distant sea-line and obscuring the stars; and the ocean put on a gloomy aspect. Millions of living things, which had ascended from the caverns of the deep, or been engendered from the stagnation and heat, played in snaky antics on its surface. No sailor was now pacing the deck on his accustomed watch. The want of motion in the ship, and her powerless sails hanging in festoons amid the diminishing starlight, added to the solitary feeling which, in spite of my apathy, I experienced. I thought myself cut off from mankind for ever, and that my ship, beyond where winds ever blew, would lie and rot upon the corrupting sea. I forgot the melancholy fate of my crew at this moment, and thought, with comparative unconcern, that the time must soon come when the last draught of water being finished, "I too must die." Then, half slumbering, a thousand strange images would come before my sight; the countenance of my late mate, or some one of the crew, was frequently among them, distorted, and fitted upon uncouth bodies. I felt feverish and unwell on awaking. One moment I fancied I saw a vessel pass the ship under full sail and with a stiff breeze, and then a second, while no ruffle appeared on the ocean near mine, and I hailed them in vain. Now I heard the tramp of feet upon the deck, and the whisper of voices, as of persons walking near me, whom I uselessly challenged; this was followed by the usual obdurate silence. I felt no fear; for nature had no visitation for mortal man more appalling than I had already encountered: and to the ultimate of evils with social man, as I have before observed, I was insensible-for what weight could social ideas of good or evil have with me at such a moment?

The morning of the eleventh day of my suffering I went down into the cabin, to take some refreshment to Robson. Though at intervals in the full possession of his senses, the shortest rational conversation exhausted him; while talking in his in 10 ATHENEUM, VOL. 9, 2d series.

coherent fits did not produce the same debilitating effect. "Where is the mate?" he wildly asked me; "Why am I in your cabin, captain?

Have they flung Waring overboard yet?" I contented myself with giving him general answers, which appeared to satisfy him. I feared to tell him we were the only survivors; for the truth, had he chanced to comprehend it in its full force, might have been fatal. On returning upon the deck, I observed that clouds were slowly forming, while the air became doubly oppressive and sultry. The intensity of the sun's rays was exchanged for a closer and even more suffocating heat, that indicated an alteration of some kind in the atmosphere. Hope suddenly awoke in my bosom again: a breeze might spring up, and I might get free from my horrible captivity. I took an observation, and found that I was clear of the rocks and shoals of the Bahamas, towards which I feared a current might have insensibly borne me; all I could do, therefore, in case the wind blew, was to hang out a signal of distress, and try to keep the sea until I fell in with some friendly vessel.

I immediately took measures for navigating the ship by myself. I fastened rope to secure the helm in any position I might find needful, so that I might venture to leave it a few moments when occasion required. I went aloft, and cut away the topsails which I could not reef, and reduced the canvass all over the ship as much as possible, leaving only one or two of the lower sails set: for if it blew fresh, I could not have taken them in, and the ship might perish; while by doing this, I had some chance of keeping her alive.

I now anxiously watched the clouds which seemed to be in motion, and the sight was a cordial to me. At last the sea began to heave with gentle undulations, a slight ripple suc ceeded, and bore new life with it. I wept for joy, and then laughed, as I saw it shake the sails and gradually fill them; and when at length the

brig moved, just at noon on the eleventh day after our becalmment commenced, I became almost mad with delight. It was like a resurrection from the dead; it was the beginning of a new existence with me. Fearful as my state then was in reality, it appeared a heaven to that which I had been in. The hope of deliverance aroused me to new energies. I felt hungry, and ate voraciously; for till that moment I had scarcely eaten enough to sustain life. The chance of once more mingling with my fellow meu filled my imagination, and braced every fibre of my frame, almost to breaking. The ship's motion perceptibly increased; the ripple under her bow at length became audible; she felt additional impulse, moved yet faster; and at length cut through the water at the

rate of four or five knots an hour. This was fast enough for her safety, though not for my impatience. I steered her large before the wind for some time, and then kept her as near as possible in the track of vessels bound for Europe, certain that, carrying so little sail, I must be speedily overtaken by some ship that could render me assistance. Nor was I disappointed in my expectation. After steering two days with a moderate breeze, during which time I never left the helm, a large West Indiaman came up with me, and gave me every necessary aid. By this means I was enabled to reach Halifax, and finally the river Mersey, about five weeks later than the time I had formerly calculated for my voyage.

