COOPER'S MILES WALLINGFORD.
IN early society there is a good deal of waste—men waste food, time, and ideas. A high state of civilization turns every thing to ac- count: bones, which the semicivilized throw away, manure our fields, make us soup, or are formed by mechanical art into various implements ; steam and other appliances save the hours and days that were passed of yore in waiting on wind, tide, or slow coaches; and a professed author, so far front wasting an idea, will serve it up in two or three shapes,—a feat that is accomplished in Miles Wal- lirgford. The germ of this autobiographical tale has been suggested by the adventures of NED MYERS, with materials added from Mr. COOPILR'S own experience, as well as hints derived from the put* lications of DANA and CLEAVELAND. The comprehension, con- trast, and variety of fiction, have been imparted by the literary skill of the author ; who has also aimed at a further feature by depicting the different grades of American society as they existed some half century ago, before the march of Democracy had made all men equal. For this purpose, the poor runaway, Nan MYERS, becomes in fiction Miles Wallingford, the orphan son of a respectable franklin, or farmer of his own freehold, with some other property to boot. With Wallingford is associated Edward Ruther- ford, the son of the clergyman of the parish, poorer than Miles, but having a connexion among the gentry of New York; and as each youth has a sister, a reciprocal boy and girl attachment springs up amongst them. Partly by Edward Rutherford's persuasion, partly by hereditary feeling, Miles Wallingford runs away to sea with his friend. Rutherford, a selfish, poor-spirited, but flashy youth, gets sickened of the sea by the first voyage, and on his return takes to the law. Miles, with more energy, sticks to the ocean, and becomes quite a hero of the mercantile marine ; achieving a reputation and adding to his property. The adventures of the work consist in the hero's voyages as seaman, mate, and master ; the more novel part, in family pictures on shore, which terminate in a love distress. Rutherford and his sister Lucy are introduced by a rich relation into the fashionable set at New York ; " expectations," vanity, and innate badness, induce Rutherford to forsake Grace Wallingford for an English belle of the city ; and the story breaks off' with the
lady dying of an atrophy. Meanwhile, Lucy is left a fortune ; which, with the difference that has grown up between their positions and the presence of a fashionable suitor, deters Miles Wallingford from avowing his love : and on his part the tale ends with the two rivals pulled out of the Hudson, into which Miles had jumped to save Drewett, in the presence of Lucy. The sea-scenes occupy the greater part of the work ; and display the character of truth, accuracy, and easy strength, which COOPER possesses beyond most other' marine-painters. Many of them, however, have little novelty, and those which are newer have an air of improbability ; though some of them are artfully contrived,— as the undesigned passage through the Straits of Magellan in a tempest ; the ignorance giving the uncertainty attending upon a voyage of discovery. The capture of the ship on a coral island in the middle of the Pacific by the crew of a wrecked French pri- vateer, and its subsequent recapture by Miles, seem too unlikely even for nautical adventure : but the scene off the North-west coast 4of America, where the Indians surprize the vessel, though extra- ordinary enough, is an incident of very high interest. The pictures of American society at the commencement of the
present century are sketched with ease and finish ; Mr. COOPER ap- parently drawing on his own reminiscences. As a story, the in- terest is somewhat mawkish and deficient. The selfishness, con- ceit, and meanness of Rutherford, though very naturally done, are too transparent : we feel no sympathy in a heroine pining to death for such a fellow. The character of Lucy Rutherford, though laboured, is very charming—a thorough, truthful, unsophisticated young woman : but that only renders Vi'allingford's difficulties, aris- ing out of cross-purposes, more artificial than such a means of mak- ing trouble usually is. A main source of deficiency is insufficient cause. To those accustomed to measure obstacles of connexion, at least in romance, by high rank and reputed descent, the grades of the New York folks seem country -townish. We cannot appreciate the distinction between a colonial lawyer and a first-rate mercantile captain and owner, with a patrimonial property to boot : it looks Tether a subject for satire than sentiment, at all events for six volumes. Mr. COOPER himself evidently grieves over the departed gentry, and intimates the ill effects of their loss with something of the laudator temporis acti. But his picture of' them does not support his opinion ; and really, if they were no better than they tgure in these pages, one can scarcely wonder that Young America overwhelmed them. An aristocracy must have something for a base—political power or privileges, high birth, territorial posses- sions, or superior manners. Men will not own as their "betters" a set with no other distinction than self-estimate, without indigenous self-reliance. As a picture of life, considered apart from the large- ness necessary to fiction, the ashore sketches are admirably done.
The tale breaks off after the fashion of Homeward-Bound, leaving all the parties in distress, dilemma, or uncertainty ; and the author intimates that the story will be continued. Unlike Homeward- Bound, however, the tale of Miles Wallingford is ripe for closing; and, with more preliminary preparation, two or three chapters would have settled the affair. Looking at Eve Effingham, Mr. COOPER'S powers in a continuation may be doubted ; and, remembering the poverty of Eve Effingham when its precursor had really done little more than prepare for a start, we have misgivings that the continu- ation of Miles Wallingford will drag us through a wind-up of three volumes; consisting of dilemmas from misconceptions, self-created distresses, and expeditions of some sort to fill up the intervals of time, analogous to music between the acts, except that Mr. COOPER'S musit: may be longer than his drama. Ntrus verrons.
The number of nautical novels that have appeared since Mr. COOPER first set the example by "A 'rale of the Sea" has pretty well exhausted the incidents of sea occurrences. The following, however, strikes us as a new moving accident by flood.
A STORM—PASSING A VESSEL UNDER RARE POLES.
