The moral of all this is, that ship-building, like all other human things-except Toryismhas changed, is changing, and will continue to change. Everything, from star to star-fish, while it lives, grows and changes. Death is only change. Our ships are changed things; they are now great machines-no longer the slow ships of Nelson's time. They require new fittings, new manoeuvres, new handling. Admirals and captains will no longer be the men they once were. Mere dogged bravery and reckless bull-dog courage will not do now; we shall want science, and more comprehensive schemes of combination. The next war will show us that all sorts of new elements are introduced into fighting, by the use of iron steam-ships; and woe to those who are the slowest to learn the new lessons which Time, the great schoolmaster of us all, has set them. One-two-then three, poor frightened knaves, with faces gashed and torn, One with a broken sword red-wet, who screamed upon a horn; And then a rout of flying men groaning and very white, 7 Each swearing, as he hoped for grace, Cromwell would come that night. That night our scouts were pouring in, each paler than the last, The shepherds brought us news of Strode, and every troop they'd passed; A moment Lady Blanche turned pale, but soon flushed angry red, To think old England's golden crown should deck a brewer's head. All night the melting lead was poured into our bullet-moulds, The trusty pikes were lifted down from the long ratched-holds, They burnt our stacks, they fired our barns, they harried us all day; At night they poured the hot shot in where we stood firm at bay. They scorched our walls, they blackened doors, they splintered roof and pane, But to the brave old trusty place no entrance could they gain. Our massy walls laughed out to see that grim and yellow host Spur round and round old Wardour's Towers, like couriers riding post. Their pikes were thirsting for our blood, yet we were snug and warm, All under Wardour's battlements were safe from every storm. One day a pale-faced trumpeter the rebel dogs sent in, The gall and bile were oozing through his scurvy, sallow skin; This was the way the Rebel Dogs a sacred treaty kept, Yet God had not forgotten us, nor had his justice slept; For that day week Newcastle's "Lambs" fell on this lying rout, Shot, piked, and sabred half the troop, and burnt the others out. SAVING A PATIENT. I HAD saved between three and four thousand dollars. A practice was for sale. It was offered to me, and I snapped at the offer. Dr. Titus Whilking, of Morgan Town, wanted to dispose of his connexion, and move on to New Orleans. I agreed to purchase the connexion, and, after some haggling, the bargain was struck. Dr. Titus Whilking solemnly Town, as his successor, your humble servant, He bade us all surrender to this Cromwell, "Eng-introduced to all the notables of Morgan The women were to go in peace; the men, yield to the Ambrose Mylner, M.D. I took the doctor's land's lord:" sword. Their swords smote blunt upon our steel, and keen upon our buff, The coldest-blooded man of us had battering enough; 'Twas butt and butt, and point and point, and eager pike to pike, furniture at a valuation. I rented the doctor's house. My brass plate supplanted his upon the mahogany door. I hired a negro boy, and an old black woman as cook, and my establishment was complete. Morgan Town had practice for only one physician. There was, to be sure, a surgeon in good repute, but we did not clash at all, and were very good friends. I think I throve all the better for being an Englishman. Educated persons from the Old World were novelties in that sequestered county, where no Europeans were ever seen except the poor Irish who dug the canals, made the railways, and perished like flies among And 'Twas foin and parry, give and take, as long as we the swamps, under the combined effects of could strike. whisky and fever. To me, the planters were kind and hospitable, and the townspeople friendly enough. One sunken rock, lying in the way of my popularity, I had been forewarned against. This was the fatal subject of negro slavery. Western Virginia was never, in heart and soul, an integral portion of the slave states. Many of the farmers and mechanics have been immigrants from Pennsylvania and other northern states; the blacks are few in number, and properties are small when compared with the long settled estates of the Old Dominion. But it so happened that Morgan Town, on the very frontier of the free commonwealth, was a red-hot focus of pro-slavery politics. I have been in Carolina, Georgia, and the Gulf States, but I can safely say that I never met with fiercer zealots on behalf of the 'domestic institution" than in the immediate neighbourhood of Morgan Town. This gave me great trouble at first. A stranger in the land, I had scrupulously kept aloof from political and social discussions; and, while I had several friends and many well-wishers, I do not believe I had an enemy in the place. Thus two years passed, during which I throve sufficiently to be enabled to set up my carriage. This was a light well-hung vehicle, drawn by a pair of mettlesome Virginian horses, and driven by a negro coachman. I did not become its owner through any spirit of ostentation, but because I was enabled to attend patients at a much greater distance than when my visits were paid by the help of a mountain pony: my first purchase on setting up in country practice. How pleased was I, more for