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would show owners that the decrease both in land-wrecks and shipwrecks which would follow the abolition of the system, would soon compensate them, for the greatest generosity to the penniless or drunken sailor. We have conversed with many shipmasters on this subject, and have not found one who thought the present system just, or of good tendency—all thought its abolition necessary and perfectly feasible, provided the owners and masters in New York or some other large seaport would set the ball in motion. Upon one other most important point alluded to by Dr. Dewey, we desire to remark, viz. sailors' homes and temperance boarding-houses— particularly the Sailor's Home in New York. The greatest and most comprehensive agencies yet put in operation for the good of the sailor are these institutions, and were we to speak all that we feel concerning the good done by the Sailor's Home in New York, we should perhaps be charged with extravagance and fanaticism ; but we will say what we think none can deny, that it has done as much as all other institutions together to raise the sailor in his own estimation and that of the public.” Yet it is equally true that this good has been done at an enormous expense to the charitable public. In 1843–4, the expenses of the Home over and above the receipts amounted to $9,547 82; to meet which, $6,022 82 had to be drawn from the contributions of that year for general purposes, only $3,525 having been devoted expressly to the Sailor's Home. In 1844–5, the expenses above receipts were $7,422 28, to meet which $4,774 63 were drawn from the general funds, only $2,647 65 having been contributed expressly for the Home. It becomes, then, a serious question, What is the reason of this enormous expense 2 Dr. Dewey gives us a reason as follows: “But, alas ! there are yet many
(sailors) who, instead of being able to help others, need themselves to be helped. They have come wrecked from sea, or they have been more fatally wrecked on shore; and their earnings all spent, their clothes, perhaps, half stripped from them, they come knocking at the door of our Sailor's Home for charity both to body and soul; and it is from pitying these strangers and taking them in, that this institution fails as yet to support itself.”—p. 16. Now we are unable to tell the exact number of distressed seamen received into the Home, or the time and expense of the maintenance of each or all, for neither the secretary's nor treasurer's report has ever given us any clue by which we might ascertain. We find, however, by the last report of the Secretary of the Am. Seamen's Friend Society, that “at least 550” were received and maintained at the Home at some expense or other, during the past financial year. Let us then suppose, that these 550 men were each an expense of $7, which is certainly a very large allowance, for a shipwrecked seaman is entitled to his $15 advance, like any other, and $22 (15 and 7) will maintain a man for some time, and even furnish him with an outfit of clothes, sufficient for a short voyage, in which he can earn enough to clothe himself better; and a man in such circumstances must expect to be shipped sooner than any other.” We take this estimate, not because we believe it to be the true one, but because we desire to be liberal. Five hundred and fifty men at an expense of $7 each, would cost the Home . $3,850,— which is certainly neither $9,547 S2, nor $7,422 28—but if these men were each an expense of $10, the sum would amount to $5,500, and yet in last year's account there are nearly $2,000 unaccounted for. And it would seem that the managers of the Am. Seamen's Friend Society have lately come to the conclusion that it ought to take neither $9,547 82 nor $7,422 28 per annum to support the Home—for instead of the $1,250 per annum salary paid to the superintendent, besides valuable perquisites, with an ad libitum allowance for distressed seamen, we have just learned that they have enged this year to give the superintendent only $3,500, and the perquisites aforesaid, out of which sum he is to manage to live, and to give the necessary assistance to indigent searnen. This movement, we maintain, is praiseworthy, though, as an impartial observer, we are bound to inquire why it was not thought of before—but the idea that any thing may be saved is so valuable that we trust the managers, now that it has been found, will fasten their “grapplings” into it and hold on— for some thousands of dollars per annum may be considered a desideratum where the whole receipts of the society do not amount to a great many thousands. We, and not only we, but a great many others, are truly gratified to know that there is a limit to this ocean of expense— the navigators have “heaved the lead” and brought up hard bottom —the Sailor's Home need no longer be considered a bottomless and absolutely insatiable maelstrom, for it can be glutted for $3,500 per annuin. We undertake not to assign any reason for the great expenses of the Home. We pretend to no knowledge whatever in the management of such establishments, but we should not marvel if, on examination, it should be found that much of the “nearly $6,000” paid in salaries to officers and servants, might well be, or have been, spared. But we do not assert that the salaries are too large or too many, because we
* If a man is ill or disabled, he is of course sent to the hospital, for the Sailor's Home is not a hospital but a boardinghouse.
