TOM CRINGLE'S LOG.

The only other midshipman on board the cutter beside yonng Malcolm, whose miserable death we had witnessed, was a slight delicate little fellow, about fourteen years old, of the name of Duncan; he was the smallest boy of his age I ever saw, and had been badly hurt in repelling the attack of the pirate. His wound was a lacerated puncture in the left shoulder from a boarding-pike, but it appeared to be healing kindly, and for some days we thought he was doing well. However, about five o'clock in the afternoon, before we made Jamaica, the surgeon accosted Mr. Douglas as we were walking the deck together. "I fear little Duncan is going to slip through my fingers, Sir."-"No! I thought he had been better." "So he was till about noon, when a twitching of the muscles came on, which I fear betokens lock jaw; he, wavers, too, now and then, a bad sign of itself where there is a fretting wound.” We went below, where, notwithstanding the wind-sail that was let down close to where his hammock was slung, the heat of the small vessel was suffocating. The large coarse tallow candle in the purser's lantern, that hung beside his shoulder, around which the loathsome cockroaches fluttered like moths in a summer evening, filled the between decks with a rancid oily smell, and with smoke as from a torch, while it ran down and melted like fat before a fire. It cast a dull sickly gleam on the pale face of the brown-haired, girlishlooking lad, as he lay in his narrow hammock. When we entered, an old quarter-master was rubbing his legs, which were jerking about like the limbs of a galvanized frog, while two of the boys held his arms, also violently convulsed. The poor little fellow was crying and sobbing most piteously, but made a strong effort to compose himself and "be a man," when he saw us. "This is so good of you, Mr. Cringle! you will take charge of my letter to my sister, I know you will". I say, Anson," to the quarter-master, "do lift me up a little till I try and

Blackwood's Mag.

finish it. It will be a sore heart to poor Sarah; she has no mother now, nor father, and aunt is not over kind," and again he wept bitterly. "Confound this jumping hand, it won't keep steady, all I can do. I say, Doctor, I sha'n't die this time, shall I ?"-" I hope not, my fine little fellow." "I don't think I shall; I shall live to be a man yet, in spite of that bloody buccaneer's pike, I know I shall.” God help me, the death-rattle was already in his throat, and the flame was flickering in the socket; even as he spoke, the muscles of his neck stiffened to such a degree that I thought he was choked, but the violence of the convulsion quickly subsided. "I am done for, Doctor!" he could no longer open his mouth, but spoke through his clenched teeth-" I feel it now! God Almighty receive my soul, and protect my poor sister!" The arch-enemy was, indeed, advancing to the final struggle, for he now gave a sudden and sharp cry, and stretched out his legs and arms, which instantly became as rigid as marble, and in his agony he turned his face to the side I stood on, but he was no longer sensible. "Sister," he said with difficulty-" Don't let them throw me overboard; there are sharks here." "Land on the lee-bow," sung out the man at the mast-head. The common life sound would not have moved any of us in the routine of duty, but bursting in, under such circumstances, it made us all start, as if it had been something unusual; the dying midshipman heard it, and said, calmly, "Land

I will never see it. But how blue all your lips look. It is cold, piercing cold, and dark, dark.” Something seemed to rise in his throat, his features sharpened still more, and he tried to gasp, but his clenched teeth prevented him-he was gone.

I went on deck with a heavy heart, and, on looking in the direction indicated, I beheld the towering Blue Mountain peak rising high above the horizon, even at the distance of fifty miles, with its outline clear and distinct against the splendid western sky, now gloriously illumined by the light of the set sun. We stood on under

easy sail for the night, and next morning, when the day broke, we were off the east end of the magnificent Island of Jamaica. The stupendous peak now appeared to rise close aboard of us, with a large solitary star sparkling on his forehead, and reared his forestcrowned summit high into the cold blue sky, impending over us in frowning magnificence, while the long dark range of the Blue Mountains, with their outlines hard and clear in the grey light, sloped away on each side of him as if they had been the Giant's shoulders. Great masses of white mist hung on their sides about half way down, but all the valleys and coast as yet slept in the darkness. We could see that the land-wind was blowing strong in shore, from the darker colour of the water, and the speed with which the coasters, only distinguishable by their white sails, slid along; while astern of us, out at sea, yet within a cable's length, for we had only shot beyond its influence, the prevailing trade-wind blew a smart breeze, coming up strong to a defined line, beyond which and between it, and the influence of the land-wind, there was a belt of dull lead-coloured sea, about half-a-mile broad, with a long heavy ground-swell rolling, but smooth as glass, and without even a ripple on the surface, in the midst of which we lay dead becalmed.

