“Swinging him by the tail, say I.”

The burlesque vigour of his illustrations sometimes ran to anti-climax.  One day, he talked of something (if I recollect right, the electric telegraph), moving with the rapidity of a flash of lightning, with a pair of spurs clapped into it.

In spite of all this ultra-national bluster, we found him to be a very good sort of man, having nothing of the bear but the skin, and in the test of the quarantine arrangements, the least selfish of the party.

Another passenger was an elderly Mexican senator, who was the essence of politeness of the good old school.  Every morning he stood smiling, hat in hand, while he inquired how each of us had slept.  I shall never forget the cholera-like contortion of horror he displayed, when the clerical militant (poking his fun at him), declared that Texas was within the natural boundary of the State, and that some morning they would make a breakfast of the whole question.

One day he passed from politics to religion.  “I am fond of fun,” said he, “I think it is the sign of a clear conscience.  My life has been spent among sailors.  I have begun with many a blue jacket hail-fellow-well-met in my own rough way, and have ended in weaning him from wicked courses.  None of your gloomy religion for me.  When I see a man whose religion makes him melancholy, and averse from gaiety, I tell him his god must be my devil.”

The originality of this gentleman’s intellect and manners, led me subsequently to make further inquiry; and I find one of his sermons reported by a recent traveller, who, after stating that his oratory made a deep impression on the congregation of the Sailors’ chapel in Boston, who sat with their eyes, ears, and mouths open, as if spell-bound in listening to him, thus continues:  “He describes a ship at sea, bound for the port of Heaven, when the man at the head sung out, ‘Rocks ahead!’ ‘Port the helm,’ cried the mate.  ‘Ay, ay, sir,’ was the answer; the ship obeyed, and stood upon a tack.  But in two minutes more, the lead indicated a shoal.  The man on the out-look sung out, ‘Sandbreaks and breakers ahead!’ The captain was now called, and the mate gave his opinion; but sail where they could, the lead and the eye showed nothing but dangers all around,—­sand banks, coral reefs, sunken rocks, and dangerous coasts.  The chart showed them clearly enough where the port of Heaven lay; there was no doubt about its latitude and longitude:  but they all sung out, that it was impossible to reach it; there was no fair way to get to it.  My friends, it was the devil who blew up that sand-bank, and sunk those rocks, and set the coral insects to work; his object was to prevent that ship from ever getting to Heaven, to wreck it on its way, and to make prize of the whole crew for slaves for ever.  But just as every soul was seized with consternation, and almost in despair, a tight little schooner hove in sight; she was cruizing about,