SEA SONG.

AFTER DIBDIN.

PURE water it plays a good part in
The swabbing the decks and all that--
And it finds its own level for sartin-
For it sartinly drinks very flat :-
For my part a drop of the creatur
I never could think was a fault,
For if Tars should swig water by natur,
The sea would have never been salt!-
Then off with it into a jorum

And make it strong, sharpish, or sweet,
For if I've any sense of decorum
It never was meant to be neat!-

One day when I was but half sober,-
Half measures I always disdain-
I walk'd into a shop that sold Soda,
And ax'd for some Water Champagne :-
Well, the lubber he drew and he drew, boys,
Till I'd shipped my six bottles or more,
And blow off my last limb but it's true, boys,
Why, I warn't half so drunk as afore!-
Then off with it into a jorum,

And make it strong, sharpish, or sweet,
For if I've any sense of decorum,
It never was meant to be neat.

AMONGST the many important topics which at present excite a popular interest, must be reckoned the great question whether the West Indian apprentices ought or ought not to be considered out of their time? A subject presenting such very strong lights and shadows, necessarily produces a powerful and Rembrandt-like effect on the public mind; nevertheless, it is only lately and accidentally, that I have been induced to look critically into the colouring and handling of the picture. It is not my wont to walk wilfully on Debateable Ground; but in the present instance, I was seduced involuntarily into the dangerous confines of "all we love and all we hate," the borderland, where party contends with party.

A few days ago, I was giving an order to a tradesman in the Strand-not far from Warren's-when, to the utter surprise and disconcertment of the master of the shop, a poor African stepped in from the street, and, with an obsequious bow, made an offer of his sable services for a term of years.

L

It would require a far better artist than myself to do justice to the scene which ensued on

he

"In

so unusual an applica
tion. The late Elia, in
his Essay on "Imperfect
Sympathies," has allud-
ed to the natural repug-
nance of the pale faces
to the dark ones.
the negro countenance,"
says, "you will often
meet with strong traits
of benignity. I have
felt yearnings of tender-
ness towards some of
these faces, or rather
masks, that have looked
out kindly upon one in
casual encounters in the
streets and highways. I
love what Fuller beauti-
fully calls these images
of God cut in ebony.' But
I should not like to asso-

ciate with them-to share my meals and my goodnights with thembecause they are black." Such a feeling is truly an imperfect sympathy, but my Strand shopkeeper evidently went beyond the essayist, and regarded "the nigger" with a positive antipathy. "A good horse," says the proverb, "cannot be of a bad colour," but I could not help feeling that a good man might be of an unfortunate complexion; howbeit, of a hue which wears well, washes well, does not fly, and moreover hides the dirt. So far from being able to endure a moor as his companion, the master tradesman could not look upon him as fit to be his subordinate. The mere possibility of such a connexion had never occurred to him, or assuredly, to the advertisement in the window, for an Apprentice, he would have added "a White will be preferred," or "No African need apply." In the mean time, it was sufficiently obvious that, even if indentured, a Hottentot would never be "treated as one of the family." Whilst the master stared an unequivocal rejection, his wife looked over his shoulder at the applicant, with all the physical expression in her countenance, of the anticipation of a black dose; the little boy took fright and tried to bolt; the baby even set its infantine face against the adoption, and the very dog barked and growled at the intruder as at a breed that was vermin. The result of such a scrutiny needs hardly to be told; the poor candidate was unanimously blackballed to his face, and recommended, unceremoniously, to make himself as scarce as a swan of the same complexion.

