Ivessels at the wharves. On the table summit of the precipitous hill which rises immediately behind the town, stands one of the finest arrays of dwelling-houses in this countryan extensive neighbourhood of costly villas, with each its ample surrounding of grounds and garden--and this part of New Bedford reminds one of the Isle of Wight or English Clifton. One of the well-remembered events of the town's history—a matter of twenty or thirty years ago—is the opposition made to the introduction of sidewalks; the influential and wealthy of that period insisting that they had walked comfortably enough over the round stones; yet, in the beautiful houses where many of these easily suited persons are now growing old, is to be found luxury in its most refined shapes and costliest superfluities-so readily, in this mobile country of ours, do classes and customs undergo changes the most improbable.

An idea has been liberally and successfully acted upon at New Bedford, which is somewhat analogous to Nature's provision for the supply of the Croton-(three or four lakes in reserve in case the principal one should fail)—and, as it embodies a useful example, both of political economy and of practical philanthropy, I will ballast my sketchy letter with its mention. Whaling, as every one knows, has been the principal commerce and industry of the town since its first settlement. The large fortunes possessed here have been mostly made in this trade, and the majority of the inhabitants, even now, are mostly dependent on it, in one shape or another. From various causes, the profits of this long lucrative resource have lessened within the last few years, or at least the shipping enterprise has not increased with the population and its wants. A further falling off, of this vital supply of prosperity, was foreseen to be possible, and recognized at once as a calamity which the wealthy might not feel, who could easily employ their capital elsewhere, but which would fall very heavily on the families of the maritime class. It was evident that some new industry must be grafted on the habits of the place, and that it must, if possible, be one of which the families of sailors and mechanics could avail themselves, independent of the precarious yield from "following the sea." The decline of many a town shows that the industry of communities is not, in itself, a very Protean or self-restoring principle, and, unless cared for and re-directed

HON. JOSEPH GRINNELL.

15

by far-sighted and higher intelligence, will lose courage with the exhaustion of a particular vein. Enterprise, for individual gain alone, is slow to provide new branches of trade. It must be done from public spirit, and by a combination of the sagacity to contrive and the influence to induce and control capital. This is the moral history of the establishment of the WAMSUTTA STEAM COTTON FACTORY, which has lately been put into operation at New Bedford, with a capital of three hundred thousand dollars, and in which a sailor's daughter, for example, (who else might be painfully dependent, or compelled to leave home and go out to service), may earn four dollars a week by independent and undegrading labor. This is the average of the present earnings of two hundred operatives in this new factory; and, as the investment is already proved to be a good one, other factories will doubtless be built, and the industry of New Bedford, turned into a new and more reliable and acceptable channel, will be independent of the precarious resources of whaling. Towns are well furnished that have controlling minds among their inhabitants, capable of this sort of enlarged foresight and remedy, to provide new conducts against their natural or accidental depletion. New Bedford is indebted for this to its able Representative in Congress, Hon. Joseph Grinnell.

Having never visited the renowned country, CAPE COD, I am making my will and otherwise preparing for an exploring expedition to that garden of 'cuteness. If you look at it upon the map, you will see that it resembles the lifted leg of New England, in the act of giving the enemy a kick. Intending to venture out as far as Provincetown, which is the point of the belligerent toe, I shall probably date my next letter from that extremity-meantime remaining, dear General, Yours, &c.

16

LETTER FROM CAPE COD.

System and Monotony-Booted Leg of Massachusetts-First Stop below the Garter-Yarmouth and its Vertebral Street-Sentiment on Cape Cod-Stage-driver's Plenipotentiary Vocation-Delicate Messages delivered in Public-More Taste for Business than Rural Seclusion-Sameness and Plainness of Building-Republican Equality -Cute Lad-Yanno the Handsome Chief-Cape Cod PoetessComparative Growth of Trees and Captains-Boxed Gardens- Misfortune of too Good Company-Centenarian Servant known as "The Old Gentleman"-Man One Hundred and Nine Years Old, who had never been out of Temper, etc., etc.

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You must leave the railroad to know anything of the character of New England. A wooden Station-house, with "Gentlemen's Room,' Ladies' Saloon," a clock, and a counter for pies and coffee, is the picture repeated with as little variety as a string of mile-posts, from one end of a route to the other. System and punctuality, such valuable and invariable characteristics as they are, of rail-roading in Yankeeland, are accompanied, as invariably, by stiff gravity and monotony-the excitement of curiosity, which a stranger awakens as he goes, being the only gleam of animation upon the meeting-house physiognomy of the cars. With my getting round the head of Buzzard's Bay, therefore, my dear General -(three hours of rail-roading from New Bedford to Sandwich) -you would be no more interested than in a history of a man's travels while changing his seat from the broad-aisle to the sideaisle to see more of the congregation.

