scudded through the night. Providence seemed disposed to favour their struggles; the weather became moderate on the following day; and, what was of still greater importance, the wind (any considerable shift in which would have been fatal) continued to hang in the north-west quarter; for their only hope was to reach the Portuguese Western Islands, which they estimated as lying about 260 leagues to the south-east of the ship at the time they quitted her. On the 5th morning they made the doleful discovery that the salt water had spoiled almost the whole of their bread. From this time they were reduced to the necessity of the whole company living upon the miserable pittance of two biscuits for twenty-four hours; one being divided and distributed without favour or respect of persons, in twelve equal portions, at each of their sorrowful meals. The want of water was still more distressing; the neck of a bottle, broken off with the cork in it, being the measure allotted to the support of each individual during the twenty-four hours.

A most fortunate accident, and which could only have originated from perturbation and disorder of mind during the confusion which prevailed in the ship, afforded the happy means which could alone have preserved them from perishing for want of water. A pair of sheets were found in the boat, which somebody had thrown in without observation; and some rain coming on, they were enabled, by alternately spreading and wringing them, to catch and to save a few quarts of water. But this supply, happy as it was, could not prevent their being extremely enfeebled through the want of food; nor was the quantity of water taken sufficient to prevent their being again reduced to the greatest distress for that article, The captain, rightly judging how gloom and despair were to the animal faculties, successfully endeavoured to divert the attention of the people from their situation and distresses, by inducing them, during the heavy and pensive hours of the evenings, to amuse each other, by every one felating a story, or singing a song in turn; which was, undoubtedly, an admirable expedient in such circumstances.

On the 15th day after their departure from the ship, they had a melancholy instance that good spirits were of much more avail in withstanding difficulty and distress, than great bodily strength; for the quarter-master, who was by much the stoutest man in the boat, was the only one who sunk under the extremes of cold and hunger. They were on that evening reduced to the last day's bread, and to one bottle of water; and though they were in continual expectation of seeing land, yet despondency became so prevalent, that all Captain Inglefield's endeavours could not procure a story or a song.

On the 16th day, after distributing the last biscuit and water, they had the unspeakable pleasure of descrying land; and after some still intervening difficulties, their miseries were on that night brought to a conclusion, by their happy arrival in the harbour of Fayal.

Such was the fate of the Centaur! Nor was that of the others less deplorable; although the circumstances of their distress can never be so perfectly known. The Ville de Paris, commanded by Captain Wilkinson, with Le Glorieux of 74 guns, Captain Cadogan, were both equally destined to become victims to the rage of this merciless hurricane. They did not appear on the following day (particularly the Ville de Paris) to be in anything near so bad a state as the Centaur had been observed to be in at the same time. They were afterwards fallen in with at different times, within a few of the first days, by some of the scattered vessels of the fleet; and it augured but badly with regard to their being able to withstand the bad weather and deep sea which still continued, that every later account of their condition described it as being much

worse than the preceding had done. As they were, however, steering for the Western Islands, a course in which the weather was likely to become every day more favourable, and the distance being likewise moderate, no great apprehension was for a long time entertained as to their safety.

No intelligence being received of them, the anxiety and suspense at length became painful; and hope itself was nearly if not entirely exhausted, when a certainty of their unhappy fate was obtained, through one of those extraordinary accidents of fortune to which a sea-faring life is so peculiarly liable. A Danish merchant ship returning from the West Indies took up the man who was floating on a piece of wreck, and who seems to have been insensible when he was taken on board, as well as incapable of motion for some time after; he continued so infirm, that the Dane, putting in at Havre de Grace, sent him to the hospital, where he was treated with great humanity; and the circumstances of his story being, on his recovery, communicated to the king, he was transmitted in a Russian ship to the English admiralty. This man, whose name was Wilson, had been a seaman in the Ville de Paris, and said, that when she was going to pieces, he had clung to a piece of the wreck; but he had been so overcome by terror, that he could remember nothing farther, and was in a state of total insensibility during the greatest part of the time that he lay in the water. He, however, perfectly recollected that the Glorieux had foundered, and that he had seen her go down, on the day preceding that on which the Ville de Paris perished. Such was the singular fortune of this man, who, appearing to be deficient both of the exertion and courage so peculiar to seamen, yet was destined, unconsciously, to escape that destruction, which swallowed up two noble ships, with their brave and numerous companies.

The fate of Le Hector, of 74 guns, Captain Bourchier, though not attended with such entire destruction, was yet more tediously and grievously calamitous than that of either of the preceding. This ship had left Jamaica in much worse condition, in every respect, than any other of the squadron. Besides the defects and bad state of the ship, and having, on that account, only 52 guns mounted, she was scarcely more than a third part manned, and was encumbered with a number of French and American prisoners; nor could some of our own invalids, who were returning home in her, be considered as much otherwise than an incumbrance under circumstances of distress.

