poetry of the sea, as well as of the land, may seem likely to yield to the utilitarian spirit; but Niagara Falls are yet left to us, and the Mississippi, and, more than all, the ocean, which remains the same, pure and undefiled by all the contaminations of steam and smoke, or any of the inventions which man has sought out.

The love of the sea, that natural inheritance of those who have been born upon its shores, has created a wonderful influence upon New England habits and character. It has called forth and developed the highest qualities of freedom, energy, skill, perseverance and courage, which distinguish our people, and which have nowhere been more fostered and called into requisition than in that profession to which so many of our distinguished sons have been educated. The sea, if it does not make men learned and scientific, educates its pupils to be generous, open-hearted, intelligent, benevolent, conservative, and just. It educates them to be good members of society, and ready to contribute their wealth to all that adorns and cultivates, as well as to what ameliorates and improves the conditions of their fellow-men. Of this truth no city can furnish more ample evidence than our own city of Boston. The wealth brought from the Northwest coast, from China, from Hindostan, from the Isles of the Pacific and the shores of Europe, flows in full and steady streams to enrich colleges,

to endow hospitals, to build schoolhouses, to erect churches, to found asylums for the blind and homes for the sailor, to patronize the arts of painting, sculpture and music; in short, to make our city in fact, as it has long been in name, the Athens of America.

THE STEAMBOAT.

IF the triumphs of steam have been great on the land, changing the business habits and social relations of the world, it has effected a revolution equally wonderful in the affairs of commerce and the domains of the sea. Who, among the most sanguine, could have imagined that the little boat, making its first trip four miles an hour on the waters of the Hudson, was to be the precursor of those floating palaces that now ascend that beautiful river at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles per hour. It is the first step that costs. When the idea is struck out by the inspiration of genius and its truth demonstrated, then science steps in and mechanical invention, to improve and perfect the means of turning the new discovery to the highest use. The whole matter was contained in Fulton's boat. The whole secret of applying the expansive force of steam, as a motive power to machinery, was there, but the means of applying this new agent have been improved, multiplied and perfected, until hardly a resemblance remains between Fulton's engine and

the splendid machinery that now propels our first class boats and ocean steamers.

As the railroad has done away with all the poetry of travel, so the steamboat has well nigh destroyed the romance of the sea. Its monotony becomes tedious. The voyage is no longer varied and relieved by the alternation of calms and fresh breezes. The steamer goes just so many miles an hour, whether the wind blows high or blows low. The quiet of a sea voyage, at times so delightful and so consonant with the scene around us, is no longer known. Our ears are never for a moment at rest from the noise of the engine, which all day and all night shakes the vessel with its perpetual revolutions and eternal jar. Nor have we any longer the delightful uncertainty of the future, which gives scope to the imagination, excites our hopes, and keeps alive the interest of a sea voyage. We know exactly when we shall arrive, and may calculate exactly how many revolutions will be required to bring us into port. All the chance of adventure, of good or bad luck, the uncertainty of winds, the dead calm that tries our patience, and the fresh breeze that raises our spirits and our anticipations, are gone forever. All is reduced to the dead level of certainty and calculation. The ocean itself has lost half its charms, and becomes but a sort of highway, over which, as over a turnpike, are rolling the wheels of innumerable steamers, with their freights of pas

sengers, merchandise, or the dread implements of

war.

As in the case of railroads, we are compensated for this loss-in part, at least-by the speed and safety of the voyage. We are brought to our journey's end in a few days instead of weeks,-no slight blessing to those who suffer by sickness or other privations and annoyances of a sea voyage, or to those who are

To see how money can be made, not spent;"

who bring sample cards in their pockets, or who hurry over to make the earliest selections in foreign markets. A few days and all is over. The wheels cease to revolve, a startling sense of quiet comes over us as the engine stops its thundering sound at last, and we find ourselves stepping out upon dry land, three thousand miles from home, surrounded by strange sights, new scenes, and new faces.

The steamer affects the social relations of the world as the railroad does those of a state or community. Nations are brought nearer to each other, understand each other better, and, in consequence, have fewer misunderstandings. Much is gained for the cause of peace and national brotherhood. Steam is your true pacificator. It makes of one family all the nations of the world, and its shrill whistle announces peace on earth, good will to man.

There is another view, however, in which steam