On the raised leg of New England, (which Cape Cod, or Barnstable County, looks to be, on the map,) the proposed ship canal from Buzzard's Bay to Massachusetts Bay, would be the well-placed garter. Mr. Everett, by-the-way, very felicitously called this peninsular Cape the outstretched arm which Providence held forth, to enclose, with protecting welcome, the Pilgrims of the Mayflower; but I insist, notwithstanding, that it resembles more a raised leg, clad with the spurred boot of a cavalier-Falmouth, at the spacious opening of its top, the long island off Chatham forming the long rowel of its spur, and the Elizabeth cluster, from Naushon to Kutiyhunk, furnishing its appropriate edging of lace.

The railroad, extending only to Sandwich, barely crosses the line of this proposed garter canal. My companion and guide

DRIVER'S VOCATION.

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intended to lodge ten miles further down, at Yarmouth. We found an old-fashioned stage, waiting for passengers "bound down," and, rejoicing in it as a long missed and pleasant friend, I mounted to the top for one of the pleasantest summerevening rides that I remember. With a full moon rising before us, a delicious southern breeze laden with the breath of sweetbriar and new hay, and a consequent mood rather sentimental than otherwise, I commenced acquaintance with Cape Coda country, the mention of which does not (usually, at least,) call up associations of so tender a complexion.

We were fourteen passengers, but the carrying of us and our baggage seemed to be a secondary part of the driver's vocation. He was apparently the agent, parcel-carrier, commission-broker, apologist, and bearer of special intelligence for the whole population. His hat was the "way-mail," and with his whip and the reins for four horses in his hands, he uncovered, and transacted business constantly and expeditiously. The presence of fourteen detained listeners was no barrier to the delivery of confidential messages. We pulled up before one of the most respectable-looking houses on the road, and a gentleman came out, evidently prepared to receive something he had expected.

"Mr. B

said the driver, "told me to tell yer he could'nt send yer that money to-day."

"Why not?" said the expectant, clearly disappointed. "'Cause he had to go to Court."

"Wal!" said the gentleman, putting his hands in his pockets and giving the driver a sly look as he turned on his heel, “you hain't pocketed it yourself, have yer?”

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"Tluck, tluck!" and along we went again, pulling up, a mile further on, to receive a parcel from a man in an apron. Seventy-five cents to be paid on that!"" said the mechanic, holding out his hand to receive from the driver what his customer was to pay on delivery-an advance, or loan on security, of course, which the driver handed over without objection.

Presently we were stopped by a man with a letter in his hand. The driver was a minute or two decyphering the address, and, after some delay, to which none of the fourteen passengers made any objection, he discovered that it was directed to Boston, and he was to drop it into the office at Yarmouth.

C

"Anything to pay on't?" asked the man.

"No. Tluck, tluck!" and away we went again.

These, and slighter errands made a difference of perhaps half an hour in our time of arrival-a tax upon transient passengers for the benefit of regular customers on the road, which is, no doubt, politic enough in the stage proprietor, but which, like most other arrangements of the Cape, was indicative of the primitive simplicity of old time.

Barnstable and Yarmouth-once several miles apart-have built up to each other, and a stranger would have no idea where the two towns divide. This is the result of a peculiar fashion which prevails all over the Cape, of building nowhere but on the stage-road, the houses and gardens of these populous villages being all strung, thus, upon one string. I inquired the length of the street, or extension of contiguous houses, through which we had come to Yarmouth, and was told it was five miles. So exclusively is it "the rage" to live on this main street, that the land upon it is worth, on an average, three or four dollars a foot, while, a hundred rods back, it could be had for comparatively nothing. I may mention here, that, on our way to Hyannis the next morning, we came to a most lovely fresh water lake, set in a bowl of wooded hills, and offering the finest possible situations for elegant rural residence. Though only a mile or so from the village street, this beautiful neighborhood was as unfenced and wild as land on the prairies; and of no value for building lots, as the gentleman told me who was our kind conductor. In any other vicinity to a town, in the civilized world, it seems to me, such easy advantages for taste and charming surroundings would have been eagerly competed for, and seized upon and improved by the first winner of a competency.

In the style of building, along through Yarmouth and Barnstable, there is a most republican equality. Usually, in places of the same size, the inhabitants, as they grow wealthy, make a corresponding show in their dwelling-houses. Here, there is scarce one which has any pretension, or could fairly be accused of any superiority which might awaken envy. They are mostly wooden farm-houses, of one unvarying inelegance of model, and such as could be built, I was told, for an average cost of somewhere within one thousand dollars. Yet many of the residents in these simple structures are very wealthy men. The equality, of which this is a type, extends to everything.