whether powder or shot or wads go in first, en?" He is evidently annoyed at this charge of mine, though playfully made, and replied "Wads, of course." (I recommend this method of gaining information in preference to any unnecessary display of ignorance.) He says "wads." I'll use two to begin with. I must here remark what an ill-constructed affair is a powder-flask; I never seemed to be getting any out at all, and yet, after eight or nine attempts, I found the barrel full almost to the brim-I mean muzzle. This delays me, and I have to begin again. We now get in full view of Puffin Island, and into the rough water. I go below to load, where I can be quiet. I find the Treasure in the cabin, aft. I don't know what associates him in my mind immediately with brandy and rations. He is very civil, and offers to load my gun. I tell him that the wads are already in, and he takes them out. I say, "Oh, you don't use them, eh?" So I gather there are more ways than one of loading a gun. The cabin is very stuffy and hot, and getting up the companion with a gun in my hand is very difficult. Standing on deck with it is more difficult. I now refer to an entry evidently made in shorthand, on account of the motion of the vessel :

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:

'10 A.M.-Rough. On deck. Difficult to write. Commdre. says note Puff. Isle. Put gun down, take log. Commdre. says what long. and lat. Man. school atlas. Puff. Isle not down. Long. and lat. 53 by 4. May 2. Miles or feet? Rough. Waves. Treasure at bow. Waves hat. For help. To fright Pufs. Pufs frightd. Flock flying. Commdre. shoots. Lieut. shoots. Not well to-day. Capn. says calm outside; wish it was inside."

Diary from Recollection.—At Night. I recollect when my turn came I made a shot. Not a bad one as a shot. It must have hit something. In loading rather hastily and jauntily-for I was pleased with my execution, which had quite taken away my qualmishness (N.B.-Nothing like firing off a gun as a remedy against sea-sickness)-I jerked the ramrod sharply down the barrel, and it striking against the wads, or something, jerked itself sharply into the air, ever so high, and fell into the sea. I proposed going out in the little boat and recovering it. The captain said, better get a diver to do that. My shooting was over for the season.

Log. "11 A.M.-Passing Puffin. Calmer. Pipe all hands to second breakfast or first dinner. Rations No. 3 for captain and Treasure. Hungry. Latitude and longitude as before."

At this meal, the waves being still boisterous, we have to hold the swinging table with one hand and eat with the other. We then adopt the plan of two holding while the third eats. As this would prolong the dinner indefinitely, and spoil the third person's dinner, we let the table go and dine as we can. We sit against our berths. At the third helping of soup the commodore's plate makes a rush at his mouth, and I find myself sprawling over the lieutenant. The commodore says I might have helped it if I'd liked. I reply, I mightn't, angrily. He returns, that if I can't help playing the fool everywhere, we'd better give the whole thing up.

After he has said this, he and the lieutenant, accompanied by two plates and the soup-tureen and the table, come right over me all in a lump. I catch hold of the commodore's hair. The rest of the dinner may be described as the Treasure staggering in with hot tins, holding hotch-potch and sea-pies, and we alternately sprawling over one another with soup plates, until one of the ropes break, when we are all on the floor together-tins, mugs, tureens, plates, hotch-potch, sea-pies, my gun, log-book, and powder-flask.

Our yachting is over for this year. I note down the account of our last few days. After the calm came a storm. The captain and the Treasure became so hopelessly intoxicated, that we had to manage the vessel ourselves. We first found it out in consequence of a delay on the part of the Treasure in bringing in dinner. We found him in the caboose boiling our compass in a stewpan, while the captain was doubled up in a corner nodding and smiling like a mandarin. On remonstrating with the Treasure, he became obstinately polite, and clung to the repetition of one word, "tessermonels," by which we gradually understood him to mean that he could refute the present charge of intoxication by reference to his testimonials. The captain only shook his head, and muttered "rations." I called to mind the mutiny of the Bounty, and thought what a horrible thing it would be if our crew suddenly broke out into open defiance of authority. However, they didn't mutiny, but went fast asleep.

The commodore was now obliged to take the steering in hand. We, that is the lieutenant and myself, managed the sails; and it is really as easy as possible to haul in the mainsail-gaff and the top gib-boom, and so forth, although it sounds difficult. The question arose as to where the land was? I thought that it was on the right. The commodore asked how far off? I referred to the index of my map; but as there was no map with it, this proceeding did not help us to any great extent.

He

When night set in should we go on sailing? the lieutenant asked. The commodore said, why not? I agreed with him, why not? Because, the lieutenant reminded us, the compass was broken, and how could we steer without a compass? I agreed with him, and put this question to the commodore as a poser. was ready for the emergency. "How," he asked, "did people steer when they hadn't compasses, eh?" I gave it up; so did the lieutenant at first, though as an afterthought he said, "By the stars." Very well," returned the commodore, "then we'll steer by the stars," and thought he'd settled the matter. I asked, "By what stars?" and the commodore said, that "if I was going to play the fool and upset all his arrangements, we'd better give the whole thing up." I wanted to make a few further inquiries, but the commodore said he must steer, and I oughtn't to speak to the man at the wheel. Taking advantage of his inability to quit his post, the lieutenant and myself went for'ard; and, after a short

