n the scientific study of navigation, in
which, I am glad to say, that Captain Solomon Towne was always pleased
to aid my industrious efforts.

We touched at ST. HELENA for supplies, but as Napoleon was still
alive, a British frigate met us within five miles of that rock-bound
coast, and after furnishing a scant supply of water, bade us take our
way homeward.

I remember very well that it was a fine night in July, 1820, when we
touched the wharf at Boston, Massachusetts. Captain Towne's family
resided in Salem, and, of course, he was soon on his way thither. The
new mate had a young wife in Boston, and he, too, was speedily
missing. One by one, the crew sneaked off in the darkness. The second
mate quickly found an excuse for a visit in the neighborhood; so that,
by midnight, the Galatea, with a cargo valued at about one hundred and
twenty thousand dollars, was intrusted to the watchfulness of a
stripling cabin-boy.

I do not say it boastfully, but it is true that, whenever I have been
placed in responsible situations, from the earliest period of my
recollection, I felt an immediate stirring of that pride which always
made me equal, or at least willing, for the required duty. All night
long I paced the deck. Of all the wandering crowd that had accompanied
me nearly a year across many seas, I alone had no companions, friends,
home, or sweetheart, to seduce me from my craft; and I confess that
the sentiment of loneliness, which, under other circumstances, might
have unmanned me at my American greeting, was stifled by the mingled
vanity and pride with which I trod the quarter-deck as temporary
captain.

When dawn ripened into daylight, I remembered the stirring account my
shipmates had given of the beauty of Boston, and I suddenly felt
disposed to imitate the example of my fellow-sailors. Honor, however,
checked my feet as they moved towards the ship's ladder; so that,
instead of descending her side, I closed the cabin door, and climbed
to the main-royal yard, to _see_ the city at least, if I could not
mingle with its inhabitants. I expected to behold a second Calcutta;
but my fancy was not gratified. Instead of observing the long,
glittering lines of palaces and villas I left in India and on the
Tuscan shore, my Italian eyes were first of all saluted by dingy
bricks and painted boards. But, as my sight wandered away from the
town, and swept down both sides of the beautiful bay, filled with its
lovely islands, and dre