier. But he was unable to lay up anything; and in consequence of the prolonged illness of his mother, his household expenses had multiplied to such an extent that he was compelled to send some of his furniture to auction, for the purpose of raising money. Misawo saw starvation staring the family in the face, and she became almost frantic at the prospect before her. She pretended at once that she had made a vow for the sake of Kutsiwa, the mother, and her son Tofei and his wife, to visit the temple of Naujeu for one hundred days, and to read one hundred chapters out of the great prayer-book therein. Kojosi, notwithstanding her extreme youth, was a remarkably intelligent and talkative child, and exhibited great tact in exchanging the little pieces of money which they had gathered in their daily walks for gold, which was given to Fanajo by Misawo, under the assurance that it came from her own home as a contribution to the comforts of the family. but ᎼᏎ He The morning came. It was the third day of the third month, and the day of the feast of Peaches.* Kojosi rose at an early hour, and placed a pair of little figures or dolls, that were left from the sale of the furniture, upon the toilet-table of the old mother. In her childish play she took a peach from an earthen vase, fastened by the mouth to a dressing-case, whose lid was surmounted by a carved dog. She then unwittingly opened the picture-book of the "Parents of the Flowery Field," at a picture illustrating the extreme indigence of her parents, and addressing the two little figures or dolls in child's language, explained to them, as though they were children and could understand her, the meaning of the picture. 66 "Poor little children!" said she, pityingly, to the two figures; we have only one peach between us today, and all the other children have a whole parcel!" Tofei, after waiting, as usual, to see that his mother was comfortable, slung his sedan chair over his shoulder and sallied forth for the labours of the day. “In order to bring about your prosperous and speedy return, my dear sister, to the house of our father," said Misawo, turning to Fanajo, “and to effect the recovery of mother Katsiwa from her distressing malady, I have been for a long time in the habit of daily resorting to the temple of Nanjen to offer up my prayers; but the unusual severity of the present cold weather has had such an effect upon me, that I am quite ill to-day. Will you be so kind as to go thither to-day and offer up prayers in my place." Fanajo assented. "While I am absent," said Fanajo to Misawo, "you will attend to mother, and when she awakes you will be so good as to hand her her diet drink. Keep yourself warm, and be careful that you do not become seriously ill. Kojosi, your mother is going to offer up prayers and will be absent a short time; meanwhile behave yourself properly to my sister here, who takes my place, and patiently await my return." With these words she went upon her errand alone. Immediately thereafter the recently arrived Saizo, of the house of Tokuwaka, looked in at the door, and made a signal to know whether the way was clear. "Come hither," said Misawo, in a low tone, and then raising her voice, she continued-" Yes, all is right." Saizo coughed significantly. "Is any one there? I beg you will show me the way." Her hand was soon locked in his. "I am one of the family of the chief justice of Jenja," added he in a loud voice, as he entered the room, "and my name is Tokuwaka Saizo. The time is near at hand when the lady Misawo shall be one of that family. In obedience to the order of his principal lady-in-waiting, the iady Iwafudzi, I have directed a four-handed sedan-chair of extraordinary beauty, and ornamented with golden shoulder-handles, to be ready to carry you thither. It is in the street near by. Prepare yourself, therefore, for departure without delay." MOTIVES. BY CLARA WALBEY. INDIVIDUALLY, nationally, and universally, the human race can only be improved, be regenerated, through the elevation, the exaltation of the motives which allure, constrain, and enthral it. The national spirit which is manifested in the culture of the arts and graces, in the development of ideal beauty, and its embodiment visibly and palpably, which delights in giving a glorious voice and tangible splendour to it, refines the natures fostered within its influence, and raises them above those which are ruled and manacled by the grovelling, delving demon of wealth -those natures which worship at their earthly shrine with such blind devotion that they mark not, prize not, the beauty that culminates around them, that sprung and perishes at their feet, that glorifies the earth for a season-the skies everlastingly! Yet, the love of, the enthusiastic search after beauty, in the abstract, is unsatisfying, is unproductive of the highest, most en nobling results as a governing guiding power of the mind. So, also, is the love of freedom for its own sake, though the very echo of the word in a patriotic land has power to serrate the bare hills with mountainwarriors, to paint the air with gleaming banners, and burst, with its electric force, the century-rivetted bonds of tyranny and iniquity--to cleave in twain the sullied and crimsoned veil of superstition, and, faintly and imperfectly, show the ineffable glories that are revealed beyond. And thus, individually, the poet who strives indefatigably for the triumph-hours of fame, at every available time, for year