esses which, in
conjunction with the absence of half the crew at once, put an end to
all ordinary routine and drill on board. My friend, the captain of the
forecastle, who apprehended that the Southern leaders would lose their
property, a self-respecting, admirably behaved man in ordinary times,
was usually hoisted on board by a tackle when he returned: for
Montevideo affords only an open roadstead for big ships, and
frequently a rough sea. The story ran that he secured a room on going
ashore, provided for the safety of his money, bought a box of gin,
and went to bed. This I never verified; but I remember a nautical
philosopher among the crew enlarging, in my hearing, on the folly of
drink. To its morality he was indifferent; but from sad experience he
avouched that it incapacitated you for other enjoyments, regular and
irregular, and that he for one should quit. To-day things are
changed--revolutionized. There may be ports too sickly to risk lives
in; but the men to be selected now are the few who cannot be trusted,
the percentage which every society contains. This result will be
variously interpreted. Some will attribute it to the abolition of the
grog ration, the removal of temptation, a change of environment.
Others will say that the extension of frequent leave, and consequent
opportunity, has abolished the frenzied inclination to make the
most--not the best--of a rare chance; has renewed men from within.
Personally, I believe the last. Together with the gradual rise of tone
throughout society, rational liberty among seamen has resulted in
rational indulgence. "Better England free than England sober."

In the end it was from Montevideo that we sailed for home in June,
1861. During the preceding six months, mail after mail brought us
increasing ill tidings of the events succeeding the election of
Lincoln. Somewhere within that period a large American steamboat, of
the type then used on Long Island Sound, arrived in the La Plata for
passenger and freight service between Montevideo and Buenos Ayres. Her
size and comfort, her extensive decoration and expanses of gold and
white, unknown hitherto, created some sensation, and gave abundant
supply to local paragraphists. Her captain was a Southerner, and his
wife also; of male and female types. He commented to me briefly, but
sadly, "Yes, we have now two governments"; but she was all aglow.
Never would she lay down arms; M. Ollivier's light heart was "not in
it" with hers;