SINGAPORE.

Leaving Singapore in the early morning, we turned into the Strait of Malacca, and with perfectly serene weather and light but varying winds we slipped easily along through its smooth waters. The land was always in sight, with its eternal verdure, and often we glided by gems of islets that were beautiful enough to grace a paradise. "Eternal sunshine gilds" these shores, and one who would enjoy the dolce far niente to perfection, should have his easy chair on a good ship's deck, with sheltering awning overhead, and sail in the N.E. monsoon season in the Eastern Archipelago.

Occasional puffs of wind favored us, and in the short time of four and a half days we sighted Pulo Penang, and ran through the narrow South Channel into its harbor.

Penang may be described as lovely and hot. It is situated on a plain, and to the westward and seaward rises a high mountain, shutting off the sea breezes, which might refresh the heated brow. This mountain, however, is a noted sanitarium, and on its top a cool climate may be found, which is often eagerly sought for its bracing effects upon the heat-debilitated frame. The American Consul, a worthy Scotchman, had rented a bungalow on the summit for a month. He kindly invited the passenger and myself to spend a night there in turn. The passenger went first, but soon the sad tidings were brought that he had been thrown from his horse and broken his neck. The authority for this statement was that a soldier had told a sailor so. Both professions, fortunately, were at fault and the passenger returned in due time with his neck in good order. His only explanation of the report was the statement, that his pony was so small that he placed his feet on the ground and let the animal gallop away from under him.

In my turn I ascended the hill, and spent the night, returning in the cool of the morning. The deep ravines with their walls of verdure, the beautiful views of the island, the sea and the main land beyond, the delightful coolness of the air, the wonderful specimens of vegetation, such as the air plants, hanging luxuriantly from the branches of trees, fed by the air and rain on their surfaces, the traveller's palms, with stores of fresh water kept in their hollowed leaves for the thirsty wayfarer, and the tree-ferns, twenty feet in height, all these with the strangest bird melodies imaginable made the trip one of enchantment. One bird and a beetle made noises like a sawmill, another bird sang the scale descending—five notes at least, and still another sang it ascending. One more imitated the sound of a bell. At the foot of the waterfall that descends the mountain, baths are established. The Europeans assemble there in the evening and after the external application of water, too frequently take an internal application of "brandy cocktails."

The military band plays weekly on the "Sepoy Plain," back of the town, and a pleasant gathering of the residents takes place.

An orphan-house and mission was being carried on here by some devoted English missionaries, who, like their friend Mr. MÜller of Bristol, working independently of Societies, looked to the Lord to provide. Their Christian fellowship, and the hours spent in searching the Scriptures with them, were precious privileges.

We were a fortnight here, loading tin, nutmegs, mace, tapioca and india rubber, and then sailed for Padang, where we were to complete our cargo with coffee and cassia.

We beat out from Penang against a head wind, and with a slant reached across the Strait of Malacca. We then found light breezes to waft us along the north coast of Sumatra, "the Pepper Coast," as it was known to our East India merchants of Boston and Salem in earlier days. A pleasing change here occurred in the landscape. It is so rare to see ground not covered with verdure in these regions, that the sight of Golden Mountain near the north-west point of Sumatra was quite a treat. It is a finely-formed peak and has much bare ground on its sides, which appears golden in the intense sunlight. This was an enjoyable day, but an anxious night followed. We were sailing pleasantly, with all studding-sails set, through the passage between Pulo Way and Pulo Rondo, twelve miles wide, when at midnight the wind died away and the current swept us toward the island. There was no wind to make the vessel steer, a cast of the lead proved there was no bottom at sixty fathoms, so we could not anchor, and an inspection of chart and sailing directions showed that the rocks arose perpendicularly from deep water. No human device could save us from shipwreck, and unless a breeze sprang up off-shore our bark would soon break in pieces against the rocks. For this breeze I earnestly prayed. All hands were called on deck; a long length of chain was overhauled with the intention of letting go the anchor at the last moment, in the forlorn hope of its finding bottom, and then the crew were stationed at the braces ready to trim the yards the moment a breath of air might be perceived. I stood at the stern watching the nearing approach of the dread rocks, which now loomed through the darkness in frightful proximity, and wetting a forefinger I held it out to catch the first trace of a breeze, but in vain; until, when the last hope was about to expire, and a few minutes more were expected to seal our doom, I perceived the faintest air imaginable breathing off the land. The yards were immediately braced, and the effect was to turn the vessel's head from the shore. I dropped a fishing-line over the stern, and watched to see if it would trail out; but it hung up and down showing that the vessel had no headway. Soon, however, an additional breath came, then a little puff, and to my exceeding joy, I felt the line give a slight pull at my fingers as it stretched out into the wake. Then the water rippled along past the rudder and we slowly but surely glided away from the dangerous coast. Among many recollections of peril and anxiety, that calm hour, when in utter helplessness we looked destruction in the face, will remain prominent for its intense emotion, and the occasion it gave for thanksgiving to the Hearer of prayer.