succeeding year toiling incessantly, sometimes hopefully, joyfully, proudly sometimes sadly, wearily, miserably, derives no enduring peace, no undisturbed tranquillity and resignation, from the exciting object of his existence. And thus, again, the hero who weaves the ensanguined wreath of victory around his heated brows so boldly, haughtily, exultingly, conceals beneath its perennial leaves the traces of care, discontent, ambition, and haply the furrows of remorse. Yes; ere a nation, a church, or an individual can become great, in the true meaning of the word, it must become purified and exalted by self-denial and selfrenunciation; it must become conversant with, and obedient to, the oracles of duty, immolating on her altars all opposing interests, however brilliant, seductive, or imposing. It must learn, moreover, to regard the present as the means for the attainment of a glorious future, not as a leisure for enervating enjoyment, not as an opportunity for covetous and unbounded acquisition, not as a step to worldly power, perishable dominion, posthumous renown. It must learn to consider existence as a preparatory, probationary state; trials, sufferings, and afflictions as the necessary discipline to refine; and Death not as the disfigurer, the destroyer, the avenger, the despoiler of the beautiful, the plun derer of the earth's treasures, the extinguisher of her starry radiances; but as a beneficent spirit of slumber, promising to the good a glorious awakening; to the miserable, the draught of oblivion; to the weary, the mantle of rest, to the striver for immortality, the crown of hope! Flowers should be strewn where his shadow has lingered, bedewed by tears, but not of wrath or bitterness. Memory should dwell on life's brightest reflections, and virtue and faith gather wisdom and strength from retrospection. It is not sufficient to be able to triumph over the debilitating attacks of pain, to resist the temptations to ease and pleasure, to be independent of wealth and superior to indigence; nor yet necessary or proper that we should be stoically scornful of earth's enjoyments and blessings; but it is quite essential that we should learn to subjugate earthly motives to spiritual ones, that which is temporal to that which is eternal, the will of the finite to the will of the infinite; learn to estimato the relative in contradistinction to the abstract value of things; learn that when it is needful to sacrifice the rich gifts of the present before the cold shrine of futurity, the act must be performed not grudgingly, not cynically, not in opposition to the errors and failings of humanity; not in scorn and defiance of the corrupted dogmas and bigotted exactions of despotic churches; not in supercilious, indomitable rebellion against potentates and dynasties; but in the spirit of gentle, firm, obedience to the mandates of duty; in the spirit of pity and kindness towards mortality, and patience, with its ignorance and the tangled meshes of superstition of prejudice with which educational bias and instilled habit have in many cases environed it as with a barrier impervious to the glow of conviction or the shade of error, and through which can shine but dimly and indistinctly the glorious light of pure example; which gleams now through the gorgeous haze of brilliant, but receding ages, now through the mists of obscurity and penury, anon flashes amidst the dark, invincible hosts of the gathering storms of destinies, crests the sullen, yawning waves of overwhelming catastrophes, circles with a living halo the shrouded memory of the dead, or glorifies the present as it turns its face to the past, while yet beckoning to the future; yet in every phase and every time leaving an impress of its splendour--a record more stirring, eloquent, more powerful than words to excite the apathetic, inert elements of society, and inspire the dreams, the projects, the practical enthusiasm of reform. ation; and by its agency must we hope to elevate the motives of the rising generation, ere its faculties are palsied by inculcated prejudices and superstitions, and by the fatal counterbalancing force of evil example, even more effectually than by direct exhortation and instruction, though these have their mission to fulfil. To point out the way to spiritual improvement, to explain its enduring blessings, to elaborate the details of its interminable advantages, and to repeat this task a thousand times without apparent success, rebuffed often, hoping ever! -to repeat it to the poor emaciated sempstress, whose immediate wants charity has first relieved, in the trust that the dimmed and sunken eye may grow brighter, the feeble voice less querulous, the nerveless arm more powerful, in the faith that such sufferings and trials as she endures may, by the sanctification of patience, piety, and resignation, become instrumental in the attainment of the glorious, the indestructible, the eternal! -to reiterate it to the victim of intemperance until he perceives that resistance to temptation is triumph, and that the present, with its pernicious pleasures and depraving ease and indolence, gradually succu.ubs in importance before the unfolding and approaching future: to the bereaved, the afflicted, the persecuted, until death seems an angel of peace and reward, not a minister of destruction to repea it to the beautiful, the happy, the talented, the wealthy, and the mighty until they feel, however transiently, that the gifts, the