up to the master and asked him if I could render any service. His first reply was a short and angry "no," and "get out of the people's way :" but the kind hearted old man immediately checked himself, turned round and patted my head, saying, "yes my good boy, go and relieve Bob at the lee wheel, and that will give us a hand more useful than yours, about the deck." I complied with alacrity, more pleased at the idea of being an useful member of the ship, than apprehensive of any consequences that might ensue from the present misfortune. The gale continued to blow with the utmost violence, and little could be done towards clearing away the wreck until day light should enable them to see their way; in the meanwhile, though the vessel was laid to as well as we were able, yet having no way through the water, and with a strong wind and tide setting towards the north, we were driven to the leeward of Carrickfergus, into which port it had been intended to run her. In the course of the day much was done in getting rid of the topmasts and rigging, though they were obliged to be cut away on account of the violence of the gale, and the dreadful pitching and rolling of the vessel. The foresail close reefed was then set, and she was put before the wind, with the intent to get into the Clyde. This was wrong, and it proved the greatest misfortune. The wind again veered more towards the west, and a tremendous sea striking our larboard quarter carried away the rudder. The shock threw the helmsman over the wheel, who in his descent knocked me over; and now for the first time I became sensible of the real danger of our situation. We were now adrift upon a raging sea, at the entire mercy of the winds and waves, the men exhausted by the length and extremity of their previous labors, the ship leaky with straining, incapable of guidance, and we without the power to set about any temporary expedient. Death was around us, on all sides, except the solitary and forlorn hope that we might drive into smoother water. Vain hope-her fate was decided! For fear of the worst, it now became necessary to get the boats out; and this, in the state of the weather, of the ship, and of the people, was a most difficult task; we were little better than a log on the water, sometimes before the wind, sometimes broached to, the sea driving in complete sheets over the decks, and the footing hardly possible even to seamen. The operation was however accomplished, without the loss of any but the jolly boat, which had been washed away from the stern when we lost the rudder. And now hopes and fears were swallowed up in horrible certainty, as we perceived the vessel nearing gradually, but too surely the Craig of Ailsa, a large circular mass of rock against which the waves were dashing, and driving the foam many fathoms above its summit. The master ordered every one to get into the boats and endeavor to make towards the northeast. All obeyed the injunctions,-my poor uncle, sinking under the consciousness that his orphan nephew's all was fast approaching to destruction under his guardianship, and that even the life itself of all around was held but by a frail tenure. My feelings were like those of a person in a dream; I seemed to be sensible that all those horrible images were about me, but as if I doubted their reality. We got into the boats however, which were beating frightfully against the vessel's side, when to our consternation as well as sorrow, the old master refused to come in. We begged and entreated, but he calmly declared his determination to share the fate of his vessel, be it what it might. Before further remonstrances could be made, or more forcible steps could be taken to alter his resolution, he suddenly cut the painter of the last boat, waved his hat, fervently cried, "God bless you all"—and, we never saw him more. We followed his instructions in endeavoring to get towards the Airshire coast, but had too soon an opportunity of seeing the poor Mary Jane dash right against the Ailsa Craig, where she went into a thousand pieces. For our own parts, after many hours of hard labor, in which all partook except my uncle, who had sunk into insensibility, we were so fortunate as to get into a small bay to the northward of Kirkoswald. The inhabitants of the neighborhood had for some time seen us, and awaited our landing, where we received the most heartfelt kindness, and every comfort which it was in their power to administer. In due time we proceeded, with heavy hearts indeed, yet still with feelings of gratitude to heaven for our preservation, to my uncle's residence at Hull. Many and deep were the regrets of the good man, that his imaginary sagacity, in turning all my inheritance into valuable merchandise, had been the means of reducing me to beggary. His upright soul long refused to be comforted. The reflection that the only child of the brother he loved should, by his mismanagement and imprudence, as he always termed it, be cast from ease and affluence, upon a world of cares and difficulties, was bitter to his sensible heart. "But no, my poor boy," said he, "it shall not be so. Through me you have lost your little all, and upon me you shall have the right to build another inheritance. You shall enter my counting-house with my own sons, and share with