THE following letter, received soon after we issued the prospectus of this work, will inform our readers of the means, by which we have been enabled to compile for them the accounts contained in the following papers. We beg to assure them, at the same time, that we know the writer of the letter intimately, and that we have every reason to believe the incidents to have been the actual occurrences in the life of Mr. R. Perhaps after all they are of no moment, but we think they may be interesting to readers in our maritime country. We will only add that we have, agreeably to the permission which was given us, freely altered the style, which was somewhat antiquated; but that we have neither added to, nor subtracted from, the matter contained in the original manuscript.

To the Editor of the American Monthly Magazine.

ED.

DEAR SIR,-With this you will receive a small parcel of papers, which have fallen somewhat unexpectedly into my hands. I am quite incompetent to decide on their merits, for I do not pretend to any great literary taste; however, if you think that either as they are, or dressed up in better shape, they might be likely to please the public, they are at your service. All I request is, that in your alterations, if any, you will not distort the facts themselves, as they are assuredly genuine and authentic.

You will have no difficulty, I am persuaded, in bringing the writer of the articles now sent, to your recollection, when I state to you the way they have reached me. Briefly, then, in the course of my duties as executor to your old friend, my uncle, H., I was examining a large trunk of old papers, some containing memoranda of observations, for which he was always so remarkable; some were embryo systems of political economy,-not a few were scraps of poetry,-here and there were documents of a more worldly nature,—and, carefully tied up with red tape, and labelled on the outside sheet, "Recollections of the Nautical Life of P. R.," was the parcel which I have now committed to your charge. You will of course recollect the name of Mr. R. who died, I believe, some time before you became acquainted with my uncle, but of whom the good old gentleman used to speak with such warmth of affection. I understood that they were formerly school-fellows; and notwithstanding their tempers and habits were extremely different, yet they were always on terms of close and intimate friendship. R. was the elder by some two or three years, and, as I have been informed, was of a lively, sanguine disposition ;-from his very childhood a seeker of adventures, to which he was the more inclined to give way, as he was robust, hardy, and strong, whilst my uncle, on the contrary, was a boy of tender constitution, and thought to be consumptive; his parents, indeed, hardly had the hope to rear him, and perhaps it was his very helplessness that made the daring R. his protector, and caused the two to be so endeared to each other. Yet so little are we able to judge of the stability of the human frame, that my uncle, according to the old adage of "a creaking gate," lived to the great age of ninety-four, whilst his quondam protector and friend, quitted his earthly stage twentyfive years before him. The memory of Mr. R. has always been "hallowed" in the family of his surviving friend, and I suspect, from other memoranda which are scattered up and down among the writings of the latter, that he

had the purpose at some time or other, to collect them together and give them to the world.

I leave them now to your discretion, for, as I said before, I have no pretensions of a literary kind, and besides have business to attend to, of another description. In fact, it is rather from the opinion I entertained of my deceased relative's discrimination, and the affection and admiration which I knew him to feel for the writer of the "Recollections," that I step so far out of my ordinary track, as to meddle with editors and book-making. I therefore, in the first place, beg that you will not plague me with farther questions about him, and likewise that you will not bring my name before the public, but allow me to remain under the designation of

RECOLLECTIONS OF A NAUTICAL LIFE.

J. H.

No. I.

They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters, these see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.

Ps. cvii. v. 22, 23.

there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein. Ps. civ. v. 26. Do you remember, my dear H., when a short time ago I was exercising the traveller's privilege of detailing "hair breadth scapes," and wondrous adventures "by flood and field," in which it had been my fortune to be engaged, that you expressed considerable surprise, that I could still feel pleasure in the idea of a sea life? Do you remember remarking that if it had been your lot to encounter so discouraging a debut in nautical adventures, you think you could have shrunk into the merest hovel, and followed the lowest of occupations, rather than have continued in so dangerous, so laborious, so unsettled a course of life? I recollect that I only smiled at your remark at the time,-being too eagerly engaged in the relation that then was on the tapis, but I have thought much about it since.