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Despair.—Off Padang for six days.

The West coast of Sumatra is faced by an innumerable number of islets, rocks and shoals, outside of which lie a chain of larger islands. We kept out in the open sea until off Padang, preferring a more circuitous but safer route than the direct passage along shore. Here we could sail day and night, without anchoring when darkness or squalls hid the way. But our progress was slow and the passage became tedious and trying. In the day time light airs and calms prevailed, the hot sun poured down its rays with scorching intensity, and the air was so clear that we once saw a peak one hundred and six miles distant. At night heavy squalls of wind burst upon us, with torrents of rain and terrific peals of thunder; the balls of fire, called by the sailors corposants, blazed at the mast-heads, and the lightning was incessant. When sixteen days out from Penang we sailed through Siberet Straits, and the next evening just at dark we were within fifteen miles of our anchorage at Padang. A dark squally night prevented our running in, and a heavy N.W. gale and southerly current drove us a few miles south of the port. For the next six days we were hard at work trying to make these few miles, but as soon as we gained a little, a calm prevailed and the current set us back again. The water was too deep for anchorage and we were entirely dependent on the wind, which, however, coquetted with us till endurance almost ceased to belong to our virtues. The captain's state of mind as he descended bare-footed to the cabin after having stood on deck in a rain squall, which was vainly expected to bring a breeze, may be suspected by a glance at our artist's sketch of the posture assumed upon the cabin sofa.

Six days of this harassing work made me so desperate that I took advantage of a long continued squall to run in a dark night along the dangerous reefs, and guided only by the roar of the breakers gained a position, from which the next day we were able to work into Padang Roads and anchor inside of the beautiful Island "Pulo Pisang," or Banana Isle.

After safely anchoring at our long desired haven, a crew of native boatmen manned the bark's boat and pulled me to the town of Padang two miles distant. We rounded Apenberg, the hill to which its chattering monkeys have given a name, and ascended a river a short distance to the landing place.

When the preliminaries of business were transacted, my consignee kindly invited me to reside at his house, and I enjoyed the change from a cabin to a luxurious home. At day-light I visited the vessel, returning on shore after breakfast. The house was built of wood with wide verandahs in front and rear. Posts about six feet high supported it from the ground, leaving a space under the house for air to circulate, and rogues also as it proved; for a few weeks before my arrival a robbery occurred, and it is supposed, in this way. The thieves went under the house and bored holes in the floor of the sleeping room, through which they introduced the smoke obtained by burning the leaves of a narcotic plant. The inmate being stupefied, the thieves broke in at the front door, robbed the house and took away an iron safe that was chained to the bed of the sleeper. They were so sure of their work that they stopped in the garden to open the safe, but being unable to do this, they carried it to the beach and buried it in the sand, where it was found the next day with its contents intact, except a few small articles of jewelry, which the thieves had managed to shake out through a small opening they had made. New York or London could hardly surpass this. Many thought the house servants must have been abettors, as they were accustomed to sleep on the verandahs outside the thresholds of three entrances to the house, so that anyone entering must step over them. Nothing could be proved against them, and we repeatedly had occasion to step over their bodies at night and open the doors when returning at late hours, and at such times entrance was often effected without disturbing their sound slumbers.

