BEACON mirable. DEACON-STREET Methodist Epis- | on a side. But its proportions are adcopal Church, Bath, Maine, is one of the neatest little churches in all NewEngland; and it is not so very small, after all. Seventy by forty-four is quite a church; but we care less about its size than we do about its symmetry of proportions. The reader could not have told from the engraving whether it was seventy by forty, or sixty-five by one hundred. The only thing that indicates that it is not large is, that it has but one chimney-top, and only four windows VOL. VIII.-32 It is situated in the north part of the city of Bath, fronting the east, being on the west side of Washington-street, and north side of Beacon-street. The site, which is seven rods front by ten rods deep, cost but $900. Rather different from $14,000 for ninety-six by ninety-nine feet -the cost of the site of our "Trinity" in this city. So circumstances vary the value of the soil in different localities. The basement is of stone and brick, and, excepting in front, is wholly above ground. In this respect it is like the Adams Church, described in the last number of THE NATIONAL. This is a very good way to build, when the surface of the ground will admit of it, as it avoids the two story appearance of those churches that have a basement wholly above a level surface, and also the necessity of ascending to the main audienceroom by stairs in the vestibule; and at the same time it secures a light and dry basement. In this case, also, as in that of the Adams Church, the artist has reversed the picture, showing the entrance to the vestry on the right instead of the left. " The arrangement of the basement is good. The lecture-room is in the rear, where it should be, and the furnaces in front. There is one large class-room opposite the front window, with a stairway leading from it into the vestibule, and a door leading into the entrance hall. The "vestry," as it is called in the plans, occupies half of the basement, has fifty seats, and will seat two hundred and fifty persons. The building is of wood, painted cold cream color, three coats, the last two sanded, and is furnished with green blinds. The posts are twenty-six feet and a half high; roof, shaved pine shingles; windows, best German glass, &c. The tower is seventy-six feet to the top of the second section, with a spire forty-eight feet above that to the finial, which is surmounted by a rod, vane, and ball, some fourteen feet high, making the whole height of the spire, to the top of the ball, about one hundred and thirty-eight feet. This tower and spire look well in the engraving, but lack the effect of the building itself, and even of the drawing from which it was taken. To our taste, it is one of the neatest and best proportioned steeples we have ever seen. Indeed, the whole external appearance of the church is most pleasing. The symmetry of proportions, color, and termination of the spire, are in excellent taste, and perfectly harmonious. We confess to a mortal prejudice against all mere imitations, and must, therefore, question the propriety of the stone corners, made of paint, upon a wooden church. The spire, also, might have gone up, we think, some six feet higher, and then terminated more sharply, or with a smaller finial. But these are small defects, and the latter is much relieved by the compass and vane above. Taken as a whole, we regard it as one of the most graceful little temples on the continent. The main audience-room has only an end gallery for the choir, over the vestibule. The seats are arranged in circles, drawn from the pulpit as a center, with two aisles only. Nothing could be more beautiful for a church of this size. The sixty-eight pews will seat about four hundred persons, and all front the pulpit alike. They are finished with mahogany arms, and the backs trimmed with mahogany. The pews are cushioned uniformly, and the whole auditory, including aisles, pews, altar, and pulpit, is uniformly carpeted. The pews have no doors; so all the noise, usually made immediately after the benediction, by those worse than useless appendages, is prevented. The pulpit, which is circular like the altar, in keeping with the form of the pews, is of mahogany, and is exceedingly neat and beautiful. The platform of the altar is elevated but eight inches, and the pulpit platform only two feet above that, so that the preacher stands only two feet and eight inches above the audience floor. That is just about right for a house of that size. How different from the birds' nests we sometimes see perched ten or fifteen feet in the air. How men ever preached, removed so far from the sympathies of their hearers, we know not; and how the people could ever sit, with profit, for an hour or two at a time, as thousands have done, with their heads thrown back, and their necks aching, is still more difficult to explain. The walls of the main room are painted pearl color, and the front of the gallery white; the backs of the pews a cream color, and the ends grained light oak and varnished. The ceiling is frescoed. It is warmed by furnaces in the front basement, and registers in the vestry, classroom, and main auditory. Ventilation is secured by "pulley windows" and registers in the chimneys. It is lighted with gas. A beautiful ten-light chandelier, with ground glass shades, and costing $100, is suspended from the center of the ceiling. The pulpit is lighted by double brackets, placed on the wall on either side, where they always should be, and the gallery by pillars and brackets, all gilded. There is a fine little organ in the gallery that cost $600, and a sweet-toned bell (key of G.) in the tower weighing one thousand five hundred pounds, and costing $520. "Meneely" has cast few better bells than this; its tones are like music to the ear. citing my interest and sympathy; all these circumstances combined served to convince me of the veracity of the tale. It was a fine moonlight night when first this narrative of adventure was poured into my attentive ears, and never shall I forget the effect it produced upon the group of voyagers that were lingering on deck until long past the hour of midnight, loth, like myself, to quit the cool and pleasant deck, and all the glories of a Mediterranean moonlit sea, for the close and uncongenial berths allotted to us in the cabin. We could just see Malta lighthouse far away on the larboard bow, and the vessel was dashing through the water at a rate that gave us fair hopes of a quick and pleasant passage to England. We were sitting upon the hen-coops, or upon the best available seat that offered itself, recounting such adventures and describing such scenes as our long residence in the East had subjected us to; or else, taking happy mental glimpses of home and longabsent friends, with whom we hoped speedily again to hold familiar converse. Grad ng a fellow-ually to flag, when The pews are sold, so far as they could be, and the balance rented. Those sold went at from $35 to $195 each, and the rent on the remainder is, in most cases, ten per cent. on their estimated value. The entire cost