Jane's sake than my own, when I first became the proprietor of a genuine equipage! It was an unhealthy autumn, too: fever was uncommonly rife: my services were in constant request: and I wrote frequently to my patient fond correspondent at Calcutta Lodge, Highgate, in a strain of hope and confidence. I was making money rapidly. In a couple of years more, if matters went on well, I might return with dollars enough to buy a respectable London practice-a practice that would do to marry upon. On a still sultry afternoon of that short autumnal period which Americans call the "Indian summer," my negro lad came into the garden to summon me. He told me that Mr. Japhet Clay, a wealthy Quaker farmer, residing about five miles off, wished to see me. "Very well, Sam," said I, "tell Mr. Clay I am coming." I had no choice but to re-enter the house, where I found the tall old Quaker, formally clad in drab cloth, as usual, but with a look of anxiety perturbing his usually calm face. "What can I do for you, Mr. Clay ?" said I, | shaking hands with him. "There is one sojourning beneath our roof," he said, "who is not only ill at ease, but in some danger." "Fever ?" I exclaimed. The Quaker evaded the question. His eyebrows twitched nervously; and he replied: "If thou canst conveniently pay an early visit to our lone dwelling, called by men the Holt, and wilt inquire for the Honourable Abiram Green (so called), my wife and daughters will bring thee to the sufferer's presence; and, truly, I trust thy skill may be profited to his deliverance from calamity." So saying, the Quaker prepared to depart. "I would come up at once," said I, in some perplexity, "but my horses are tired with a long morning's work. These fever cases don't I allow of delay. I could borrow Major Blight's pony, or ask one of the neighbours for the loan of a gig, or-stay-if you will give me a seat in your carryall, Mr. Clay, that will be best of all." The old gentleman hesitated. "Gladly would I drive thee back with me to my abode, where I hope thou wilt spend the night, but-but I have business at the flour-mill, and I must go to some stores, and the bank-and, in fact, friend Mylner, would it suit thee to walk on as far as Buck's Leap on the road, that I may there overtake thee " I acceded, though I was a little puzzled as to the reason why. Taking a few needful drugs and instruments, which I placed in the leathern hunting-pouch I wore in my forest rambles, I set off to saunter to the place where Mr. Clay was to pick me up. A lonely spot was Buck's Leap: a place where the stream bordering the road was suddenly narrowed between two encroaching boulders of rock: and where a deer was traditionally recorded to have made a wonderful spring from side to side, when chased by hunters in the early days of the colony. There I sat down on a flat stone among the bushes, and waited for the sound of the carryall's wheels. So deep was the stillness, that I heard the wheels of Mr. Clay's carryall rumbling for a long time before the trotting mules and unpretentious vehicle came in sight. "I fear, friend Mylner, I have tarried long; thy patience will be exhausted," said honest Mr. Clay, as he pulled up. He was now in a much more equable frame of mind than an hour before, and we chatted pleasantly enough as we wound our way through the woodlands. The Quaker gave me to understand that the sick visitor was a new acquaintance. "It may be a good thing, carnally speaking, for thee, friend Mylner, to have attended such a patient," said he; "these legislators and men of note at Washington can often give valuable recommendations. Would thou like to be physician to a legislation in Europe, friend? Would thou prefer good practice in New York or Boston ?" "Of course I would." We were now in sight of the Holt: a neat, well-built timber house, with very extensive yards and farm-buildings. Several blacks, whose careless laughter and display of white teeth contrasted oddly with the precise bearing and solemn gravity of their employer-employer, not owner-came bustling out to meet us, as well as a troop of yelping dogs. Giving up the mules to the care of these serving-men, we entered, and were met almost on the threshold by Mrs. Clay, who seemed extremely glad to see us. How was the patient? Not "Much the same. Much the same. over strong. The hot fit was not upon him. Would the doctor go up at once ?" : I was ushered into a bedroom small, but a model of neatness and comfort; the sun was sinking, and but little light was admitted through the jealously closed blinds, so that I could hardly distinguish the features of the sufferer. An intelligent handsome face it seemed to be, though blanched by sickness; but I saw with surprise that while the eyes were bright and clear, the hair was quite grey, and imparted a venerable aspect which would otherwise have been wanting. The patient was propped up with pillows; he was evidently quite sensible, and much better than I had expected to find him. "This, friend Green, is friend Mylner, the physician from the old country, of whom my husband told thee," said the kind Quaker matron, smoothing the pillows with a dexterous hand. "Ah! Dr. Mylner, it was very kind of you to come so promptly, valuable as your time is," said the Honourable Abiram Green, speaking rather hoarsely and awkwardly; “I ani better already, thanks to kind nursing.' So he seemed to be. His pulse was quick, but not by any means so hurried as I had expected. His skin had