notes the workings of his mind, affect the heart more than all the elaborate eloquence of Rousseau could have done, had he attempted the story. The narrative of Selkirk's adventures on the island of Juan Fernandez wants, of course, the excitement of the romance, but still it is abundantly interesting and beautiful. We shall extract it from a well-written life of Selkirk, published in Chambers' Journal.' The celebrated Captain Dampier had projected an enterprise with two armed vessels, under the commission of the Admiralty designing to sail up the river La Plata, and seize a few of the rich galleons which usually sailed once a year from that port to the mother country. His vessels were called the St. George and the Cinque Ports, of twenty-six and sixteen guns, and Selkirk was appointed sailing-master of the latter. They sailed in September, 1703, but were too late for the galleons, which had got into port before they arrived at Madeira. Dampier then resolved to attack some rich towns on the Spanish Main, but dissensions broke out, and by Dampier's orders the first lieutenant of the St. George left the ship at St. Jago. After they had reached the coast of Brazil, the commander of the Cinque Ports died, and Stradling, a man of brutal and violent character, was appointed in his room. Stradling and Selkirk had for some time been on very bad terms, and the latter resolved to remain upon Juan Fernandez, off which they then lay; and when the vessel was about to weigh he went into a boat with all his effects, and was rowed ashore by the captain's consent. His first sensation on landing was that of joy, from the thought that he was now freed from the annoyance which had so long oppressed him; but no sooner did he hear the sound of the retreating oars, than the sense of solitude and helplessness fell upon his mind, and made him rush into the water, to entreat his companions to take him once more on board; but the commander made this change of resolution a subject of mockery, and told him that it would be best for the remainder of the crew that so troublesome a fellow should remain where he was. Thus was he left to provide for his own subsistence upon an uninhabited and uncultivated isle, far from the haunts of his kind, and with but slender hopes of ever again mingling with his fellowcreatures. His mind sunk for some days under the horrors of his situation, and he could do nothing but sit upon his chest, gazing in the direction in which the ship had vanished, vainly hoping for its return. But it was necessary for him to consider how he might provide the means of subsistence. He had brought ashore, besides his clothes and bedding, a firelock, a pound of gunpowder, a quantity of bullets, a flint and steel, a few pounds of tobacco, a hatchet, a knife, a kettle, a flip-can, a Bible, some books of devotion, one or two works on navigation, and his mathematical instruments. The island he knew to contain wild goats, but hoping to observe a passing sail, he preferred for a long time feeding on shell-fish and seals, which he found upon the shore. The island, which is rugged and picturesque, covered by luxuriant vegetation, and clothed to the tops of the hills with wood, was now in all the bloom and freshness of spring, but upon the dejected solitary its charms were spent in vain. He could only wander along the beach, pining for the approach of some friendly vessel which might restore him to the converse of his fellow-creatures. To procure shelter from the weather, he built two huts with the wood of the pimento tree, thatching them with the long grass of the island; one being meant for a kitchen, and the other a bed-room. Yet every day, for the first eighteen months, he spent much time on the beach, watching for the appearance of a sail on the horizon. At length, partly from habit, partly from the influence of religion, he grew more reconciled to his situation. Every morning after rising, he read a portion of Scripture, sang a psalm, and prayed, speaking aloud in order to preserve the use of his voice. He afterwards remarked, that he would probably never be such a good Christian again as he was when on the island. He at first lived much upon turtles, which abounded upon the shores, but afterwards ran down the wild goats, whose flesh he either roasted or stewed; and of which he kept a small stock tamed around his dwelling, in case he should be disabled by sickness. His greatest inconvenience was the want of salt, but in time he never missed it. As a substitute for bread he had turnips, parsnips, and the cabbage-palm, all of excellent quality, and also radishes and water-cresses. When his clothes were worn out, he supplied their place with goat-skins, which made him look more uncouth than any wild animal. He had a piece of linen, from which he made new shirts, by means of a nail, and the thread of his stockings. Every physical want being thus supplied, and his mind soothed by devotional feelings, he began positively to enjoy his existence, often lying for whole days in the delicious bowers which he had formed for himself, abandoned to the most pleasing sensations. Being much annoyed by rats, which swarmed on the island, he found it necessary to enter upon a treaty, offensive and defensive, with the cats, of which there were numbers. He caught and tamed some, and these useful animals soon rid him of the rats, He amused himself by teaching them to dance, and perform many antic feats. Another of his amusements was hunting on foot, and by exercise and habit he could run down the swiftest goat. Some of the kids he taught to dance in company with his kittens ; and he afterwards declared, that he never danced with a lighter heart or greater spirit