shovels like for stirrups." He will tell you how the Chinese drink, and the Negurs' dance, and the monkeys pelt you with cocoa-nuts; and how King Domy would have built him a mud hut, and made him a Peer of the Realm, if he would have stopped with him and taught him to make trowsers."

He has a sister at a school for young ladies,' who blushes with a mixture of pleasure and shame at his appearance; and whose confusion he completes, by slipping four-pence into her hand, and saying out loud that he has "no more copper about him." His mother and elder sisters at home doat on all he says and does, telling him, however, that he is a great seafellow, and was always wild ever since he was a hop-o'-mythumb no higher than the window locker. He tells his mother that she would be a duchess in Parnaboo; at which the good old portly dame laughs and looks proud. When his sisters complain of his romping, he says they are only sorry he is not the baker. He frightens them with a mask made after the New Zealand fashion, and is forgiven for his learning. Their mantle-piece is filled by him with shells and sharks' teeth; and when he goes t sea again, there is no end of tears, and God bless yous, and me-made gingerbread. His officer on shore does much of all this, only, generally speaking, in a higher taste The moment he lands, he buys quantities of jewellery and ther valuables, for all the females of his acquaintance; and taken in for every article. He sends in a cart load of fresh meat to the ship, though he is going to town next day; and, calling in at a chandler's for some candles, is persuaded to buy a dozen of green wax, with which he lights up the ship at evening, regretting that the fine moonlight hinders the effect of the colour. A man, with a bundle beneath his arm, accosts him in an under tone; and, with a look in which respect for his knowledge is mixed with an avowed zeal for his own interest, asks if his honor will just step under the gangway here, and inspect some real India shawls. The gallant lieutenant says to himself, "This fellow knows what's what, by his face;" and so he proves it by being taken in on the spot. When he brings the shawls home, he says to his sister, with an air of triumph,, "There, Poll, there's something for you;-only cost me twelve, and is worth twenty, if it is worth a dollar. She turns pale.--"Twenty what, my dear George? why, you haven't given

twelve dollars for it, I hope?" "Not I, by the lord." "That's lucky; because you see, my dear George, that altogether it is not worth more than fourteen or fifteen shillings." "Fourteen or fifteen-what! why it's real India, en't it ?— why, the fellow told me so; or I'm sure I'd as soon-" here he tries to hide his blushes with a bluster-"I'd as soon have given him twelve douses on the chaps as twelve guineas.""Twelve guineas!" exclaims the sister; and then drawing forth why, my dear George!" is proceeding to show him what the articles would have cost at Condell's, when he interrupts her by requesting her to go and choose for herself a tea-table service. He then makes his escape to some messmates at a coffee-house, and drowns his recollection of the shawls in the best wine, and a discussion on the comparative merits of the English and West Indian beauties and tables.

At the theatre afterwards, where he has never been before, he takes a lady at the back of one of the boxes for a woman of quality; and when, after returning his long respectful gaze with a smile, she turns aside and puts her handkerchief to her mouth, he thinks it is in derision, till his friend undeceives him. He is introduced to the lady; and, ever afterwards, at first sight of a woman of quality (without any disparagement either to those charming personages,) expects her to give him a smile. He thinks the other ladies much better creatures than they are taken for; and for their parts, they tell him, that if all men were like himself, they would trust the men again-which, for aught we know, is the truth. He has, indeed, what he thinks a very liberal opinion of ladies in general; judging them all, in a manner, with the eye of a seaman's experience: yet he will believe, nevertheless, in the true love' of any given damsel whom he seeks in the way of marriage, let him roam as much, or remain as long at a distance as he pleases. It is not that he wants feeling, but that he has read of it, time out of mind, in songs; and he looks upon constancy as a sort of exploit, answering to those which he performs at sea. He is nice in his watches and linen. He makes you presents of cornelians, antique seals, cocoa-nuts set in silver, and other valuables. When he shakes hands with you, it is like being caught in a windlass. He would not swagger about the streets in his uniform for the world. He is generally modest in company, though liable to

be irritated by what he thinks ungentlemanly behaviour. He is also liable to be irritated by sickness; partly, because he has been used to command others, and to be served with all possible deference and alacrity; and partly, because the idea of suffering pain, without any honor or profit to get by it, is unprofessional, and he is not accustomed to it. He treats talents unlike his own with great respect. He often perceives his own so little felt, that it teaches him this feeling for that of others besides, he admires the quantity of information which people can get, without travelling like himself; especially when he sees how interesting his own becomes, to them as well as to every body else. When he tells a story, particularly if full of wonders, he takes care to maintain his character for truth and simplicity, by qualifying it with all possible reservations, concessions, and anticipations of objection;such as, "in case—at such times as-so to speak-as it were at least at any rate."-He seldom uses sea-terms, but when jocosely provoked by something contrary to his habits of life; as, for instance, if he is always meeting you on horseback, he asks you if you never mean to walk the deck again; or, if he finds you studying day after day, he says you are always overhauling your log-book.

He makes more new acquaintances, and forgets his old ones less than any other man in the busy world; for he is so compelled to make his home every where, remembers his native one as such a place of enjoyment, has all his friendly recollections so fixed upon his mind at sea, and has so much to tell and to hear when he returns, that change and separation lose with him the most heartless part of their nature. He also sees such a variety of customs and manners, that he becomes charitable in his opinions altogether; and charity, while it diffuses new affections, cannot let the old ones go. Half the secret of human intercourse is to make allowance for each other.

When the officer is superannuated, or retires, he becomes, if intelligent and inquiring, one of the most agreeable old men in the world, equally welcome to the silent for his card-playing, and to the conversational for his recollections. He is fond of astronomy and books of voyages, and is immortal with all who know him for having been round the world, or seen the transit of Venus, or had one of his fingers carried off by a New Zealand hatchet, or a present of feathers from an

Otaheitan beauty. If not elevated by his acquirements above some of his humbler tastes, he delights in a corner cupboard holding his cocoa-nuts and punch-bowl;-has his summerhouse castellated, and planted with wooden cannon; and sets up the figure of his old ship, the Britannia, or the Lovely Nancy, for a statue in the garden, where it stares eternally with red cheeks and round black eyes, as if in astonishment at its situation.

THE ISLANDS OF THE PACIFIC.

In the commencement of the year 1800, I sailed in a small brig from Canton towards Otaheite, to procure a cargo of sandal wood; intending to return from thence to China. Before the voyage was completed we were assailed by violent storms; our vessel was so seriously injured, that the captain deemed it expedient to bear away for the Navigator's Islands, that he might there repair the injury. When this was acomplished, we proceeded to our destination without further delay.

I had before heard much of the beauty of the Navigator's Islands, but all that I had heard was more than realized by what I saw during our detention there I spent my leisure hours in exploring them, and at times I felt that it would be an advantageous exchange to relinquish the world, with all its allurements and disappointments, and spend the remainder of my days, beneath the blue sky and the forests of palm and orange trees of this delightful region.

Almost in the centre of this group there is a small island, distinguished beyond the others for the beauty of its situation. Along its eastern beach, there is a bay that seems completely enclosed by verdant hills, and by a high promontory, which jutting out from the mouth, apparently excludes its waters from those of the ocean. Ascending this promontory, on the one hand you may look back upon the glades, woods, and rising grounds that imbosom the bay as it lies beneath, reflecting the surrounding scenery from its motionless surface: and on the other side you may contemplate the dark expanse of the ocean. To the south-eastthe eye wanders without a limit over the waste of waters,' but