lost the burning harsh ness of fever. It was evident that a crisis had taken place, and that, even without medical aid, the disease had taken a favourable turn. Having asked and received replies to a few questions, I wrote my prescription, and recommended caution, lest a relapse should supervene. In that country place, where chemists did not abound, I was often obliged to furnish a temporary supply of the drugs I ordered, and so it was in this case. I had provided myself with quinine and other medicaments before starting, and these I supplied to Mrs. Clay with the necessary instructions. She was to send one of the farm hands next day to the druggist's in Morgan Town, to have my prescription properly made up. I noticed, at supper, that my host and hostess were somewhat thoughtful and restless, while their two daughters, Ruth and Rachel, were in excellent spirits. Never had I seen those demure Quaker maidens so brisk and cheery, and there was a look of sly and suppressed mirth in their blue eyes which contrasted strangely with their formal dresses of dovecoloured silk, and the prim arrangement of their shining braids of hair. I could only conclude that they were amused by the presence of a visitor from the great world beneath their parents' roof a most unwonted event in the calm of their monotonous existence. I would not accept a bed, however, though it was late, and though the worthy owners of the Holt pressed me to stay all night. I declined, borrowed a pony-there are always plenty of ponies about a Virginian farm-and rode home through the balmy air of night, and beneath the lustre of a broad yellow moon. He veins. His name was Cato Hammond. So, sir," said the major, "my friend, Paul Randolph, was not the man to encourage the arrogance and conceit of a parcel of niggers. The tobacco land was mostly wore out, and a spec of mining didn't answer; and Paul, my friend, sir-known him from a boy, and a fine high-spirited fellow he is--was pressed for money. So, knowing there was a good demand for light mulattoes to New Orleens, Paul sells the gal, Betsy Hammond, for four thousand dollars, to a dealer from the Gulf States. This fellow, Cato, he goes on his knees and begs that his wife may not be taken from him and sold into shame, and a lot of theatrical stuff he'd got crammed into his head; but Paul says, I am sorry, Cato, but I owe the money. Debts of honour, too, so there's no help for it. Gentlemanly conduct on Paul's part, I call that-explanationing and all to his own nigger, eh ?" "What happened then, major?" asked I, getting interested. Next morning, as I sallied out to pay my Why," said the little officer, "those nigger usual round of calls among my town patients, I scoundrels are the most artful, treacherous encountered Major Blight, with an open news-whipsnakes in creation, and the most ungrateful paper in his hand. The little major looked yel- to boot. Seems this scamp of a Cato had hoarded lower than ever, in his nankeens and loose cravat; up a lot of money he'd earned by building and his ferret-like eyes were redder and fiercer, and surveying, in old Randolph's time, meaning to he was muttering to himself as he read. set up in business with it when he should be set free. Nigh three thousand dollars! A pretty penny for a coloured vagabond to earn! He gave most of this to the dealer, on condition he'd sell Betsy to respectable folks to Richmond City, 'stead of taking her to New Orleens. And what does the gal do but bolt off to Canada— helped off along underground railway by some of those pesky abolitionists, I guess." The major, always the most choleric of men, was working himself up into a towering passion. I tried to pass him with a bow, but he intercepted me. "Good morning to you, doctor! Seen the Gazette, eh? No! Then, sir, you are yet in felicitous ignorance, sir, of the greatest and most wanton outrage, and scandal, and disgrace, sir, that ever was inflicted on a community of white gentlemen." The major-he was only a militia officer, but he was dreadfully warlike-had now run himself out of breath, and he ended with a gasp. When he recovered speech, he went on at great length, and his statement, disencumbered of verbiage, was as follows: A certain planter, named Randolph, residing in one of the southern counties of Eastern Virginia, had a valuable slave. This slave was a young man: a very light-coloured mulatto, or, more properly, a Quadroon, since there was but a trace of African blood in his Here the major stopped to expectorate, and utter a few oaths as a safety-valve to his fiery temper. And the husband?" asked I. Oh, Paul guessed he'd be making tracks to jine his wife in British territory, and he'd no mind to be robbed that way. Yet he didn't like to sell the dog, he was so plaguy clever and useful on the estate. So he jest cow-hided him a bit, by way of warning, and put him in irons every evening at sundown, in the overseer's cottage, to make all safe. With all this, my gentleman gives his master the slip; files his myself to chat with one who evidently knows the world of statesmen and diplomatists so thoroughly." Mrs. Clay assented smilingly, but her youngest daughter put her snowy apron to her mouth, as if to smother a very unaccustomed and unQuakerlike fit of audible giggling. "Ruth, Ruth!" said her mother, reprovugly. irons with a watch-spring saw; goes off in his A very well-informed intellectual person is dandy clothes; takes coach to Richmond City; Mr. Green," said