discovered and massacred, or led into slavery, by some wandering tribe of Arabs or Moors. The accounts I had previously heard of such things made my blood run cold, and I determined, let what would come of it, that as soon as possible we would take our departure, and endeavour to fall in with some ship, or reach a civilized settlement.

'As soon as I returned, I communicated my plans to the men, and informed them of the barren nature of the country, and enumerated all the evils we should inevitably be exposed to if we remained. They were unanimously of the same opinion; but as the state of the sea in the offing precluded any attempt to embark for the present, we set about preparing the boat for the voyage, whenever that desirable event should happen. One of the men, fortunately, had formerly been a carpenter's mate on board a man-of-war, and by means of some pieces of wreck, which the tide had cast upon the beach, we patched up the boat sufficiently to enable her to float. We were now at a loss for caulking materials, but as necessity is the mother of invention, we tore up one of our shirts into rags, and made it into a kind of oakum, smearing it with the tar we scraped off the broken timbers. By noon the following day we had prepared our frail bark for her perilous voyage, and the weather being now calm and pleasant, and the swell outside the reef very much fallen, we resolved to take our departure early the next day. Indeed, it was high time, for our provisions had now dwindled to the lowest ebb, and all we could muster for the voyage was about ten pounds of musty biscuit, a quarter of a barrel of pork, and a very small quantity of spirits. To this may be added a few dozen of oysters, which the men had picked up on the shore; but these served rather to increase than allay the appetite. We had hitherto been fortunate in having a plentiful supply of water, the heavy rains having left large pools in the cavities of the rocks; and to avoid the want of it at sea, we were obliged to fill the pork-barrel and spirit-cask with this indispensable commodity. We found the water in the

first vessel bad enough, but afterwards were truly thankful even for that.

Every thing being prepared early the following morning, we embarked, glad to escape from such a horrible place. The day was fine, and, considering all things, we were in good spirits. The ocean was calm, and there was a fine breeze off shore; but on account of the outer ledge of rocks, upon which there is always a considerable surf, we had to coast it a long way before we found an opening to seaward. This occupied us a considerable part of the day, so that as night closed in we were at no great distance from the land. We kept under sail all night, taking it in turn to watch, and by morning found ourselves a considerable way out to sea, the land appearing faint on our larboard quarter. I judged it most prudent to stand out to sea, as affording the most likely chance of falling in with some homeward-bound ship; but during the whole of that day, till the following one at noon, nothing in the shape of a sail appeared in any quarter; nothing was to be seen but the blue sky, with the meridian sun shining fiercely over our heads, and the vast and dreary expanse of ocean, gently agitated by the breeze. In the evening of the third day the wind died away to a perfect calm; not a breath ruffled the face of the deep, and the moon and innumerable stars reflected their almost dazzling light from the surface of the sea. This was a serious evil; our provisions and water were nearly expended, and the men, in consequence of enduring such a series of fatigue, and want of proper support, were too weak to pull at the oars. There was no alternative but to wait till a breeze sprang up.

'The next day, and for the four succeeding ones, this dreadful calm continued, during which period we consumed the remnant of our provisions and water. A violent thirst seized us, and two of the men, in their agony, drank some spirits mixed with salt water, which only served to increase their torments. On the ninth day of our voyage a breeze from the south sprung up, and we once more got under way, but the men were

now dull and spiritless, and sank into a lethargy and sleepiness, which was the fatal prelude of a speedy dissolution. For my own part, though my sufferings were as great, if not greater, than the others, my spirits never forsook me, I continued to hope till the last; and to this cause, next to God, I attribute my surviving the rest of this ill-fated crew. On the eleventh day, two of the men died in the most dreadful torment; they had been raging mad all the night, and were continually raving of water. Their breath had scarcely left their bodies, when, horrible to relate, the remaining four poor wretches, and the boy, fell to work like ravening wolves, and began to glut themselves with the flesh of their late comrades. My soul sickened at the sight, and my loathing was so extreme, that I turned sick and giddy, and my eyes swam in my head, and my legs refused to perform their office. I now thought my dissolution approaching, and endeavoured to turn my wandering thoughts to that awful change which I expected shortly to undergo.