The first Sunday in port, I left the officers to conduct the services and attended the Dutch church on shore. I asked the captain of a Dutch vessel to accompany me, but he said: "No, it is not respectable to go to church here, and I am ashamed to." I told him our Lord's words about those who are ashamed of Him; but that didn't trouble him, so I went alone. I found one European civilian present, but not one lady, and some soldiers and half castes. They first sang with great deliberation a Psalm from a book which had the notes printed over each line; then followed a prayer, hymn, half of the sermon, two contributions, the remainder of the sermon a hymn and benediction. During the sermon any one, who felt tired of sitting, arose and stood for a while. After service I spoke to the minister in the ante-room. He and all the men lit their cigars, and after a short chat and smoke they all went puffing towards home. The next Sunday I gladly went on board and was refreshed by the cheerful vigor with which the sailors sang the hymns: "When I survey the wondrous cross," and, "Just as I am, without one plea." The services were held on deck and the singing must have rung over the harbor. Returning on shore, I called on board of a Dutch bark and found a party assembled, among whom was the organist of the church, all drinking brandy and smoking, the minister being absent from town that day.

One day I attended the ordination of a Malay (Mohammedan) priest. The Mohammedan religion is here intermingled with many of the ideas and practices of heathendom, and it is the custom to test the worthiness of the candidate for the priesthood by placing around his waist a band containing long needles with the points against his abdomen. He then at a given signal runs toward an appointed goal. The people give chase and endeavor to strike the needles inwards and kill him. If he escapes, he is deemed to have established his fitness for the office, thus making legs and not heads or hearts the necessary qualifications. On this occasion the Dutch soldiers were present in force to prevent this barbarity, and the ceremony was restricted to a procession, praying and reading the Koran.

There are few places in the world as lovely as Padang. The evening drives along the roads bordered by the tall arching "arrow trees," with views of ocean and mountains on either hand, are amongst the most charming recollections I retain of any land where I have wandered. Kindly hospitalities join to heighten such charms.

The interior of Sumatra is most wonderful. There you enjoy a temperate climate, Swiss and tropical scenery combined, an eternal spring and a fertility of soil almost beyond belief. The suggestion made to me, of taking a plantation, raising coffee and leading a life of exile in a paradise, might have been very tempting, but for the restrictions the Dutch government imposes upon all trade and enterprises, and the obstacles presented by the uncouth Dutch language.

Here "every prospect pleases" and man is no viler than he is elsewhere. Contact with the natives of Asia and the East Indies has raised my opinion of "the heathen." The average of them appear as virtuous and upright as the mass of men in Christian lands. I have really seen less frequent display of vice than I have in our cities, and have noticed many pleasant exhibitions of family affection, kindness and honesty. The people in the interior of Sumatra are represented as being remarkable for virtue, temperance and integrity; and even on the coast they must be admitted to compare very favorably with the foreigners about them, whom it is said they speak of contemptuously among themselves as "drunken Europeans;" but they readily contract their vices. Christianity unquestionably elevates all whom it reaches, but our civilization alone has proved no moral blessing to those who have experienced its influences in the distant regions of the earth.

After lying at Padang for a few days a bark appeared in the offing, and with the spy-glass I discovered that she had our owner's flag at the main. I started for her in my boat, introduced myself to the captain and piloted him into an anchorage.