In this wretched state, it was the fortune of the Hector to fall in with the Eagle and La Gloire, two of the largest and finest frigates in the French service, on the night of the 5th of September. These frigates were fresh from France, mounted above 40 guns each, had about 600 seamen between them, and, besides being well commanded, manned, and appointed, had on board several of the most distinguished land officers, with some hundreds of the best troops in France, which they were conveying to the Chesapeake.

The frigates soon perceiving, by her manner of working, the weak state of the Hector, bore down upon, and furiously attacked her, one upon her beam, and the other upon her quarter; and being still encouraged by the slackness of her fire, and by the opportunity which the slowness of her movements afforded of continually raking her, they continued the action closely and with great vigour, between three and four hours. The loss and damage sustained by the Hector during this time was prodigious. Her originally weak crew had been greatly reduced by sickness; 46 of the remainder were already killed or disabled; and the noblest exertions, both of men and officers, seemed insufficient to supply the defect of strength and number, under the rapid decrease of both which was continually taking place. Captain Bourchier was desperately

wounded; but Captain Drury, of the navy, who was a passenger on board, bravely supplied his place, and fought the ship with no less intrepidity. He was most gallantly supported to the last, by all the officers without exception, who animated the crew in such a degree as rendered them in a great measure insensible to their weakness. The frigates, confiding in the number of their men, and in the bravery of their land officers and troops, who were eager to signalize themselves in so new a scene of action, attempted to board the Hector; but failing in this attempt, (which could not otherwise but have been decisive in the event) and finding the resistance still to continue, far beyond what they could have expected, they, to the astonishment of the English, (who could scarcely hope to hold out much longer) abandoned their enterprize; and in full day-light, when they must have had a perfect view of the wretched condition of the Hector, they thought proper to sheer off.

In the account of this action, published at Paris, it was pretended that the appearance of several ships in the morning, which were supposed to be an English squadron, had obliged the frigates to relinquish their enterprize, and make the best of their way to escape the supposed danger. But, to the unspeakable misfortune and calamity of the Hector, no ships whatever, of any nation, came in sight; for pirates or Algerines would have been soon deemed good company by her, and their meeting most joyfully hailed. It would have been, indeed, the greatest happiness to the officers and company of that unfortunate ship that she had been then taken by the enemy; and was surely a most grievous as well as singular circumstance, that their courage and constancy in her defence should have operated upon them in its effects as the highest punishment, and subjected them to indescribable calamities.

The ship had suffered exceedingly, and in every part, in the engagement; masts, sails, and rigging were nearly ruined, and the hull itself deeply wounded. Bad weather came on. Topmast followed topmast, and the masts followed the tops; until at length the hull was entirely stripped; rudder, and all, gone. Leaks opened in every part; and the least sail was drawn under the bottom, with fothering, in the hope of stopping, or of lessening the effect there. The hold filled with sea-water, which soon spoiled the fresh, and the provisions. The men died apace; and a small quantity of spirits were nearly exhausted, which had for several days kept the remainder from perishing. The officers, with sword and pistol, kept them still to the pumps, where numbers dropped dead at the work. The decks were sinking fast; and some of the beams of the orlop deck had fallen into the hold.

In this last stage of the most deplorable distress, when the men, having been four days without water or spirits, were quite exhausted; when hope itself failed; and the only alleviation of the present misery seemed to be the shortness of the period to which it was of necessity limited; a sail was descried on the 3rd of October, and to confirm the blessing, was bearing down directly on them. This proved to be the Hawkesnow, a letter of marque, bound from Lisbon to St. John's in Newfoundland, and commanded by Captain John Hill, of Dartmouth; a man whose name should long be remembered, and ever marked with distinction. This humane and generous commander, without regarding the great risk to which he was exposing himself, his people, and his vessel, leaving the future event to Providence, applied himself only to the immediate consideration of discharging, in the amplest and kindest manner, the duties of humanity. He accordingly lay by them during the night, and in the morning took on board Captain Bourchier, with the remainder of the perishing company of the Hector; who, still amounting to or exceeding 200 in

number, crowded his small vessel so much, that he was obliged to throw a considerable part of the cargo overboard to make room for them. To place the merit of Captain Hill's conduct in its proper light, it is necessary to take notice, that although they had a fair and full wind to St. John's, yet the last cask of water had been broached on the day they discovered land; so that a common shift of bad weather would have involved the deliverers and delivered in a fate no less deplorable than that from which the latter had, in the first instance, been so generously extricated.

Such was the hard fortune to which the fleet from Jamaica was doomed. Of the seven ships of the line which composed the squadron, the Canada and Le Caton only escaped. The Ramilies, Ville de Paris, Centaur, Le Glorieux, and Hector all perished.

THE SCULPTOR AND THE INQUISITION.