mean to assert nothing of which we are not perfectly sure—we only know that among the various causes assigned by the friends of seamen for the enormous outgoes of the Home, this has been one of the most prominent—but that there must exist some cause not yet assigned in the public documents of the society, is sufficiently evident from the fact, that the Sailor's Home in New York, is, so far as we can learn, the only sailor's home or temperance boarding-house for seamen in the United States which fails to sustain itself, while its receipts must be far greater. The amount of these receipts we know not, and therefore we will allow the reader the same privilege which the secretary and treasurer give to every member of society—the invaluable yankee privilege of guessing for himself. If the Sailor’s Home in New York, can not be maintained without this expense of $3,500 per annum, we say, let it be supported and the expense cheerfully paid; but if this expense may be spared, if, as we are assured, there are good men and truá; men experienced in the busimess, men who are accustomed both to holding and driving their own ploughs, who will be glad to take charge of the Home and pay for it $1,000 rent per annum, and engage to take all destitute seamen who may come, and keep them as long as is necessary without any charge to the society—then we suggest, (and we make the suggestion with a sincere desire to be understood, though the suggestion may be considered unworthy of a thought,) that the arrangement be made at once. This will be a clear saving of $4,500 per annum to the society, and more also, for while a shade of suspicion rests upon the management of the society, the liberal, as well as those who are always ready and anxious to find excuses for withholding, will be deterred from contributing to its support. We know no reason why the receipts
of the A. S. F. S. do not increase in proportion to the receipts of other benevolent societies, unless that the Christian community begins to doubt the sagacity of its management. Instead of $12,000 or $18,000 per annum, its receipts ought to be at least, $50,000 per annum, considering its immense importance. This year they will, we hope, and indeed have no doubt, be greatly increased by the labors of its additional secretaries, and by certain timely legacies just received, and by the very encouraging assurance that only $3,500 will this year be expended at the Home, over and above its receipts. During the “inefficient” administration of Mr. Greenleaf, the receipts of the society were about the same as at present, and in some years more, even without the help of the Sailor's Home, as an extra forcing pump; and though but little glorification was made, something considerable was done in foreign fields, for the evangelization of seamen; and we think it is really to be regretted, that the embarrassments of the society, should have obliged them to spend so much more time in good wishes, than money in good deeds, for the support of the Gospel in foreign ports; and it is not a matter of surprise or sorrow, that the Foreign Evangelical Society, with a full knowledge of the embarrassments of the A. S. F. S.,
should have done in sending a sea
man's preacher to one of the ports of South America, what, under other circumstances, might have seemed an unwarrantable interference. If, for the future, the Sailor's Home is to be a bill of expense to the A. S. F. S., the account of expenditure on account of distressed seamen should be kept separate, and a separate fund asked for and created; for the charitable public has a right to inquire and to know where its money goes; and slurring the matter over at the end of every annual report, by saying a great deal of
money has been expended for the relief of a great many seamen, is not calculated to quiet the natural curiosity of those who are interested. But we have made inquiries of two individuals, well known to the friends of seamen, Capt. Roland Gelston and Mr. Fred. Hennell, keepers of sailor boarding-houses in the city of New York, accommodating about 1500 me... each per annum, (the Sailor's Home receives about 4500,) in order to make definite statements and to enable the reader to arrive at some definite conclusion. Capt. G. informs us that he pays $800 per annum rent, (an expense which the Home has not,) that he paid all his expenses and cleared $200 in the year ending May 1, 1844, and about $300 in the year ending May 1, 1845. He says that he has never refused to receive a shipwrecked or distressed seaman. In 1844, he received of such seamen 90, and in 1845, 80. In both years he has had a great many boys, from whom he obtained but little money. Mr. F. Hennell, formerly cashier of the Home, opened a boarding house last winter on his own account. He pays $800 rent, and says that thus far his most sanguine expectations have been fully realized—he expects to nett a clear profit this year, of from $1200 to $1500. He has never refused to receive a shipwrecked or distressed seaman—a single “noisy, drunken man-ofwar's-man,” he did refuse to admit, but all others he has unhesitatingly received. Indeed, it must be that all private boarding-houses pay their expenses, else, having no charitable assistance, they must of course be closed; and whatever expense distressed seamen may be to the keepers of such boarding-houses, in the long run they are almost certain to lose nothing by a deed of charity, for if the sailor himself never repays them, sailors are clannish men, and the knowledge that the landlord has done well by a shipmate, will often bring a whole ship's crew to board with him at the end of the voyage. We offer no apology for any thing we have said concerning sailors' hospitals or sailors' homes, except the facts adduced, and we only regret that the reasonable limits of an article prevent us from saying more. As we took Dr. Dewey's sermon as the ground of our remarks, the reader will thank us, no doubt, for closing our article with the best passage in the discourse, and, we think, one of the finest in the language. “Yes, many a ship is now consecrated to God. Many a pious master gathers his people together on the holy day. I behold that wonder upon the deep ; that deck, a floating altar; that tapering mast, a spire pointing to heaven; above, the dome of the sky; around, the far-spreading sea, the flooring of God's temple; and there, amidst the vast and listening solitude of waters, go up the voice of prayer and the anthem of thanksgiving ! And when the ship returns, she brings report perhaps—for such things are known— of other gains than those which pertain to the merchandise of this
world; of treasures found by her inmates, richer than Indian pearls or gold of Ophir. Upon the boundless deep its wandering children are learning of Him whose ‘way is in the sea, and whose path is in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not known.' Bibles and good books, provided by kind hands, went out with them ; prayers and good exhortations were uttered in their ears; the blinding mists of intemperance had already fallen from their eyes; and now they have seen the light and felt the power of a new creation. Yes, upon thy wild element, so long estranged from religion, there are now ‘revivals of religion.' I say not with what impersection or weakness of faith, the poor sailor has received the visitation; but I say that the eventful voyage which has brought to him the sense of that power divine, is of dearer concern and value, than if it were freighted for his single behoof, with the wealth of Indian empires 1 Nay, ask himself; and poor as he is, he will tell you that he would not give up his hope in Christ for the wealth of the world !”—p. 15.
