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Updated: May 5, 2025
The essay is too long to quote entire; and any extracts from the Mail's admirable translation suffer by their isolation from the singular chains of ethical, religious, and philosophical reasoning which bind the Various parts of the composition together. The essay was furthermore remarkable as the production of a native scholar totally uninfluenced by Western thought.
Lamport and Holt were rolling down to Rio; the Royal Mail's MAGDALENA, no longer "white and gold," was off to Kingston, where once seven pirates swung in chains; the CLYDE was on her way to Hayti where the buccaneers came from; the MORRO CASTLE was bound for Havana, which Morgan, king of all the pirates, had once made his own; and the RED D was steaming to Porto Cabello where Sir Francis Drake, as big a buccaneer as any of them, lies entombed in her harbor.
The English mail's in as you may see. I'll show you what Mr Gibbs says. He didn't like my last letter. He says he wants bones and sinews, not an artist's lay figure dressed in stage bushman's clothes.
To all sorts of claims and invitations, the reply is, "But it's mail day, you know," or, "I'm writing for the mail," or, "I'm awfully behind hand with my letters," or, "I can't stir till the mail's gone!" The hurry is desperate, and even the feeble Englishwomen exert themselves for "friends at home."
Once we encountered a boat of rude construction, painted all in gloomy black, and manned by three Indians, who gazed at us in silence and with a singular fixedness of eye. Perhaps these three alone, among the ancient possessors of the land, had attempted to derive benefit from the white mail's mighty projects and float along the current of his enterprise.
"It was going to the station for Miss Tempest." "Oh! she's come, then? Have you seen her? What sort of a demoiselle does she seem?" "The sweetest child! she looks little more than a child!" cried Lionel impulsively. "A child, is she? I had an idea she was grown up. Have any of you at Verner's Pride heard from John?" "No." "But the mail's in, is it not? How strange that he does not write!"
'The Mail's' circulation is about all among the class of people who come nearest to being 'rowdyish. So I'm pretty certain, fellows, that 'The Mail' wouldn't take up our cause, and hammer our enemies with the word 'rowdy. 'The Blade' is the paper that circulates among the best people in Gridley." "And Dick Prescott writes for 'The Blade'!"
The natives hoped fervently that the war was between France and Germany, and that France would be defeated. After generations of rule by France, the vanquished still felt an aversion to their conquerors here, as in the Holy Land when Herod ruled. "I hope France get his," said a chief, aside, to me. The mail's delay upset all business. Letters closed on the day the liner was expected were reopened.
The same connection of thought underlies Peter's injunction, 'Like as He ... is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation, followed immediately as it is by, 'If ye call on Him as Father, who without respect of persons judgeth' as a present estimate 'according to every mail's work, pass the time of your sojourning here in fear' that reverential awe which will lead you to be 'holy even as I am holy.
"I never read my letters before breakfast," he remarked. "They spoil one's digestion. I'm afraid the mail's heavy this morning, judging by the weight of the box; so that I shall be busy. You two gentlemen will, I trust, amuse yourselves in your own way. Mr. Howard, the groom will await your orders."
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