October 16th.--A day or two ago arrived the sad news of the loss of the
Arctic by collision with a French steamer off Newfoundland, and the loss
also of three or four hundred people. I have seldom been more affected
by anything quite alien from my personal and friendly concerns, than by
the death of Captain Luce and his son. The boy was a delicate lad, and
it is said that he had never been absent from his mother till this time,
when his father had taken him to England to consult a physician about a
complaint in his hip. So his father, while the ship was sinking, was
obliged to decide whether he would put the poor, weakly, timorous child
on board the boat, to take his hard chance of life there, or keep him to
go down with himself and the ship. He chose the latter; and within half
an hour, I suppose, the boy was among the child-angels. Captain Luce
could not do less than die, for his own part, with the responsibility of
all those lost lives upon him. He may not have been in the least to
blame for the calamity, but it was certainly too heavy a one for him to
survive. He was a sensible man, and a gentleman, courteous, quiet, with
something almost melancholy in his address and aspect. Oftentimes he has
come into my inner office to say good-by before his departures, but I
cannot precisely remember whether or no he took leave of me before this
latest voyage. I never exchanged a great many words with him; but those
were kind ones.


October 19th.--It appears to be customary for people of decent station,
but in distressed circumstances, to go round among their neighbors and
the public, accompanied by a friend, who explains the case. I have been
accosted in the street in regard to one of these matters; and to-day
there came to my office a grocer, who had become security for a friend,
and who was threatened with an execution,--with another grocer for
supporter and advocate. The beneficiary takes very little active part in