endow ments which they prize, the capabilities they exult in, the possessions they boast of, are but trusts for the abandonment of which they are amenable; -are but opportunties for effecting good for the neglect of which they are responsible; powers bestowed for blessing themselves in blessing others. The work must be arduous, often thankless and fruitless in appearance; yet never can it be utterly unsuc cessful, since all that engage earnestly in it will find, by their teachings, that their principles will become more deeply impressed upon their own minds, more felt, more realised; while many an argument-a discourse that apparently fails echoless and unheeded into the abysses of oblivion, may yet be repeated by some unmarked reverberation, and startle the dreams and arouse the dormant ideas of destined reformers and destined patriots. oar man in any of the revenue boats, and in that one, the coxswain was a coloured man. When the ceremony of inspection was over, we redistributed ourselves in our boats, and bore way for Kingston, about six miles distant, on the opposite side of the bay. We had four coloured oarsmen, under the command of Commodore Brooks himself, a very black man with very white linen, whose broad pennant of red with a white ball, swung at the mast-head, to indicate that he was senior officer of the port. He told me that he received his commission from the admiral on the station, and that no other boatinen were at liberty to raise the red flag but himself. I was amused at this style in which these pretensions were asserted, and asked him what he would do if one were so irreverent as to appropriate his colour. He said he would go and pull it down, but added, that no one would dare to attempt such an outrage. I felt my capacity to realise the diguity of our commander gradually expand, and when he added that he had several other boats plying between Kingston and Port Royal, I was awed. Our boat was very well in its way, but the oars were a novelty. They consisted of two pieces. One a long pole the entire length of the oar, of uniform size from end to end. The other was a boara in the shape of an ordinary oar-blade, which was spliced to the pole in three places with a cord "and nothing else." The oarsmen struck the water with the side of the blade to which the pole was attached instead of the smooth side, out of respect to som: principle of hydro-dynamics with which I was not familiar. Instead of thole-pins they used a rope, tied to the side of the boat, through which the oar passed and by which it was detained near, if not in its place, when used. The commodore de fended both these novelties with a force of logic which required nothing but a stupidity among his hearers, corresponding with his own, to render perfectly conclusive. He was about two hours getting us over to Kingston, a distance of five miles. During the voyage I had leisure to contemplate the striking scenery which bounds the city we were approaching in the rear. high range of hills, rising gradually to mountains, sur rounds it on all sides. A As we approached the shore, and the vegetation began to reveal itself, I realised, for the first time, that we within the tropics. We have hot weather at the north, and custom-house officers and negroes-weather as hot, custom-house officers as troublesome as any I have yet encountered; but I had never before seen the Cocoa nut and the plantain growing as I did now. Here, in the depth of winter, orange-trees were dropping their fruits, and the bananas were ready to be plucked; the lignum-vitæ tree waved its luxuriant foliage ornamented with a delicate blossom of surpassing beauty; and in the distance, our eyes were directed to the waving sugar-fields of the Caymaynos, and on Every step in the right direction is a glorious the mountains to the abandoned coffee-estates belongtriumph of a glorious cause, the hallowed precursor of ing to the bankrupt duke of Buckingham. I was most a sublime achievement, and an earnest of that regene-impatient to get on shore, that I might stray into the ration for which the afflicted world so loudly cries in its agony of suffering, and the exempted portion of humanity in the anguish of witnessing that suffering, and the difficulty of effecting which strikes with dismay many a heart that has not quailed amidst the battlecarnage, many a brain that throbs beneath the talismanic wreath of genius, and many a patriotic soul whose dearest wi-h is his country's freedom and his country's happiness! THE HARBOUR AND TOWN OF KINGSTON. We were compelled to stop at Port Royal, to have our baggage inspected by the custom-house officers, before going over to Kingston. The revenue officers were mostly coloured people. I saw but one white country and stare the wonders of tropical vegetation in the face. Notwithstanding my impatience, I was compelled to submit to many delays. My largest trunk, which was handled by the coachiman in New York without difficulty, engaged the devoted exertions of four negroes, in the effort to draw it from the boa, which they effected by instaimen:s, turning it over and trying it in various ways and from opposite sides, as if to see if they could not in some way get the advantage of it. They were two hours in transporting our luggage from the boats to our lodgings, not half a mile distant. And, as the sun was nearly vertical the whole time, their delays were not a little trying to the best or us.— Jamaica in 1850: John Bigelow. |