of this gem of church architecture, exclusive of the site, but including all fixtures, was $8,300. But pine lumber is cheap in Maine. Let building committees beware, therefore, and not undertake to build such a church elsewhere for any such money, unless it be where lumber is equally cheap. The plan was drawn by H. GRAVES, Esq., architect, No. 115 Court-street, Boston, and the church built by P. & A. MAYERS, contractors. It was dedicated by BISHOP JANES, June 15, 1853. AN ADVENTURE IN THE LEVANT. HE hero, or rather victim, of the fol passenger of mine in my homeward-bound voyage during the year 1850. A Greek by birth, though a Frenchman at heart, by education and naturalization, he disclosed to me a specimen of the atrocities sometimes perpetrated by a set of freebooters, in the guise and under the protection of their official positions as gens-d'armes, or police constables. Had he not been possessed of the very best certificates from gentlemen holding high rank in the French naval service, as also from the British consulgeneral on the coast of Barbary, testifying to his general good conduct, sobriety, and truthfulness, I might have been inclined to consider the whole affair as a fabrication designed to excite sympathy and compassion for his sufferings. But when, in addition to these certificates, I watched the face of the sun-burned Athenian as it glowed with the feelings of indignation at the recital of the treatment he had received at the hands of his cowardly assailants; when I marked his strong frame quiver and wide chest heave with the various emotions of fear, pain, and anger; when I reflected that, in recounting this sad page from his adventurous life, he was afresh opening deep heart-wounds, and when, finally, I remembered that he could not possibly hope to reap any benefit by ex it was put to the vote and unanimously are a sufficient passport for me to work my way in any part of civilized Europe. The kindness and unaffected dignity of this brave and open-hearted old sailor are too well known to demand any comment from me. There are many of his own countrymen, and not a few English and Americans, who have, directly or indirectly, been brought in contact with him on business matters, or in the more agreeable capacity of guests, passengers, or subordinate officers; and I may safely assert, that none ever quitted his presence without a conviction of their having been in the society of a perfect gentleman, a gallant officer, and a most sincere friend. In the month of December, 18-, the steamer chanced to be lying at anchor in a port in the Levant, and having at that time a sister living at the city adjacent, who was married to a lieutenant in the Greek artillery, to her house it was my custom to repair on all liberty days, or on other occasions when the day's work was over, and I could obtain permission to leave the vessel for a few hours in the evening. I seldom slept on shore, for somehow or other I never fancied myself at home or felt at ease except when I was in my own snug little cabin on board, and my night's repose was never sounder than when lulled to sleep by the gentle lullaby of the rip I pling waves and the music of the Medi- Such were the comfortable circumstances by which I was surrounded when the incident I am about to relate occurred. How terrible its effects have been may be clearly traced by the symbols of premature old age which I carry about my person! (Here the narrator paused, and, lifting his hat off his head, displayed to view the many gray hairs that were thickly mingling with his originally raven locks.) I consider (he continued, resuming the thread of his narrative) that to the terrible incident in question I owe the abbreviation of my life by full fifteen years; for I have never since, in health or strength, been the man I was before the eventful night of which I am about to speak-a night which taught me the uncertainty of the best arranged human plans, and the contingencies to which they are constantly exposed. It was late one evening in December that I obtained leave of absence from the officer of the watch, purposing to visit the shore for a few hours, and promising to be on board again before midnight at the latest. I little thought, on quitting the ship's side, that I should be compelled that night, for the first time in my life, to break my word. I may here state that the town to which I was bound was situated at a distance place, and the road leads over a desolate country, with no house or other buildings save two coffee-shops, which serve as miserable and unsafe half-way houses for the traveler besides these, there is a still more miserable shed allotted to the sentry, who is nominally placed there to protect the highway, and be a safeguard to the : stranger from the assaults and maltreatment of robbers and assassins-a class of men always more or less abundant in these semi-civilized regions. I remained later than usual at my sister's house that evening, for the weather had suddenly set in boisterous and chilly, with frequent squalls of hail, thunder, and lightning, so that I had deferred my departure to the very last moment, hoping that the weather might clear up again. It was not till some minutes past eleven that I quitted my sister's house, despite her tears and remonstrances; for I was determined, if possible, to be punctual to my promise. Well wrapped up in greatcoats and comforters, with nothing but a small ratan switch in my hand, I accordingly started for the sea-side, and walked as briskly as I could toward the point of embarkation. The night was intensely dark, so much so that I could barely see a yard before me, and the wind howled mournfully over the waste; but the pathway having long been familiar to my footsteps, I could have almost picked my way blindfolded. The cold, bleak, cutting blast came in fitful gusts over the deserted country; but the very inclemency of the weather was a source of consolation to me, for I imagined that no banditti would expose themselves to that night's wet and cold, when the chances of booty must have been small indeed, few liking to quit the protection of their comfortable roofs and warm firesides. I neither met nor saw any one until 1 had arrived almost within hail of the halfway houses before alluded to; then, for the first time, through the gloom that surrounded me I discerned the forms of several closely-muffled figures, moving apparently in the same direction as myself, and whom I supposed to be captains or mates of some of the merchant vessels in the harbor, who, for the sake of better security, were keeping together till they should reach their respective boats. I immediately availed myself of such a fa of nearly an hour's walk from the landing-vorable convoy, and, quickening my pace, was soon alongside of the strangers. After exchanging salutations, and commenting on the wretched state of the weather, I inquired if their destination was the same as mine, and was answered in the affirmative. As we proceeded onward, I had time to take a casual glance at the features and dress of my companions; what little I |