As soon as the ship was under bare poles, though at the sacrifice of two of her sails, I had leisure to look out for the other vessel. There she was, more _than half a mile ahead of us, yawing wildly, and rolling her lower yard-arm to the water's edge. As we drew nearer, I got hem r glimpses of this vend; 'which was a ship, and, as I fancied, an English West Indiaman, deep-loaded CHI the produce of the islands. Deep-loaded as I fancied, for it was only at instants that she could be seen at all, under circumstances to judge of did fact; sometimes her hull appearing to be nearly smothered in the' brine, and then, again, her copper glistening in the sun, resembling a light vessel kept under the care of some thrifty housewife.
The Dawn did not fly, now all her canvass was gone, as fast as she had pre- viously done. She went through the water at a greater rate than the vessel ahead; but it required an hour longer to bring the two ships within a cable's length of each other. Then, indeed, we got a near view of the manner in which the elements can play with such amass of wood and iron as a ship, when in an angry mood. There were instants when I fancied I could nearly see the keel of the stranger for half its length, as he went foaming up on the crest of a wave, apparently ready to quit the water altogether ; then again, he would settle away into the blue abyss, hiding everything beneath his tops. When both vessels sunk together, no sign of' our neighbour was visible, though so near. We came up after one of these deep plunges into the sallies of the ocean, and, to our alarm, saw the English ship yawing directly athwart our course, and within fifty fathoms of us. This was about the distance at which I intended to pass, little dreaming of finding the other ship so completely in our way. The Englishman must have intended to come a little nearer, and got one of those desperate sheers that so often ran away with him. There he was, however ; and a breathless minute followed, when he was first seen. Two vehicles dashing along a highway with frightened and runaway teams, would not present a sight one half as terrific as that which lay directly before our eyes. The Dawn was plunging onwards with a momentum to dash in splinters, did she strike any resisting object, and yawing herself sufficiently to render the passage hazardous. But the stranger made the matter tenfold worse. When I first saw him in this fearful proximity, his broadside was nearly offered to the seas, and away he was flying on the summit of a mountain of foam, fairly crossing our forefoot. At the next moment he fell off before the wind again, and I could just see his tops directly ahead. His sheer had been to port, our intention having been to pass him on his larboard side; but perceiving him to steer so wi'd, I thought it might be well to go in the other direction. Q‘dek as the words could be uttered, therefore, I called out to port our helm. This was done, of course; and just as the Dawn felt the new influence, the other vmsel took the same sheer, and away we both went to starboard at precisely the same instant. I shouted to right our helm to "hard a-starboard' ; and it was well I did ; a minute more would have brought us down headlong on the Englishman. Even now we could only see his bull at instants; but the awful proximity of his spars denoted the full extent of the danger. Luckily, we hit on opposite directions, or our common destruction would have been certain. But it was one thing in that cauldron of a sea to determine on a course, and another to follow it. As we rose on the last wave that alone separated us from the stranger, he was nearly ahead ; and as we glanced onward, I saw that we should barely clear his larboard quarter. Our helm being already a-starboard, no more could be done. Should be take another sheer to port, we must in- fallibly cut him in twain. As I have said, he had jammed his helm to-port, and slowly, and with a species of reluctance, he inclined a little aside. Then we came up, both ships rolling off, or our yards must have interlocked ; and passing his quarter with our bows, we each felt the sheer at the same instant; and away we went asunder, the sterns of the ships looking at each other, and certainly not a hundred feet apart.
As a contrast to the sea-piece we take a sketch of old times on shore.
AMERICAN TRAVELLING IN 1803. •
In 1803, the celebrated river we were navigating, [the Hudson] though it had all the natural features it possesses today, was by no means the same pic- ture of moving life. The steam-boat did not appear on its surface until four years later ; and the journies up and down its waters were frequently a week in length. In that day, the passenger did not hurry on boaid just as a hell was disturbing the neighbourhood, hustling his way through a rude throng of porters, cart-men, orange-women, and news-boys, to save his distance by just a minute and a half: but his luggage was often sent to the vessel the day befure; he passed his morning in saying adieu ; and when he repaired to the vessel it was with gentlemanlike leisure, often to pass hours on board previously to sailing, and not unfrequently to hear the unwelcome tidings that this event was deferred until the next day. How different, too, was the passage from one in a steam-boat. There was no jostling of each other, no scrambling fur places at table, no bolting of food, no impertinence manifested, no swearing about missing the Eastern or Southern boats, or Schenectady, or Saratoga, or Boston trains, on account of a screw being loose, nor any other unseemly manifesta- tion that anybody was in a hurry. On the contrary, wine and fruit were pro- vided, as if the travellers intended to enjoy themselves; and a journey in that day was a festu. No more embarked than could be accommodated; and the company being selected, the cabin was taken to the exclusion of all unwelcome intruders. Now, the man who should orders bottle of wine to be placed at the side of his plate, would be stared at as a fool; and not without reason altogether, for, did it escape the cl iws of his convives and the waiters, he would pnbably reach the end of his journey before he could drink it. In 1803, not only did the dinner pass in peace, and with gentlemanlike deliberation—not only were the cooler and the fruit taken on deck, and the one sipped and the other eaten at leisure, in the course of an afternoon, but in the course of many afternoons. Passages were certainly made in twenty-four hours in the sloops; but these were the exceptions, a week being much more likely to be the time passed in the enjoyment of the beautiful icenery of the river. The vessel usually got aground, once at least, and frequently several times in a trip; and often a day or two were thus delightfully lost, giving the stranger an opportunity of visit- ing the surrounding country. The necessity of anchoring with a foul wind, on every opposing tide, too, increased these occasions, thus lending to the excur- sion something of the character of an exploring expedition. No, no—a man would learn more in one passage up or down the Hudson, forty years since, than can be obtained by a dozen at the present time.
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