The heavy dew was shaken in large drops out of the wet flapping sails, against which the reef points pattered like hail as the vessel rolled. The decks were wet and slippery, and our jackets saturated with moisture; but we enjoyed the luxury of cold to a degree that made the sea-water when dashed upon the decks, as they were being holystoned, appear absolutely warm. Presently all nature awoke in its freshness so suddenly, that it looked like a change of scene in a theatre. The sun, as yet set to us, rose to the huge peak, glanced like lightning on his summit, making it gleam like an amethyst. The clouds on his shaggy ribs rolled upwards, and enveloped his head and shoulders, and were replaced by the thin blue mists which ascended from the valleys, forming a fleecy canopy, beneath which appeared hill and dale, woods and cultivated lands, where all had been undistinguishable a minute before, and gushing streams burst from the mountain sides like gouts of froth, marking their course in the level grounds by the vapours they sent up. Then Breere mill-towers, burst into

light, and cattle mills, with their coneshaped roofs, and overseers' houses, and water-mills, with the white spray falling from the wheels, and sugar. works, with long pennants of white smoke, streaming from the boiling-house chimneys in the morning wind. Immediately after, gangs of negroes were seen at work; loaded waggons, with enormous teams of fourteen to twenty oxen dragging them, rolled along the roads; long strings of mules, loaded with canes, were threading the fields; dragging vessels were seen to shove out from every cove; the morning song of the black fishermen was heard, while their tiny canoes, like black specks, started up suddenly on all sides of us, as if they had floated from the bottom of the sea; and the smiling scene burst at once, and as if by magic, on us, in all its coolness and beauty, under the cheering influence of the rapidly rising sun. We fired a gun, and made the signal for a pilot; upon which a canoe, with three negroes in it, shoved off from a small schooner lying-to about a mile to leeward. They were soon alongside, when one of the three jumped on board. This was the pilot, a slave, as I knew, and, in my innocence, I expected to see something very squalid and miserable, but there was nothing of the kind; for I never in my life saw a more spruce salt water dandy, in a small way. He was well dressed, according to a seaman's notion-clean white trowsers, check shirt, with white lapels, neatly fastened at the throat with a black ribbon, smart straw hat; and, altogether, he carried an appearance of comfort-I was going to write independence-about him, that I was by no means prepared for. He moved about with a swaggering roll, grinning and laughing with the seamen. Blackie," said Mr. Douglas. Lodge, Massa, if you please, Massa; Blackie is not politeful, Sir," whereupon he shewed his white teeth again.

66

"I say, "John

Well, well, John Lodge, you are running us too close surely;" and the remark seemed seasonable enough to a stranger, for the rocks on the bold shore were now within half pistol-shot."Mind your eye," shouted old Anson,

nant, big ship as him is, close to dat reef, Sir, you might have jump ashore, so you need not frighten for your leetle dish of a hooker; beside, Massa, my character is at take, you know'-then another grin and bow. There was no use in being angry with the poor fellow, so he was allowed to have his own way until he anchored in the evening at Port-Royal. The morning after we arrived, I went ashore with a boat's crew to perform the magnanimous operation of cutting brooms; we pulled ashore for Green Bay, under the guns of the Twelve Apostles-a heavy battery of twelve cannon, where there is a tombstone with an inscription, settingforth that the party over whom it was erected, had been actually swallowed up in the great earthquake that destroyed the opposite town, but subsequently disgorged again; being, perchance, an unseemly morsel.

To be concluded in our next.

BREVITIES.

Public men cannot always go direct to their object, as the crow flies. It is but fair to make allowances for the thick medium in which they act, and the courtly windings they are often compelled to follow.

A wise and benevolent man may reasonably wish for children, if able to maintain them; but perhaps he is neither very wise nor very benevolent if he suffers his deprivation to make him unhappy. What is it we admire or find interesting in children? Their beauty, innocence, helplessness, cheerfulness, simplicity; but he is a selfish sot who cannot appreciate those qualities in the offspring of others as well as in his own; and who, having the power, wants the inclination to cherish and attract them to him. "Former," latter," and "namely," are three verbal dowdies-the antigraces of diction, who still, by prescriptive right, are sometimes found in good society.

We feel astonished that torture should ever have been used by rational beings, as the means of getting at truth: but, no doubt, when it was abolished, many admirers of the good old times thought the innovation exceedingly dangerous. In like manner our posterity will scarcely believe that persons were allowed to vote away the public money, as representatives of the people, who literally had no consti

tuents at all, and purchased their seats in Parliament as regularly as their chairs for domestic purposes.

The anger of a generous man is effectually disarmed by a little gentleness on the part of its object-as a bread and milk poultice is sufficient to allay a casual inflammation in a healthy frame.

ON THE GENUIS OF POPE. For the Olio.

facunde nepos Atlantis, Qui feros cultus hominum recentum Voce formasti catus,-HOR.

THE writings of Pope are so generally known and justly appreciated, that any attempt to deprecate the talents of that illustrious bard would now be considered futile; the age which has succeeded him has been remarkable for the great and varied talents of the writers of poetry and romance, yet nothing has been produced which has excelled the splendour and melody of his verse. Pope succeeded a host of writers, who were remarkable for their classic lore, and their general ignorance of the beauties of English literature; they selected few subjects which were not classical, and thus the mythology of Greece and Rome was ever associated with what was passing around them; the reigning monarch was addressed as though he were Jupiter Ammon, and the Noblesse received no less a tribute, than that which had been paid to a long line of heathen deities, and every circumstance which transpired, found its representative in some mythological fable, no ambassador repaired to a foreign court in the execution of his office, but he became a Hermes on some heavenborn mission, and the flirtations of Lord A. with Lady B, were as important as the loves of Paris and Helen.

So great has been the veneration for the classic writings in all ages, that the inherent beauties of the English language were for a long time neglected, and although the literary labours of Pope were generally confined to the imitation of other writers, yet he gave to his own language a melody and an expression few thought it capable of; had he not like many of his contemporaries, devoted so much time in the interpretation of writers inferior to himself, he would have been far above all competition, but he appears to have thought with Dryden, that his future