but look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive. strange! nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. no. they must get just as nigh the water as they possibly can without falling in. and there they stand—miles of them—leagues. inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues—north, east, south, and west. yet here they all unite. tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all those ships attract them thither?