MANY seem to think that when the body is sick, it is simply a sickness of the body alone; and the mind has nothing to do with it. They do indeed allow that when actual mental derangement occurs in connection with any disease, the mind is affected with the body; but they are prone to lose sight of the fact in all ordinary cases of disease, and yet it exists in these as really, though not to the same degree. The influence of disease upon the mind is obvious to the most careless and superficial observer, when he sees the delirium produced by inflamma
tion of the brain ; but such cases seem to him to stand out as glaring exceptions to what he considers the great general fact—that the mind is independent of the ailments of the body. Physicians themselves too often overlook the influence of mind in their treatment of disease, and the community generally have sadly inadequate views of its extent and universality. There can not be any sickness of body, however slight, that does not produce some effect upon the mind, and which is not influenced either for good or for ill through mental impressions.
It is important, in the management of the sick, not only that this fact should be kept clearly and steadily in view by the physician; but that it should be understood by the community, so that the efforts of the physician may not be thwarted, as they often are, by the attendants and friends of the sick, when he aims to act upon bodily disease by impressions made on the mind. And I refer not in this remark merely to impressions of this kind where the attempt to produce them is so palpable that the most careless observer would perceive it, but to all those influences which the physician is exerting upon the minds of the sick, in his daily intercourse with them. In truth, every thing that he says and does in the sick room, is to be regarded as really a medicine, and producing as real if not as manifold effects upon the state of the patient, as any of the drugs that he admin1SterS.
It will be profitable then to the general reader, as well as to the medical man, to examine the influences which the mind and the body exert upon each other in sickness, the use which can be made of such influences in the cure of disease, and the abuse to which they are liable from the mismanagement of those who have the care of the sick.
Before doing this, however, it may be both interesting and profitable to look at the connection which exists between the body and the mind. There are various figures used to illustrate this connection. The most common one is that in which the mind is spoken of as dwelling in the body as a habitation. In a certain sense this is true. This tabernacle of flesh, as the Bible aptly terms it, is, in its present state, a habitation, which the mind is to leave in a short time, to return to it, however, at length, rebuilt and refitted in a more glorious, an incorruptible form, to dwell in it then forever. But this illustration of the
mysterious connection of the mind with the body is but a partial one— it does not express the extent nor the intimacy of that connection. The mind is not a mere dweller put into this habitation. Its union with it is not thus loose and easily severed. It is bound to its every nerve and fibre, so that the least touch of the body at any point affects the mind. Instead of being put into the body, it has, being thus interlaced, as we may say, fibre with fibre, grown with its growth, and strengthened with its strength. In the feebleness of infancy the mind is just as feeble as the body, and they both grow together up to the vigor and firmness of manhood, and both decline together in old age. So close is their union through all the stages of life, and so equally is each affected by the joys and sufferings of the other, that we might justly conclude, that at death, when the tabernacle crumbles into dust, the mind falls with it never to rise again, had not a divine revelation told us that, indissoluble as this connection appears during life, almighty power will dissever it and release the soul from the thousand ties that bind it to its habitation at the very moment of its destruction, Were it not for this assurance of our immortality, we could look for. ward in the uncertain future to nothing but blank, drear annihilation, as awaiting our minds, just as it does the minds of the brutes that perish.
In our carefulness to avoid materialism, we are too apt to look upon the mind and the body as two separate and independent things. At death they do indeed become so, but who of us knows that they would, were it not for the fiat of the Almighty 2 Who knows that there is not a necessity for the putting forth of his power in each individual case at the time of death, to prevent the mind of man from dying with his body, just as the mind of the brute does with his The very prevalent notion that the mind is essentially