Hurrah for New England! | Page 8

to despise. Though I love him dearly, I did not follow his advice, and when the second night I did the same thing, no one laughed at me.
The next day, David Cobb shook hands heartily with me, and said I ought to have been a Yankee boy; for though he had not been brought up to say his prayers himself, if he had, there was not that man living who should laugh him out of it. I shall try and persuade David to do right himself, as well as to approve it in others, for I remember mother's saying,--"Even a boy has his share of influence, and it is a talent for which he must account."
I will tell you more about Old Jack and Moody Dick when I next feel like writing. I do not know when I shall have a chance to send a letter, but I shall try and have one ready all the while. Give my love to all the children, and don't forget to remember me to the servants, especially old Aunt Molly.
Your absent but loving cousin,
PIDGIE.

LETTER IV.
TALK ABOUT GREAT MEN.
FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE.
Banks of Newfoundland, July 15th, 1846.
I begin to feel, dear Bennie, very much as if I should like to hear from you, and sometimes I am a little homesick, when I think how pleasantly Bellisle is looking, and how happy you all must be. Then what would I not give for your pet bookcase with its treasures, the nice Rollo books and Marco Paul's adventures, and dear old Robinson Crusoe! I am tired, too, of looking at men, and fairly long to see some one who will remind me of mother, or my sweet sister Nannie, or of the "Queen of Flowers,"--you know who I mean.
I suspect that brother Clarendon has something of the same feeling, for yesterday I saw him take a miniature out of what I had always thought before was a watch-case, and it was such a pretty face that I don't wonder that he sighed when he looked at it.
But in spite of sighing and groaning, and hard fare and hard work, Clarendon is getting better very fast, and some of the sailors, who at first laughed at his affectation, are beginning to have a profound respect for him, and he in his turn seems to look much more benevolently upon mankind in general, and to be able to interest himself in the rough characters around him. I think he cut the greatest figure washing out his red-flannel shirt yesterday, and he laughed himself at the idea of some of his fashionable friends catching a glimpse of him while thus employed.
I do not like Captain Cobb much, though he is very shrewd, and sometimes tells David and me such funny stories; but he seems to have no principle, and has brought up David to think that if he can ever be a great man it is no matter whether he is a good one.
Yesterday, David and I were having one of our long talks, for we pass a great deal of time in chatting when the weather is not favorable for fishing, and I think we shall soon know pretty well the history of each other's lives. He was telling me about the Latin High School in Boston, and, from what he says of it, I am sure if a boy don't learn there it must be his own fault.
One day we were discussing our favorite characters in history, just as you and I used to do at Bellisle, and David was very much amused when I told him that those I most admired were Aristides, St. Paul, and General Washington. His favorites are Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Washington. So we agree about one of them, but differ widely as to the other two. David absolutely laughed when I mentioned St. Paul with Aristides, and seemed to think that I only named him because I had been taught that it was right to do so. I asked if he had ever read the life of Paul with attention, and this question appeared to amuse him still more; and then he told me he had been through the Book of Acts in Sunday school, and had learned several chapters in it by heart; but for all that he had never thought of St. Paul as a hero.
I asked him what made a hero,--if it was not courage in the time of danger.
"Yes," he said, "but it must be in action, not in words."
I reminded him then of some of the Grecian orators, who made themselves immortal by their speeches, when their country was in danger, and asked if their words were not considered heroic.
This question puzzled him a little, and he was not willing to own that it