I, as I took leave of the Clays, and passes for a white man-confound his im- after tasting the hominy and hot cakes, which pudence!" they hospitably pressed upon me; "a very supeThe major went on to say that it had been as-rior man, and it does good to a recluse like certained that the fugitive had not yet escaped over the border of the nearest Free Commonwealth, and that he was suspected to be lurking in Western Virginia. A large reward had been offered for his seizure, dead or alive, so incensed was Mr. Randolph at his daring escape, and so important did it seem to make an example that should strike terror to the hearts of all "clever niggers," as the more adroit and enlightened of the enslaved race are called. It was conjectured that the runaway had white friends, who were concealing him, and who would endeavour to assist him in passing the boundaryline, on his way to rejoin his wife in Canada. "I only wish," said the major, grimly, as he strutted away, "that we could lay a hand on them philanthropists! We'd make 'em a caution to all the rest of the breed. 'Tain't tar and feathers will serve their turn, I reckon; no, nor yet flogging, nor rail-riding. A load of brush-appreciated at my just value, elsewhere; and once wood and a lucifer-match will be about their mark, I calculate. I must leave you, doctor. A meeting of citizens is con-vened to organise for catching this black thief.” And the major went away, to attend the meeting. As I went my rounds, from house to house where sickness yet lingered, I could not but think over the strange story I had heard. Prudence bade me suppress my sympathies, but no man born on British soil could help siding in his heart with the oppressed fugitive, whose only crime was his colour. And yet how wonderfully had the consciences of the ruling race been warped by the long habit of trampling on the rights of their dusky fellow-men! Here was Major Blight: bilious and pugnacious, certainly, but a kind neighbour and an honourable man in social intercourse: who was yet unable to comprehend that "niggers" could have any more feeling or privileges than the cattle in the fields! However, I got through my town visits, and, looking at my watch, I saw that it was time to drive out to my distinguished patient at the Holt, the Honourable Abiram Green. I drove out accordingly, and again I was ushered into the darkened chamber; for the legislator's eyes, though bright, were weak, and anything like strong sunshine distressed them. Mr. Green was better. Better, but very weak. His pulse was not much too fast for the normal rate of beating; there were few signs of fever; but the prostration was extreme. Tonics, jellies, rest, and a little old Madeira, were clearly the remedies best adapted to such a case. The convalescent had excellent nurses in tidy motherly Mrs. Clay and her trim daughters. I did not see the farmer himself, who was absent at some distant market. But I had a long and pleasant conversation with my patient, whose voice was much more clear than on the previous evening, and who seemed disposed to talk as much as I would permit. may But girls may have exuberant spirits, and laugh at trifles light as air, even in the Society of Friends, I suppose: so I thought little of the circumstance. I called two or three times, on consecutive days, at the Holt. Mr. Green's convalescence made slow progress, but he did gain a little strength by degrees, and I was always delighted by his conversation. Now and then, he threw out a hint that I was lost in such a place as Morgan Town; that I should be said something about the White House and the president's discontent with his medical adviser; which caused me to write a long and sanguine letter home to my dear Jane at Highgate. Evidently my distinguished patient had taken a fancy to me, and would give me the benefit of his recommendation among his powerful friends. He was mending visibly, and began to fret against the restraint of the sick-room, and to long for fresh air and motion. The Clays, all of them, husband, wife, and children, seconded this wish: not from any inhospitable anxiety to be rid of their guest, but from pure kindness. (There may, perhaps, have been another motive which I did not then guess.) Might not Mr. Green take a little exercise ?" I shook my head reprovingly, as a doctor should, and scouted the innovation; but presently yielded so far as to say that a little very gentle exercise might not harm the invalid, if well wrapped up. For now the Indian summer was over, and there was a crisp frosty dryness in the air. "A drive in a carriage, now ?" Ah! There was the difficulty. Morgan Town had no liveryman, no letter-out of hack vehicles, and the carryall which formed the Clays' equipage, was but a homely affair, jolting horribly. Suddenly Ruth clapped her little hands. She had found an expedient. "Why should not friend Mylner take friend Green for a nice ride in his comfortable carriage, easy as a feather-bed on wings? The doctor had said he was going to Shawnee Ford to-morrow, to visit old Bailey, the lumberer, who was sick. He could call for Mr. Green on his way." Nem. con. the proposition was carried. I agreed to call at the Holt by eleven next day, and I returned to the town. Curiously enough, I believe the sick congress man's presence at the farm was scarcely known to a single white inhabitant of Morgan Town. I had never mentioned my new patient in paying my rounds; indeed, I was the reverse of a |