THE HE Turks have a manly and prepossessing demeanour; being generally of a good stature, and remarkably well formed in their limbs. The men shave their heads, but wear long beards, and are extremely proud of their mustaches, which are usually turned downwards, and which give the other features of the face a cast of peculiar pensiveness. They wear turbans, some times white, of an enormous size on their heads, and never remove them but when they go to repose. Their breeches, or drawers, are united with their stockings, and they have slippers, which they never put off but when they enter a mosque, or the house of a great man. Large shirts are worn, and over them is a vest tied with a sash; the outer garment being a sort of loose gown. Every man, in whatever station he is, carries a dagger in his sash. The women's attire much resembles that of the other sex, only they have a cap on their heads, something like a bishop's mitre, instead of a turban. Their hair is beautiful and long,

mostly black, but their faces, which are remarkably handsome, are so covered when they walk out, that nothing is to be seen but their eyes. The ladies of the sultan's haram are lovely virgins, either captives taken during war, or presents from the governors of provinces. They are never allowed to stir abroad except when the grand signior removes ; and then they are put into close chariots, signals being made at certain distances that no man may approach the road through which the ladies pass, on pain of death. There are a great number of female slaves in the sultan's haram, whose task it is to wait on the ladies, who have, besides, a black eunuch for their superintendant.

There are three colleges in Turkey where the children of distinguished men are educated and fitted for state employments. The children are first approved by the grand signior before they are allowed to enter these seminaries; and none dare come into his majesty's presence who are not handsome and well-made.

at Florence in 1633; his passion for reading induced him to employ every moment of his time in improving his mind. By means of an astonishing memory and incessant application, he became more conversant with literary history than any man of his time, and was appointed librarian to the grand duke of Tuscany. He has been called a living library. He was a man of a most forbidding and savage aspect, and exeeedingly negligent of his person. He refused to be waited upon, and rarely took off his clothes to go to bed. His dinner was commonly three hard eggs, with a draught of water. He had a small window in his door, through which he could see all those

THE HE love of fame has been called "the universal passion"—as just ly may the love of country be styled the universal sentiment. The latter is, indeed, more deserving of an epithet implying ubiquity than the other, for there is no region where humanity can exist, that it is not found to flourish--no soil so barren, or sky so inclement, where this vigorous feeling is stunted in the human breast; nor is there any state of society, however barbarous or obscure, where it does not operate like an imperishable instinct. It even appears to grow more intense in proportion as a country labours under natural disadvantages; but the reason is, that where physical circumstances make it difficult for man to sustain his existence, the dangers, the toil, and the incessant activity of rude enterprise, which occupy and support life, produce hardihood of mind and body, which give to all the natural affections a more decisive energy than they can have, where greater opportunities of repose and luxurious enjoyment soften down the human character, more or less, from the excellence of its wildly elastic tones, and impress upon it the traits of languor and enervation. Thus,

who approached him; and if he did not wish for their company, he would not admit them. He spent some hours in each day at the palace library; but is said never in his life to have gone farther from Florence than to Pratz, whither he once accompanied Cardinal Norris to see a manuscript. He died at the age of 81, in the year 1714. In the present age we have bookworms, who wander from one bookstall to another, and there devour their daily store of knowledge. Others will linger at the tempting window filled with the

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twopenny," and read all the open pages; then pass on to another of the same description, and thus enjoy literature by the way of Cheapside.

we find, that in the boisterous and inclement regions of the north, where the savage procures a precarious livelihood by braving the dangers of the ocean, beset with shoals and whirlpools, in a frail skiff, or tracks his prey by the light of the moon, over a howling wilderness of snow-there the patriot passion, as it has been called, binds the heart of the native fondly to rocks and eternal barrenness, making nature, in her most terrible circumstances, appear to his eye, when present, but still more to his memory, when far away, desirable and lovely.

So strong and unsubduable is this sentiment, that the Lapland savage, if placed in the midst of security and enjoyment in the most blooming portion of the temperate zone, would turn from the pleasures that surrounded him, and sicken with desire for the solitudes, the storms, the dreary nights, and perilous adventures which rise upon his mind with the charmed and mournful recollections of his country. Hence it is, that the inhabitants of mountain regions are much more sensibly affected by any circumstance which reminds them of their native land, when sojourning in a