10 THE BOY. 



was a ' bit of picture ' in all his recollections of his father, 

 and most picturesquely has he arranged the pieces 

 in the mosaic of his narrative. We see the bold seaman, 

 bronzed by the southern sun, asleep in his open boat on 

 the Ganges, and mark him start on awaking as he meets 

 the glare of a tiger's eye, its paws resting on the gun- 

 wale. We behold him afloat for three days in the open 

 sea on the bottom of an upturned boat, sharks glancing 

 around him on the crests of the waves. He bears 

 meekly the oppressions of a cruel captain, until his kind- 

 hearted Irish comrade is being chained down to the deck 

 beneath a tropical sun ; then, the genial warmth in his 

 bosom kindling into electric flame, he faces the tyrant. 

 ' The captain drew a loaded pistol from his belt ; the 

 sailor struck up his hand ; and, as the bullet whistled 

 through the rigging above, he grappled with him and 

 disarmed him in a trice/ At the action off the Dogger 

 Bank he does the work of two men. and, when the action 

 seems over, is utterly prostrate ; but no sooner does the 

 sign of battle fly again along the line, than he springs 

 to his feet, fresh as if he had awakened from morning 

 slumber. Not less characteristic is the steadfastness of 

 his manly ambition to realize a competence. As wave 

 after wave of adversity meets him, he rises through the 

 swell, his brow showing clear and proud in the light of 

 victory. 



It was the deliberate conviction of Hugh Miller 

 that his father was an abler man than he. To this 

 opinion few will subscribe ; but the more we study 

 the character of the son, the deeper will be our convic- 

 tion that it is essentially the character of the father, 

 developed, on the intellectual side, with more of sym- 

 metry and completeness, and seen at last under softer 

 lights. Physiologists would probably have something 