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conversation, settled that steering by the stars was humbug. The captain and Treasure were still heavily asleep. Towards evening it began to rain. I didn't know that it did rain at sea; I thought it was only on land, to make vegetables grow. It rained until it was dusk, and then a bit of a wind sprung up. Most extraordinary thing, as I told the lieutenant, that I always thought the wind went down at night. The lieutenant, who had been getting more and more disagreeable ever since the insubordination of the crew, said, "Down where?" If the commodore hadn't asked him to take a turn at the wheel, we should have quarrelled. He didn't manage the steering well; and took, the commodore informed me, all the wind out of our sails. I know they began to flap about in a vacillating manner, and the commodore remonstrated. The lieutenant, who was very grumpy, said "He'd better do it himself if he was so clever." I tried to pacify them by saying, what did it matter? On which they both replied, "Oh, it didn't matter!" sarcastically. Luckily the captain was suddenly restored to consciousness, and came aft, with a rather dazed expression. He said he couldn't make out what had been the matter with him. hoped we didn't think it was anything like intoxication. confessed that we thought its symptoms somewhat similar, but he explained to us that in his case it was a sort of a something that he'd once had when he was a child, and the doctors said it wouldn't come again; but, having come again, it had, he explained, took him quite unawares like. He believed he'd never quite got over the measles. He strongly reprehended the conduct of the Treasure, and proposed that he should be discharged at Liverpool.

He
We

He took the helm, and we were all silent and sulky. I made up my mind that I'd desert when I got on shore; and I think we all, when we did speak, came to the conclusion that we wanted a larger yacht. The Treasure woke up, and became obstreperous and quarrelsome at midnight. He engaged in a single-handed combat with the captain; but, on his foot slipping, he was luckily knocked down the companion, and shut up in our cabin, where he abused us through the skylight until he went to sleep again. His imprisonment prevented us from taking our natural rest below. So we sat on deck, and tried to pretend we were enjoying ourselves. The commodore looked glum, and smoked. The lieutenant squatted with his chin on his knees, and grumbled; while I spent my hours in drowsily meditating on William, Susan, the nautical drama, my costume waiting for me at L'pool, and the probable expenses of our trip. Log.-Morning broke: grey, dull, and drizzling, wind anyhow.

(By permission of the Author and of Messrs. Bradbury, Agnew & Co.)

THE DEATH OF NELSON.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

[Robert Southey, LL.D., sometime poet-laureate, "poet, scholar, antiquary, critic, and historian," was one of the most voluminous writers of his own, or perhaps any age. He sprung from the people, and was the son of a linendraper, who sent him to Westminster school, and afterwards to Oxford. He achieved for himself the highest place among nature's noblemen by the right of his nobility of mind; and he left at his death 12,000l., to be divided among his children, and one of the most valuable private libraries in the kingdom. His principal poems are, "Thalaba the Destroyer," and the "Curse of Kehama." In biography, his "Life of Nelson" has been held up, with justice, as a model for all writers of biography. His "Doctor," a sort of common-place book, is a work full of suggestions useful to the student, but full of affectations, which would scarcely be agreeable to the general reader. It was in his early youth that he wrote "The Well of St. Keyne," "Mary the Maid of the Inn," and those ballads which have been the admiration of the rising generation for the last fifty years, and which are still so fresh and so charming when well orally delivered. Southey was twice married; the second time to Miss Caroline Bowles, the poetess, who, as Mrs. Southey, has also made an enduring reputation. It may be said of him, that he literally worked his brain dry, for at last his intellect became clouded, and his power of comprehension faded out of him. He was born at Bristol 1774, and died at Greta 1843.]

NELSON having despatched his business at Portsmouth, endeavoured to elude the populace by taking a by-way to the beach; but a crowd collected in his train, pressing forward, to obtain a sight of his face; many were in tears, and many knelt down before him, and blessed him as he passed. England has had many heroes, but never one who so entirely possessed the love of his fellow-countrymen as Nelson. All men knew that his heart was as humane as it was fearless; that there was not in his nature the slightest alloy of selfishness or cupidity; but that, with perfect and entire devotion, he served his country with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength; and, therefore, they loved him as truly and as fervently as he loved England. They pressed upon the parapet to gaze after him when his barge pushed off, and he was returning their cheers by waving his hat. The sentinels, who endeavoured to prevent them from trespassing upon this ground, were wedged among the crowd; and an officer who, not very prudently upon such an occasion, ordered them to drive the people down with their bayonets, was compelled speedily to retreat; for the people would not be debarred from gazing, till the last moment, upon the hero— the darling hero of England!

It had been part of Nelson's prayer, that the British fleet migh be distinguished by humanity in the victory which he expected. Setting an example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing on the Redoubtable, supposing that she had struck, because her guns were silent; for, as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his death. A ball, fired from her mizen-top, which, in the then situation of the two vessels, was not

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more than fifteen yards from that part of the deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. Hardy, who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw three men raising him up. They have done for me at last, Hardy," said he. "I hope not," cried Hardy. "Yes!" he replied; "my backbone is shot through." Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones should be rove immediately: then, that he might not be seen by the crew, he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars. Had he but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy, England, perhaps, would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon a pallet in the midshipmen's berth. It was soon perceived, upon examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed from all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back, and the gush of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to those to whom he might be useful: "for," said he, “you can do nothing for me.” All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew of the Victory hurraed; and at every hurra a visible expression of joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. But he became impatient to see Hardy; and as that officer, though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared that some tal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried, "Will no one ring Hardy to me? he must be killed! he is surely dead!" An our and ten minutes elapsed from the time Nelson received his wound, before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence: Hardy in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful and yet sublimest moment. "Well, Hardy," said Nelson, "how goes the day with us ?" "Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but five of the van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the Victory. I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing." "I hope," said Nelson, ". 'none of our ships have struck." Hardy answered, "there was no fear of that." Then, and not till then, Nelson spoke of himself. "I am a dead man, Hardy," said he; "I am going fast; it will be all over with me Come nearer to me. Let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair, and all other things belonging to me." Hardy observed, that he hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life.

soon.

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