Capt. Blowhard was a stranger to me, but I was much pleased to have the companionship of a countryman in this far-off port. As we passed the Rocket, he remarked she looked very well, only she was rusty outside. We had finished painting her the day before, so this comment excited my surprise; but I soon discovered the captain's eye-sight was defective, and I had the pleasure of supplying him with a pair of spectacles. We went on shore together, and I introduced him to his consignee; but the polite Dutchman was startled at seeing the captain swing his legs over the arm of the chair and monopolize all the talk with boasts about his clipper bark and her performances. In the evening I took him to drive, and attempted to point out the sights of the place and the beauty of the scenery, but his attention was not to be secured; during the whole of the drive he kept his face toward me, and poured forth a continuous stream of narrative and self-adulation. I learned that he had resigned the command of one of the finest ships in the world to serve his country. He passed highest in examination on Navigation, was appointed executive officer of a large frigate, and soon, for his valor, was given the command of a gunboat. After a celebrated naval battle his vessel was so riddled with shot, that she was sent to Alexandria for the Government to inspect as a curiosity. President Lincoln and a committee from the Senate visited her and gave the captain public thanks for his brave conduct. Commodore —— remarked that there were only three gentlemen in the Volunteer Navy: Smith, Jones, and Blowhard. At the close of the war he was offered a position in the regular Navy, with a splendid command, but he declined, saying he only had desired to serve his country, and he wished no reward. I was much impressed with all this information, and his invitation to breakfast on board the next morning, with so brave, polite and magnanimous a man, inspired me with gratitude and awe. I went on board to breakfast and was politely received. His politeness was then exercised towards his steward, who, being unable to find the napkins (which probably were not often used,) was led around the cabin by the ear until they were discovered, the captain remarking to me, "He's a good-natured nigger or he'd have been killed long ago." The meal was enlivened by frequent abuse of this poor darkey, and I was not sorry when it was time to go on shore. We went in the same boat, and as the captain continually talked with his face toward me, I perceived, what I certainly thought were the fumes of whiskey; but I discovered the injustice I had done him, after a while, when he remarked, "I bought some Cologne at Batavia, and it's the queerest stuff I ever saw; it smells just like whiskey. I put some on my handkerchief just before I left the vessel, and I thought I'd mention it to you lest you might think I'd been drinking, which I never do." This should be a warning to temperance men to be careful in their choice of eau de cologne. We dined together at the hotel that day, and the captain entertained the whole company with his conversation. At one time, addressing a remark to a young Dutch officer, the latter replied: "No speak Engleesh," when the captain rejoined: "Every gentleman speaks English." The officer understood this and accepted it as an insult. Withdrawing from the table he found friendly assistance in concocting an English note, challenging the captain to fight a duel with broadswords. But this met with no response from the captain.

Our friendship did not grow, and the sentiment of kindred nationality failed to continue in its first ardor.

On Sunday afternoons we had services on deck, under the awning. I invited Capt. Blowhard and his crew; but the captain said he didn't approve of letting the crews of different vessels mix together, so we held our meetings by ourselves, with the exception of a few Dutch sailors from a neighboring vessel. As the Rocket and the "F——" were both homeward bound and in the same employ we felt much rivalry about the passage and some interest was excited among the merchants over the anticipated race. As the "F——" was reported the fastest vessel and her captain was certainly the most dashing man, the bets were in her favor. Having less cargo to take in, she was loaded first and got three days start of us.

One calm morning we drifted out of Padang Roads and slowly worked our way southward in search of the Trades; but when obtained, pleasant breezes and fine weather favored us. After passing Mauritius we took "a streak" of strong S.E. and E. winds which put a new face upon matters. Our dull start had made us feel hopeless about the race, but now we seemed to be gaining time and the thought of the "F——" ahead kept sail from coming in many a time when prudence suggested it. Every thing was cracked on and two topmast studding-sail booms were carried away within twenty-four hours. But they were immediately replaced, and on we sped ten knots an hour, feeling we were going very fast, except when now and then an English tea clipper came up astern and passed out of sight ahead.

I learned at sea that there had been one disagreement on board during my absence on shore at Padang. A sailor, called Harry, being reproved for something by the mate, gave a back answer. Then being threatened, he said: "I'm not afraid; you ain't bigger than a pint of cider, anyway." This was an insult that seemed warrant enough for a fight, and few officers could have resisted it. I was pleased to learn, that in spite of this great provocation, the mate had restrained his impulses, in obedience to my orders, and had succeeded eventually in controlling the man.

When the cooler weather again drove us to the cabin in the evening, the passenger lent his patient ear to the story of "Another voyage in the 'Dublin.'"