That such surprise would be the feeling of ninety-nine out of every hundred, I am not prepared to dispute ;-but that you who have been a close observer of human nature, and who have seldom been wrong in your judgment, should arrive at such a conclusion, I own surprises me. You must be aware, that it is not the danger, the wild enterprise, or the continued change, that deters the human mind from the adoption of any particular course of life, but an effect the very contrary, is often produced by those circumstances. As well might you wonder that the chamois hunter of Switzerland, is not deterred from continuing the chase, which we find to constitute the principal pleasure of his life, because his adventures are so terrific, and his safety so precarious. It is the excitement which gives the charm, that no sense of danger or of difficulty can allay. The spirit of enterprise is natural to man,—and it is you, not I who form an exception to the general principle. You, whose habits of quiet and intense study have been formed in infancy, bred up in the midst of sages and philosophers, and fostered by the delicate frame, and its concomitant, a timid disposition, which have prescribed and ruled your after pursuits. Whereas, I, as you well know, was a bold, strong, audacious boy, ever ready for play, or even for mischief, rather than for sedentary occupation;-with vigorous health, active limbs, and sanguine disposition, none but a power to which I must be subservient, could prevent me, even in early youth, from dashing into

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the height of extravagant project and wild adventure. In this, I am persuaded, I have only been like all other lads of a similar temperament, when opportunity has been given for the gratification of strong desires. In short, I have met with too many like myself, to doubt it.

Shall I be thought to indulge in a garrulous spirit, if I attempt now to give you a few reminiscences of the feelings which urged me in youth to my first great step in life, and accompany them with accounts of the little adventures in which I was engaged;-or will you receive them as an additional page in the book of the human heart, which you have so long and so faithfully studied? Conscience whispers that there is a little of the former, and vanity consoles me with the idea that I may impart a portion of the latter. Moreover my garden is well planted, and I have finished the walks and the grass-plot ;-I have literally nothing to do, and my heart tells me, that all I write you will read with patience, if not with pleasure.-So here goes.

For regularity's sake, I may begin by saying, that my father was from the old country. He was what is there termed a yeoman, which means one who cultivates a landed property of his own ;-he had received an excellent education in England, and had a strong turn for agriculture, which he exercised upon a large farm that he possessed in one of the northern counties. My mother I never knew, for she died in giving birth to me. This, the first and greatest misfortune that ever befel him, altogether unsettled his quiet. Every thing looked desolate about him, and he resolved to sell his property there, and engage his attention in cultivating new soil in America. In vain his only brother, who had settled as a merchant in Hull, attempted to dissuade him;-being a resolute man, and having his mind made up, he speedily settled his affairs, and embarked with me and a nurse, at Liverpool for Boston, where we arrived in the year 17—.

My father was not long in concluding the purchase of a large lot of ground, upon which he determined to spend his capital freely, and to cultivate with all the skill he possessed. In this he was instigated by two motives; one was, to subdue by active and useful employment, the depression he experienced in every moment of leisure, upon the remembrance of my mother, for whom he had felt the tenderest affection; and the other was to exhibit his very uncommon information in agricultural matters, and to encourage a similar exertion among the settlers of the surrounding country. I need not tell you how he succeeded in this latter case; you know the district well, and you are also aware, that to him, in a very great measure, may be ascribed the very superior cultivation which that district presents.

In my childhood and youth I was very like my mother, which endeared me much in my father's affection. But besides the goodness of his education, he had also a strong understanding and great firmness of mind; he therefore, while loving me with the most paternal affection, was carefully on his guard that it should not manifest itself in injudicious indulgence; and while he bestowed upon me all the tender care, which as the only pledge that a beloved wife had left him, was showered upon me with an unsparing hand and an overflowing heart, he had especial solicitude to make me healthy by exercise, robust by endurance, and industrious by habit. My constitution was vigorous from my birth; my ideas were always cheerful, from being continually furnished with employment; my heart was always light, because my home was a happy abode to me; and, young as I was, I

felt towards my father as towards a kind and indulgent friend. Can it be wondered then, that my spirits were always exuberant, often audacious?