them in whatsoever I may be blessed by Divine Providence." Here was honest, pure, genuine affection, and liberality; without a thought that any thing could be objectionable in such an arrangement, he consoled his benevolent heart with the idea, that though I had lost a parent and a fortune, he could and would be a parent and fortune. Good man! He little imagined that the workings of my soul were of a mixed nature, and that the gratitude which I really felt for his kindness, was checked by my fears that I should not be permitted to follow the sea. Yes, my dear H., that craving passion was as vehement as ever. Not the dangers from which I had just escaped, not the dread of my uncle's displeasure, not the whispered recollection of your affectionate remonstrances at parting, could diminish aught of that insatiable longing after a course of life, of which I had yet seen nothing but disastrous effects. For the present, however, I held my peace, not deeming it either proper or politic to urge a request which was likely to be unpleasant at any time, but peculiarly so now, with all our dangers and misfortunes green in my uncle's recollection. I was now in the "old world" assuredly, but it was a new world to me. The scenes, the habits, the manners, all were strange, all essentially different from the quiet mansion of my father in Massachusetts, and from the noisy uniformity of our school in Boston. But every thing around me, with which I came in collision, "in thought, word or deed," added fuel to the flame that burnt within me. Hull, or more properly, Kingston-uponHull, an important sea-port on the east coast of England, was constantly receiving into her capacious harbors, or sending forth, well freighted vessels of every dimension and class; but her chief commerce was to the ports of the Baltic, or to the White Sea, a few ships to the West Indies, the American Colonies, and the Mediterranean: but her staple article was whale oil, and the strength of her capital was in the Greenland and Davies' Straits Fishery. Every day, my delighted heart and my searching eyes were gratified, by visiting some vessel or other from foreign shores, my situation in my uncle's counting-house even given facilities for the encouragement of that ever craving, never satisfied desire to explore foreign and unknown regions of the earth. Yet I well remember, it was no consideration of wealth or emolument, which caused that all-absorbing feeling. Such a result never crossed my ideas. My romantic soul would have scorned the very notion. But, besides the voyages of old Hakluyt, I had read various others; and Columbus, and his successors from Spain, together with Varso de Gama, Drake, Hudson, and others, haunted my brain. I was continually discovering new lands, taking possession in the name of my country, civilizing the natives, legislating for the community, cultivating the soil,-in short, doing wonders beyond the skill of mortal man. Danger!-what was danger? Every distinguished man had encountered and surmounted danger! And why might not I arrive to as great distinction as any one before me? I had been shipwrecked in my very entry upon the stage of active life, and escaped without harm,-a plain proof that I was not born to be drowned. Thus argued I, or rather, with such sophistry did I, at the age of fifteen, satisfy myself. My eagerness, at length, got the better of my patience. Finding my uncle, one afternoon, in a more than usually cheerful mood, I ventured to unfold my anxious wishes before him. I told him how long and how earnestly I had desired to commence a sea-life,-how I had intended to obtain my dear father's permission, if he had not been so suddenly snatched away from me,-that my inclinations were so strong, that nothing on earth could overcome them,-in short, all my rhetoric was brought to bear in favor of my scheme. My uncle heard me to an end without replying, but when I looked up in his face at the close of my speech, I perceived his brows knit into a most formidable frown, and every feature indicating the deepest displeasure, mixed with sorrow. "Wretched, unhappy boy," said he, "I know too well that your inclinations point to that desperate, that deplorable profession in life. How, indeed, could I, as an indifferent person,-to say nothing of the relation in which I stand towards you,―be ignorant of that which engrosses your whole soul and actions. I have long seen it, but have purposely abstained from noticing, what I hoped you would never have the courage to propose to me, and that it might gradually die away. Presumptuous boy! Have you so soon forgot the signal deliverance which you have experienced, and which ought to be a striking lesson to you in particular, that a sailor's life is not properly yours. It is unnecessary,—it is a tempting of Providence, never speak of it again,-for it shall never have my sanction." With these words he abruptly quitted the room, and left me overwhelmed with mortification and confusion. I saw that my plans were overturned, and my hopes crushed at once. I knew my uncle too well to hope that he would relent, and that like my poor father he was firm of purpose. Still I did not entirely despair; by degrees I wrought myself into the conviction, that it was actually unjust to thwart an inclination