ivities, at an
instant when my whole soul was engrossed with anxiety on behalf of Grace.

"This milk is just the richest and best that ever came on board a vessel!"
exclaimed the mate, as he was about to wind up his own share of the repast
with a cup of coffee--"and as for butter, I can say I never tasted the
article before. Little Kitty brought both down to the boat with her own
hands, and that makes them so much the sweeter, too, for, if anything can
add to the excellence of eatables, it is to have them pass through the
hands of one's own relations. I dare say, Mr. Hardinge, now, you have
verified this, time and again, in your own experience?"

"In feeling, my friend; in feeling, often, though little in practice, in
the sense that you mean. My family has been my congregation, unless,
indeed, Miles here, and his beloved sister, can be added to my own
children in fact, as they certainly are in affection. But, I can
understand how butter made by the hands of one's own mother, or by those
of such a pretty niece as your Kitty, would taste all the sweeter."

"It's such a providential thing, as you call it, to find _such_ a mother
in the bargain! Now I might have discovered a slattern, or a scold, or a
woman of bad character; or one that never went to church; or even one that
swore and drank; for, begging your pardon, Miss Lucy, just such creatur's
are to be met with; whereas, instead of any of these disagreeable
recommendations, I've fallen in with an A. No. 1. mother; ay, and such an
old lady as the king of England, himself, need not be ashamed to own.[A] I
felt a strong desire, Mr. Hardinge, to get down on my knees, and to ask
the dear, good old soul, just to say, 'God bless you, my dear son, Moses,
Van Duzer, or Oloff, whatever your name may be.'"[2]

[Footnote 2: In that day, all allusions to royalty were confined to the
Majesty of Great Britain; it being no uncommon thing, at the
commencement of this century, to hear "_The_ King" toasted at many of
the best tables of the country.]

"And if you had, Mr. Marble, you would not have been any the worse for it.
Such feelings do you honour, and no man need be ashamed of desiring to
receive a parent's blessing."

"I suppose now, my dear sir," added Marble, innocently, "that is what is
called having a religious turn? I've often foreseen, that religion would
fetch me up, in the long run; and now that I am altogether relieved from
bitterness of heart on the subject o