When I was old enough to be sent to school, I was fixed at the academy where I afterwards became acquainted with you, my respected friend. My father, before he placed me there, had made the most minute inquiries as to its character, and that of our old principal M-; and having once satisfied himself on those points, he resolved never to distract my attention by change of scenes, or places; so that I gradually became the oldest scholar, and a person of no small importance. How well do I remember my dear H. your little spare, delicate figure, pale face, and hectic flush, as old M. brought you into the play ground, and entrusted you to my protection; your blue eyes turned up towards me, and then surveying my dimensions at the word "protect," as if to judge of my capability for so great a charge. But why need I dwell on this, or on the following six years. I dare say you will no more forget my unlucky pranks, my battles, and my bruises out of school, and my floggings within, than I shall lose the recollection of your mild and gentle disposition, your persevering industry, the rectitude of your principles, and the discrimination of your understanding. Let me rather keep to the matter in hand-the origin of my nautical inclinations. You must have well known the copy of Hakluyt's Voyages, which our old master had in his library, plentifully adorned with cuts. Over those cuts I used to pore whenever I could get hold of the book; from them I turned to the work, to explain to me any thing which I could not understand in the pictures, and by degrees I found myself over head and ears in voyages, adventures, difficulties, discoveries, and acquisitions; in short I imbibed the most intense and vehement desire for a nautical life. I became a castle-builder, and all my day dreams, to say nothing of those by night, ran upon scenes connected with a sailor's life. I may say, that it raged like a fire within me, and even you, who knew my inmost soul, and could better than any one else sway my wayward fancies, even your remonstrances and affectionate dissuasives failed to weaken my purpose. The death of my excellent and lamented parent, at the very time that I had made up my mind to address him upon the subject, at first stunned me, and I was overwhelmed with grief. The sorrows of youth however are easily assuaged; my master passion overruled every other feeling, and after the first burst I began to think of the increased probability of executing my heartfelt wish. A few months brought over my uncle, now become my sole guardian and protector; and here can I forget the real anguish I experienced at the thought of parting from my quiet and attached friend and protegé. Not the prospect of visiting the splendid mother country of which I had formed so magnificent an idea; not the anticipated pleasure of crossing the sea, my favorite element; not even the increased hope of attaining the profession for which my soul longed, could console me for the loss of my peaceful and gentle friend, who had so frequently soothed me in my moments of irritation, advised me when the head was not following the dictates of the heart, and assisted me in every difficulty, whether scholastic or personal. The hours that we remained together seemed too short for us. We promised to each other perpetual and unalterable friendship. You implored me to deliberate before I determined upon a course which seemed to you so dreadful, and so peculiarly replete with dangers to a fool-hardy lad; and my anxiety for you was, lest VOL. I.

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your weak spirit should be oppressed when I should no longer be near to fight your battles. Part, however, we must. My uncle, who had lost no time in settling our affairs, sold all the property my father had possessed, and turned it into merchandise, with which he freighted the vessel that was to take us to England, and amidst sighs and tears, protestations and hopes, I left you and the shores of America for many a year.

And now I come to the disaster which attended my very first experience of a sailor's life. We departed from Boston, as you may recollect, about the middle of August, a delightful period in the present times; but at the time of my return to England, a voyage across the Atlantic was both more tedious and more formidable. We did not near the European shores till the latter end of September, and unfortunately were overtaken by a tremendous gale from the westward, just as we made the northern coast of Ireland. At first the master stood out to sea again, as not daring to get too near a leeshore in so strong a gale; but the weather moderating, he put in again. Our destination was Whitehaven, but hardly had we rounded the Malin head, which is the northernmost point of the island, ere it came on again from the north-west with redoubled violence. Full well do I recollect the visages of the honest master, and my poor uncle. Insurances were not so frequently effected in those days as they are at present; in our case there was not a dollar secured upon either ship or cargo. She was deep laden, and laboured heavily so that the master durst not carry canvas, on her to his wish, and all he could hope was that the wind might not come round to the southward, and prevent his getting into his port. In this the worthy man was doomed to be disappointed-miserably and fatally disappointed. The gale had subsided considerably, and there was a lull, though with a heavy swell, indicative in most cases that the storm was over; we had been hove to, during the worst, but more canvas was put upon her, and we proceeded. It was night, and the vessel was slipping through the water at a moderate rate, but rolling dreadfully; suddenly she was laid on her beam ends on the starboard side; a tremendous crash ensued, and she rose heavily up again, amidst the cries and dismay of the people upon her decks, mingled with the whistling of the wind which now blew tempestuously from the south. She had been taken aback by a sudden and violent gust, and now presented a dreadful wreck; her three topmasts had been snapped close by the caps, and now dangled by the rigging, as she rolled in the trough of a green and white sea, threatening death or mutilation to any one who should be so hardy as to approach, to clear them away.

I was among the first of the passengers on deck at this tremendous crisis; the night was fearfully dark, except at moments when the white curl on the tops of the waves were made awfully manifest; and the apparent gloom was increased by the flickering lights of lanterns, which appeared to flit about of their own volition from place to place. The howling of the wind, and the whistling sound as it passed between the parts of the rigging, the gruff hailings of the officers and seamen in the performance of their arduous duties, mingled with the blast, and the whole presented a scene which would have appalled many a soul. Yet, will you believe it, H.? Yes you will believe it, that though I felt confused at first, I had not the slightest sensation of fear on the occasion. On the contrary, as soon as I had so far recovered from my first surprise as to ascertain the nature of the misfortune, I went