so fixed and strong as mine; and thus fortified, and with a longing which opposition increased to a morbid feeling, I determined, at length, to betake myself to sea without his consent. To do this in Hull, however, was not easy. My uncle's connexions were of the most extensive description, and I myself had been thrown in their way, in the course of his business. I had, therefore, little chance of getting into a ship at this port;-but having made up my mind to go, the when and the where were minor considerations. My project was presently made up for a Greenland trip, and I resolved, that to lull the suspicions of my uncle, I would keep close to the desk, not mix with shipping business, save where in the routine of duty I must, and, about the time of the Greenland ships going out, make my escape to Whitby, and endeavor to enter myself on board of the first vessel that should depart. This done, and the thing being irretrievable, I felt assured that my uncle's affection would not allow him to cast me off; but that he would then endeavor to forward me in a line of life, into which I should have become inevitably cast. It is amazing how comfortable one feels, when the details of a grand project are settled, notwithstanding that the plan and all its parts are one-sided. I saw, through the long vista of time, visions of fame and splendor, in which my name would be wafted to every corner of the earth. My uncle and his forebodings I quite forgot, or if I thought of him, it was as one confessing that he had erred in judgment, when he thought of curbing so noble and enterprising a spirit as mine had proved to be. I remained, therefore, very quietly during the winter,-made no inquiries about shipping, and succeeded so far in soothing poor uncle's apprehensions, that he gave me credit for endeavoring to overcome my predilections, and sometimes conferred upon me marks of approbation, for which my heart smote me grievously,― yet still I held fast to my resolution. I had diligently saved all money which my uncle's bounty bestowed upon me, and early on the morning of the 26th February, 17—, with a beating heart, but a fixed will, I set off on foot for Whitby. I carried no luggage, I had no incumbrance to check the activity of my limbs. My purse in my pocket and my stick in my hand, I plodded rapidly along, determined to take no long rest until I should reach that sea-port. I did so, late at night, and very much fatigued; yet still I did not retire to bed at the little inn, till I had inquired which was the first ship for Greenland. I was answered by the landlord, "Oh! Besom Bob got the Circe out of the harbor this afternoon's tide. I dare say he'll clear to-morrow, or next day at farthest, and he's sure to start if there be but a cap-full of wind." "And who is Besom Bob?" replied I,-surprised at the novelty of the name. "Why where the d-l are you from, that don't know Besom Bob? Every body knows him! The boldest fellow, and the luckiest fellow, and the best fellow that ever sailed out of Whitby, I'll be sworn." I changed the conversation, determined to ask no more at present, but resolved to see this "Besom Bob" in the morning. I, therefore, went off to my bed, where I dreamed of nothing but floating ice, and monsters which I called whales. Next morning I paid my bill, and walked away to a slop-seller's store ;bought a jacket and trowsers, which I put on immediately, and promised to fetch my other things away presently. I then went and found "Besom Bob," whose real name and title was Captain Scoles of the Bark "Circe." I offered my services. He looked hard at me for a minute, at length he demanded, "Have you ever been at sea, my lad?" I replied, "only a voyage across the Atlantic." "Oh, ho!" said he "a Yankee;-where were you raised?" I replied, "in Massachusetts, but that my father was dead." "Poor lad," said he, "well let's look at you,-can you go aloft ?" "Yes," replied I, readily and with truth, "any where, in any weather." Hem!ah!-I dare say,-smart boy,—those hands, youngster, never smelt tar." I made no reply. After considering a little, he looked keenly in my face, "Lookee, my lad," said he, "I can see as far into a millstone as the man that trimmed it,-I guess how the wind sits.-But, howsomever, all that's nothing to me, are you willing to work if I take you?" I protested my wish so to do, and he replied, "well, my lad, I do think you will do your best; so come along, and I'll enter your name ;-and it shall go hard, but you shall know what a sea-life is before long, if you don't know it already." I followed him in silence, confounded at his penetration, to his house, signed articles, and received directions to be waiting with my chest and bedding in the afternoon, when he would take me on board. I then went and purchased necessaries, of the nature of which I was well acquainted, through my experience in Hull,-kept my appointment with Captain Scoles,-went on board with him ;-up went the anchor,—and out we sailed with a fine south west breeze for Greenland, to the whale fishery. Captain Scoles, or Besom Bob" as he was popularly called, was a remarkable character; he-but he ought not to come in at the end of a paper. SLEEP AND HOPE. FROM THE HENRIADE OF VOLTAIRE. THE Power from whom the choicest blessings flow, J. H. L. |