It will do me no credit, I fear, with our active Abolitionists, to confess, that the above little incident set me seriously thinking, for the first time, on the condition of the Negro Apprentices. In addition to my dread of becoming a sidesman-and there is a spirit abroad which can convert even a black suit into a party-coloured one-I am too apt to take matters upon trust, and to suppose that the name stands for the thing. Thus, in my simple belief, the outward-bound and the homeward-bound apprentices, conformed to the same or nearly the same articles; and if I thought at all of the sable ones, it was as walking abroad on Sundays, drest in all their best, only with Phoebe or Miss Diana, instead of "Sally in our Alley." A common sense of the eternal principles of justice helped, beside, to mislead me; for who, with a drachm of philosophy, or a scruple of Christianity, could suppose, that whilst the accidents of colour are overlooked in a good horse, the moral qualities of a human being were weighed down by such skin-deep casualties as occur every day in a baker's oven? The scene in the Strand, however, aroused certain misgivings; and for the mere repose of my mind, it became necessary to procure further information, in order to come to a settled opinion on the subject. To this end, it was desirable to obtain the sentiments of a Black Apprentice, or at least of a Black, and of an Apprentice, and fortune favoured me in the search. Having delivered my instructions to the tradesman, it occurred to me to pay an overdue visit to a decayed kinswoman in the same neighbourhood, and in whose family affairs I took a friendly interest. She happened to be at home; and after a preliminary conversation on the weather, and Mr. Murphy, and the current news of the day, the discourse turned on her son Richard, whom she had recently articled to an architect; she had doubts, she said, of his being exactly comfortable in his situation, but it was no fault of hers, as he had been placed in it at his own urgent instances, in proof whereof she handed to me the following letter:

MY DEAR MOTHER,

This is to say I am in good health and quite comfortable, and as happy as can be expected away from home. I like being an architect very much. All the work I have had to do for the last fortnight, has been to copy a drawing of a gate for a Porter's Lodge, and to look over portfolios of nice prints. My master is very kind, and lets me fill up my time at over-hours how I like. I always dine with him and Mrs. G., and have plenty to eat of whatever I prefer. Last Sunday we had leg of lamb and asparagus, and a pigeon pie, and a tart, besides a glass of wine afterwards. I'm allowed to sit up to supper because I said I liked music, for Mr. G. plays on the flute, and Mrs. G. sings to the piano. He is a very good man, and she is a very motherly good woman; and the other night, because it was so cold, I had a tumbler of hot elder wine. For the present I sleep in the best spare bed till my own is got ready for me-and when company comes I'm not sent off to it, but played last night with the visitors till

twelve o'clock, and they won all my pocket money. I do hope and pray you won't forget to send me some more, as there's another party next week. Altogether, I could not be better off for food, or amusement, or any thing, so that I needn't be any longer on liking, as I like it very much, and am agreeable to be bound as soon as you and master think proper; and I do hope you won't stick about the premium, as you seemed to think it a great deal-but consider the treatment. Give my kind love to everybody, and accept the same yourself, from dear mother, your dutiful and affectionate son,

RICHARD RUGGLES.

P.S.-Mr. and Mrs. G. desire their best compliments-they are always asking about you in the most friendly way. Pray remember what I said about the premium, as I could never be so happy anywhere else, or make such progress in my profession.

It may be supposed that I did not read the above effusion throughout, without a smile on my countenance; but the mother gravely shook her head, and said she had now to submit to me a very different statement, whereupon with a sigh, and a reflection on the duplicity of the world in general, and of architects in particular, she placed in my hands, Protocol No. 2.

DEAR MOTHER,

I am very sorry to trouble your mind with anything unpleasant, but a great change has taken place since the articles were signed and the premium paid down. All the being on liking has come to a sudden end. Mr. and Mrs. G. have thrown off their masks, and he is a cruel tyrant; and instead of being another mother to me, she is quite the reverse. I little thought the moment I became an apprentice I should be a complete slave, and work like a horse. Nothing but drawing, drawing, drawing, as long as it's light-and next week we begin lamps. I've no over-hours at all except in bed, and that's up in the back garret, and nothing but an old flock as hard as wood. My being a parlour boarder is all over; and as to sitting up to music and supper, I can't repeat, but I'm d-d up at night that I may be down in the morning. They have not sent me as yet to take my meals in the kitchen, but I would almost as soon, for I'm snubb'd if I open my lips at table; and the moment the wine comes on I'm expected to be off, and am reminded if I don't. As for the visitors, they take no more notice of me than they do of the foot-boy; but what goes most to my heart is, Mr. and Mrs. G. never ask now after your delicate health. It's very ungrateful after paying so handsomely, but it's my belief he doesn't know anything about architecture, and only takes in young gentlemen for the sake of their premiums. I can't help feeling very unhappy, when I think I've got to run seven years to come, and do wish you would ask Uncle William, as he's a lawyer, whether I can't be turned over by legal law, or cancelled and left to my liberty. Next to an architect, I should like, if I was