than to the sound of his own voice in the midst of these dumb animals. During his residence, Selkirk was careful to measure time, and to distinguish Sunday from the other days of the week. Anxious that, in case he should die in solitude, his having lived there might not be unknown to his fellow-creatures, he carved his name on a number of trees, adding the date when he was left, and the period of time which had since elapsed. When his knife was worn out he made a new one, and even a cleaver for his meat out of some hoops he found on the shore. He several times saw vessels pass, but only two cast anchor. Afraid of being taken prisoner by the Spaniards, he endeavoured to ascertain who they were, before he discovered himself. In both cases they were enemies; on one occasion he was chased, and only escaped by taking refuge in a tree. At length, on the 31st January, 1709, after four years and two months' solitude, he saw two British vessels approach. The night having come on, he kindled a large fire on the beach to inform the strangers that a human being was there. Hope having banished all desire of sleep, he employed himself in killing goats, and preparing a feast of fresh meat for those whom he expected to be his deliverers. In the morning he found that the vessels had removed to a greater distance, but ere long a boat left the side of one and came near the shore. Selkirk ran joyfully to meet his countrymen, waving a linen rag to attract their attention, and having pointed out to them a proper landing-place, soon clasped them in his arms. Joy at first deprived him of that imperfect power of utterance which solitude had left to him; and the strangers, for a time, were so surprised by his rude habiliment, long beard, and savage appearance, as to be much in the same condition. When they came to explanations, it appeared that the two vessels were the Duke and the Duchess, commanded by Captain Woodes Rogers, with Dampier as a pilot. Diver, the second captain, and Fry, the lieutenant of Rogers' vessel, were of the boat party; and after partaking of Selkirk's hospitality, invited him on board; but so little eager was he to leave his solitude, that he would not consent to do so till assured that Dampier had no situation of command in the expedition. He was then brought on board the Duke, along with his principal effects; and upon Dampier's recommendation, who said he had been the best man in the Cinque Ports, he was made a mate. He now found that, had he remained on board the Cinque Ports, he must have experienced a worse fate than his late solitude, for soon after leaving Juan Fernandez, Stradling and his crew had been obliged to surrender to the Spaniards, on account of the leaky state of the vessel, and had ever since been in prison.— 'Perils and Adventures of the Deep.' ONE evening, I was, as usual, with Anderson in his cabin; my father having been drafted into his ward, I could not help asking Anderson how he liked him. His reply was, "I like your father, Jack, for he is a straightforward, honest, goodtempered man; and, moreover, has a good natural judgment. I think it a great pity that such a man as he is, should be so early in life lost, as it were, to the country. He is a first-rate seaman; and although there are many like him, still there are none to spare. However, if his country loses, he may himself gain, by being so called away from a service of great temptation. The sailor who has fought for his country, Jack, has much to be thankful for when he takes his moorings at Greenwich Hospital. He is well fed, well clothed, 'tended in sickness, and buried with respect; but all these are nothing compared with the greatest boon. When I reflect what lives sailors live, how reckless they are, how often they have been on the brink of eternity, and wonderfully preserved, without even a feeling of gratitude to Him who has watched over them, or taken their escapes as warnings—when I consider how they pass their whole lives in excess, intemperance, and, too often, blasphemy,' it is indeed a mercy that they are allowed to repose here after such a venturous and careless career-that they have time to reflect upon what has passed-to listen to the words of the Gospel, to hate their former life, and, trusting in God's mercy, to secure their salvation. This is the greatest charity of this institution, and long may it flourish, a blessing to the country which has endowed it, and the seamen, who are not only provided for in this world, but are prepared in it for the next."-MARRYAT'S 'Poor Jack,' 1. This is surely a little overdrawn. If all these vices necessarily belonged to a sailor's life, who would destine his child for such an employment, and what man of moderate humanity would like to have anything to do with his education? The idea at the bottom of the lesson-gratitude for such an Asylum as Greenwich Hospital-is sound, but almost all else is questionable. HYMN OF THANKSGIVING. How are thy servants blest, oh Lord! In foreign realms and lands remote, Through burning climes I passed unhurt, Thy mercy sweetened every toil, Confusion dwelt in every face, And fear in every heart; When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs, O'ercame the pilot's art. Yet then from all my griefs, oh Lord! Whilst in the confidence of prayer, My faith took hold on thee. For though in dreadful whirls we hung, I knew thou wert not slow to hear, The storm was laid, the winds retired The sea, that roared at thy command, In midst of dangers, fears, and death, And praise thee for thy mercies past, My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Thy sacrifice shall be ; And death, if death must be my doom, Shall join my soul to thee.-ADDISON. |