o me like a wanton risk of life, with the vessel rearing
and plunging so that we did not dare to stir on deck, to see them climb
the tall masts, and cling there, scraping and oiling them, to bring out
the veining of the wood. Perhaps it was partly as a discipline in
steadiness, that they were directed to do it,--to get used to working at
such a height. What a contrast to the tawdriness of the steamers we had
been accustomed to, to see every thing about us made beautiful by
exquisite neatness, done chiefly, too, for their own eyes! I saw, then,
why the sunshine was so pleasant on the deck; it was because there was
nothing about the vessel out of keeping with the pure beauty of nature.
I felt safer, too, to think how all things, small and great, conformed
to the laws of Heaven.

One day I asked the captain if he had many of the same men with him as
on the last voyage we took with him. I remembered his pointing out to me
then the fair, honest face of a young Swedish sailor at the wheel. He
said most of his men made many voyages with him. I spoke of another
captain, who told us his men were almost all new every time. He said
that was generally the master's fault; that a captain should not speak
to his men just the same in fair weather and in foul. I looked with
interest, afterward, to see his management of them, and found that,
while every thing went on smoothly, he took pains to converse with them,
and to become somewhat acquainted with each man. Then, in emergencies,
his brief, clear directions were immediately comprehended, and promptly
obeyed. I began to understand the secret of his short voyages (for his
vessel had the reputation of being the fastest sailer between San
Francisco and the Sound): it was partly from his management of the ship,
and partly from his management of the men.

We started in a snow-storm, and at first every thing seemed to be
against us. He had told us that March was not generally a very quiet
month on the water. We took a tug-boat to tow us out to the entrance of
the Straits; but, as the weather grew continually worse, the steamer
was obliged to leave us, with wind dead ahead, and against that we had
to beat out. As soon as we had made Cape Flattery, the wind changed, and
became what would have been a good wind for getting out, but was just
the opposite of what we wanted for going down the coast. These reverses
the captain received with unruffled serenity; although he dearly
delights in his qui