Of Alonso Cano, the Michael Angelo of Spain, Mr. Cumberland relates an event which involved him in much trouble and persecution. Returning home one evening, he discovered his wife murdered, his house robbed, and an Italian journeyman, on whom the suspicion naturally fell, escaped, and not to be found. The criminal judges held a court of inquiry upon the fact, and having discovered that Alonso Cano had been jealous of this Italian, and also that he was known to be attached to another woman, they acquitted the fugitive gallant, and, with a sagacity truly in character, condemned the husband No choice was now left to Cano but to fly, and abandon Madrid in the midst of his prosperity. He caused it to be reported that he was gone to Portugal, and took refuge in the city of Valentia. Necessity soon compelled him to have recourse to his art, and his art immediately betrayed him. In this exigency he betook himself to the asylum of a Carthusian convent at Porta Coli, about three leagues from Valecia. Here he seemed for a time determined upon taking the order, but either the austerities of that habit, or some hopes of returning with impunity to a course of life more to his taste than a convent, put him by from his design, and he was even rash enough to return to Madrid, thinking to conceal himself in the house of his father Don Rafael Sanguineto. He made several paintings here as well as with the Carthusians, and not being of a temper to maintain any lasting restraint over himself, he neglected to keep house with Don Rafael, and was apprehended in the streets, and directions were given for putting him to the torture. Cano defended himself by the plea of "excellens arte," and he obtained so much mitigation as to have his right arm exempted from the ligature. He suffered the rack, and had the resolution under his tortures not to criminate himself by any confession, not uttering a single word.

This circumstance being related to Philip, King of Spain, he received him. again into favour, and as Cano saw there was no absolute safety but within the pale of the church, he solicited the king with that view, and was named Residentiary of Grenada.

The chapter objected to his nomination, and deputed two of their body to represent to Philip against the person of Cano, enumerating many disqualifications, and, among the rest, want of learning. The king dismissed the deputies, bidding them proceed to admit his nomination, and telling them, that if Cano had been a man of learning, he should perhaps have made him their bishop and not a residentiary." Priests like you," said Philip, " I the king

can make at pleasure, but God alone can create an Alonso Cano;" using the same retort to these complainants, as Charles V. did to his courtiers in the case of Titiano.

The church of Grenada profited by his appointment, many sculptures and paintings being of his donation, and some he also bestowed upon the church of Malaga. A counsellor of Grenada having refused to pay the sum of one hundred pistolas for an image of San Antonio de Padua which Cano had made for him, he dashed the saint into pieces on the pavement of his academy, whilst the stupid counsellor was reckoning up how many pistoles per day Cano had earned whilst the work was in hand. "You have been five-and-twenty days carving this image of San Antonio," said the niggardly arithmetician, "and the purchase-money demanded being one hundred, you have rated your labour at the exorbitant price of four pistoles per day; whilst I, who am a counsellor and your superior, do not make half your money by my talents." "Wretch,” cried the enraged artist, "to talk to me of your talents-I have been fifty years learning to make this statue in five-and-twenty days," and so saying, he flung it with the utmost violence upon the pavement. The affrighted counsellor escaped out of the house with the utmost precipitation, concluding that the man who was bold enough to demolish a saint, would have very little remorse in destroying a lawyer. Happy for Cano, the story did not reach the ears of the Inquisition, else he would have had a second rehearsal of his former tortures, and the doom of Torrigiano; but he escaped with no other punishment than a suspension from his function by the Chapter of Granada, to which, however, he was restored by the king, but not until he had finished a magnificent crucifix, which the queen had commissioned him to carve, and which he had long neglected to perform. This passed in the year 1658. From this period to his death he led an exemplary life of great charity and devotion. When he had no money to bestow in alms, which was frequently the case, he would call for paper, and give a beggar a drawing, directing him where to carry it for sale; but to Jews he bore such antipathy, that he considered every touch of theirs as a contamination, and in such cases would give away his clothes, forbidding, however, his servants, on whom he bestowed them, on any account to wear what he had cast off. On his death-bed he would not receive the sacraments from a priest who attended him, because he had given them to the converted Jews; and, from another he would not accept the crucifix presented to him in his last moments, telling him it was so bungling a piece of work, that he could not endure the sight of it. In this manner died Alonzo Cano, at the age of 76, in the year 1676; a circumstance which shows that his ruling passion for the arts accompanied him in the article of death, superseding even religion itself in those moments when the great interests of salvation naturally must be supposed to occupy the mind to the exclusion of every other idea.

Had it not been that the persecution of his judges deprived Cano of that tranquillity which is so necessary to the very existence of the fine arts, I am inclined to think his talents would have produced a display superior to any Spain has given birth to.

How it happened that he avoided the Inquisition when he broke Saint Anthony in pieces, is matter of surprise; nor is it less to be wondered at that he escaped self-crimination on the rack. In that situation there is no defence but in absolute silence; like the Divine Author of our religion, to be dumb before our accusers, is in that case the only part which innocence can take. If it be true that the Inquisition had its origin in the Crusades, it is the legiti