'How I passed that dreadful night I don't know, but when I came to myself in the morning, I found the remainder of the men lying in the agonies of death, being caused, no doubt, by eating so ravenously after so long a fast. They shortly after expired, and I was left alone upon the wide ocean without a soul to assist me ! Merciful God! what an awful situation for a helpless being such as I was! I had not strength to move the bodies, or even to stir from where I was lying; and exposed as they were to the rays of a blazing sun, the boat would speedily have become a floating charnelhouse. But I was spared such a miserable fate as that which seemed before me: the brig Solway,' of Liverpool, had seen the sail of the boat, and bearing down upon her, took me on board in a senseless and exhausted condition. I here received every kindness and attention from the worthy and humane commander; but it was some days before I had sufficiently recovered to be able to tell my tale. Every body was astonished how I could possibly have survived-inVOL. II. Nov. 1830.

X

deed it does appear almost miraculous. But to bring my long story to a conclusion, I need hardly say that after a prosperous voyage I safely landed in Liverpool, and proceeded home, exceedingly depressed by the disastrous change which it had been my lot to endure. You may be sure,' continued my narrator, ' after this, I had seen enough of the dangers of the sea' not to tempt me forth any more, either to risk my life, or to lose the remains of my fortune.'

·

FINGAL'S BATTLE HYMN.

PREPARE, my sons, prepare

At morning tide the fight to share,
But ere the pibroch's war-notes thrill
Your breasts, or hostile blood ye spill,
My soul shall to its secret hill

And darkly linger there.

Down sinks the starless night, to roll
Its shadows round the warrior's soul.
Already they combine,

ANSELM.

And by each warrior's side doth shine
His slaughter-breathing bright cairngorum;
But say, ere burst the battle storm
With cheering voice, what martial form
Illumes the dreadful line.
'Tis Fingal's armour, gleaming bright
As Heaven's own cloudless morning light.
My warriors, let us breathe

War's breath; the sun that gilds yon heath,
Shall, ere he travel down the sky,
Quench many a lightning-rolling eye;
Like gallant war-hounds let us fly
And dash the foe beneath.

Each hostile hand a spear that wields,
Shall own your Fingal king of shields.
They go they go! they go!
War's whirlwind rolling on the foe,
With eyes that fierce defiance flash,
And lances lending wound and gash;

But they whose blades now proudly clash,
Ah! soon shall moulder low.

Still Fingal, 'midst the battle shock,
Looks dauntless as his mountain rock.
Full many a maiden heaves

Her bosom wild, as death bereaves;
For Loro, rolling darkly blue,
Hath gathered now a blood-red hue;
And carnage thick the field doth strew,
As Autumn strews its leaves.

Malvina late to mirth did bow,

But darkness robes her beauty now.

D, CORKINDA LE.

OUR VILLAGE HOME.

How frail the joy of those, whose time,
Unmarked in youth by village chime;
For whom the hills and dales ne'er shed
A fragrance round their early bed.
They feel not home's endearing tie-
The holy wish, too, there to die-

That scenes of their young childhood's play,
Some grave should yield to hold their clay.
The murmuring stream, the loud cascade,
And dark extent of forest shade,

Whose myriad leaves unceasing move,
Have witching sounds of awe and love;
And through the mind there oft will steal,
Thoughts only known by those who feel,
'Mid nature's scenes in calm, and shower,
The sense of beauty and of power.

Each sound from stream, or glen, or wood,
Or spreading plain's wild solitude,
Or flowers, with store of sweet perfume,
Outrivalled only by their bloom,

Have all mysterious charms, which bind,
With fairy fetters, heart and mind;
And though in joy, or grief, we roam,
We ne'er forget our village home.

W. C. C.