honorable, te ligent, and distinguished member. The remaining five of the convicts were hung pursuant to sentence.

Twenty years had passed away, and the Bounty, and Fletcher Christian, and the piratical crew that he had carried off with him in that ship, had long ceased to occupy a thought in the public mind. It happened however, that an accidental discovery, as interesting as it was wholly unexpected, was brought to light in consequence of an American trading vessel having, by mere chance, approached one of those numerous islands in the Pacific, against whose steep and iron-bound shore the surf almost everlastingly rolls with such tremendous violence as to bid defiance to any attempts of boats to land, except at particular times and in very few places.

Captain Folger, of the American brig Topaz, of Boston, in September, 1808, landed on Pitcairn's Island in latitude 25° 2 south, longitude 130° west, where he found an Englishman, of the name of Alexander Smith, the only person remaining of nine that had escaped in the Bounty. Smith related that, after putting Captain Bligh in the boat, Christian took command of the ship and went to Otaheite, where many of the crew left her, except Christian, Smith, and seven others, who each took wives, and six Otaheitan men-servants, and shortly after arrived at Pit cairn's Island, where they ran the ship ashore and broke her up; this event took place in the year 1790.

About four years after their arrival (a great jealousy existing), the Otaheitans secretly revolted, and killed every Englishman except Smith, whom they severely wounded in the neck with a pistol ball. The same night, the widows of the deceased Englishmen arose and put to death the whole of the Otaheitans, leaving Smith the only man alive upon the island, with eight or nine women and several small children. On his recovery, he applied himself to tilling the ground, so that it now produced plenty of yams, cocoa-nuts, bananas and plantains; hogs and poultry in abundance. There were some grown-up men and women, children of the mutineers, on the island, the whole population amounting to about thirty-five, who acknowledged Smith as father and commander of them all; they all spoke English, and had been educated by him in a moral and religious way.

It was asserted by the second mate of the Topaz, that Christian, the ringleader became insane shortly after taking up his abode on the island, and threw himself off the rocks into the sea. It is clear enough that this misguided and ill-fated young man was never happy after the rash and criminal step he had taken. He was always sullen and morose, and committed so many acts of wanton oppression as very soon incurred the hatred of his companions. According to the account of Smith, or as he was usually called, John Adams, the cause of Christian's death was

his having forcibly seized on the wife of one of the Otaheite men, which so exasperated the rest that they not only sought the life of the offender, but of others also who might, as they thought, be disposed to pursue the same course. The manner of Christian's death still remains uncertain; certain it is, that however far he might escape from the reach of justice there was no escaping from

"Those rods of scorpians and those whips of steel

Which conscience shakes."

Pitcairn's Island was visited in 1814 by his majesty's frigates, the Briton and the Tagus, by which the account of Captain Folger was confirmed. From the time of this visit nothing more was heard of Adams and his family for nearly twelve years, when, in 1825, Captain Beechey, in the Blossom, bound on a voyage of discovery, touched at Pitcairn's Island. He found the descendants of the mutineers increased to sixty-six; the females were modest, handsome and pleasing, and the males added a wonderful degree of strength and agility to a beautiful symmetry of form. Adams had introduced into his little society, the most salutary laws and regulations, which he had drawn from the bible, and seemed desirous to atone for his past misconduct by training up the rising generation in piety and virtue. The death of this old patriarch took place in March, 1829, and he was sincerely lamented by the infant colony. It has recently been stated in the newspapers, that owing to a deficiency of water at Pitcairn's Island, the descendants of the mutineers had all emigrated to Otaheite: but there being disgusted with the dissolute and immoral behavior of the islanders, they had returned to the place of their birth to escape the contamination of vice and intempe

rance.

THE SHETLAND ISLES.

These islands lie about fifteen leagues north-east of the Orkneys, between the fifty-ninth and sixty-first degrees of north latitude. They are about eighty-six in number, of which forty are inhabited, and the others are small holms or rocky islets, used only for pasturage. The small islands of Foula and Fair Isle lie in the strait between the clusters of Orkney and Shetland. The climate of these islands cannot be said to be agreeable. The weather is wet and variable, though not injurious to the health of those who have been accustomed to it.

Great numbers of horses are bred in Shetland, though they are of very small size, the ordinary height being from nine to ten hands, whilst the largest do not exceed eleven hands. The inhab

itants are a hardy, robust and laborious race, and hospitable to strangers. They have few manufactures, but export great quantities of stockings wrought upon wires, manufactured from the wool of their own sheep.

The isles afford abundance of sea-fowl, which serve the inhabitants for part of their food, while the down and feathers are a source of considerable profit to them. The several tribes of fowl here build and hatch apart. Some of the lesser isles are so crowded with variety of sea-fowl, that they darken the air when they fly, in great numbers. The people inhabiting the lesser isles have plenty of eggs, and fowl, which contribute to maintain their families during the summer. The common people are generally very dexterous in climbing the rocks in quest of the eggs and fowl; but this exercise is attended with great danger, and sometimes proves fatal to those who venture too far. The most remarkable experiment of this sort is at the isle called the Noss of Brassah and is as follows:

The Noss being about sixteen fathom distant from the side of the opposite main; the higher and lower rocks have two stakes fastened in each of them, and to these there are ropes tied: upon the ropes is hung an engine which they call a cradle; and in this a man makes his way over from the greater to the lesser rock, where he takes a considerable quantity of eggs and fowl; but his return being by an ascent, makes it more dangerous, though those on the great rock have a rope tied to the cradle, by which they draw it and the man safe over for the most part.

There are some rocks here computed to be about three hundred

fathoms high; and the way of climbing them is, to tie a rope about a man's middle and let him down with a basket, in which he brings up his eggs and fowl. The isle of Foula is the most dangerous and fatal to the climbers, for many of them perish in the attempt.

A SEA-BALLAD.

A jolly comrade in the port, a fearless mate at sea;
When I forget thee, to my hand false may the cutlass be!
And may my gallant battle-flag be stricken down in shame,
If, when the social can goes roun, I fail to pledge thy name!
Up, up, my lads! his memory! we'll give it with a cheer-
Ned Bolton, the commander of the Black Snake privateer!

Poor Ned! he had a heart of steel, with neither flaw nor speck:
Firm as a rock, in strife or storm, he stood the quarter-deck ;
He was, I trow, a welcome man to many an Indian dame,
And Spanish planters crossed themselves at whisper of his name,
But now, Jamaica girls may weep-rich Dons securely smile-
His bark will take no prize again, nor e'er touch Indian isle!

S blood! 'twas a sorry fate he met on his own mother wave-
The foe far off, the storm asleep, and yet to find a grave!
With store of the Peruvian gold, and spirit of the cane,
No need would he have had to cruise in tropic climes again:
But some are born to sink at sea, and some to hang on shore,
And Fortune cried, God speed! at last, and welcomed Ned no more.

"Twas off the coast of Mexico-the tale is bitter brief-
The Black Snake, under press of sail, stuck fast upon a reef-
Upon a cutting coral-reef, scarce a good league from land,

But hundreds, both of horse and foot, were ranged upon the strand;
His boats were lost before Cape Horn, and, with an old canoe,
Even had he numbered ten for one, what could Ned Bolton do?

Six days and nights the vessel lay upon the coral-reef,
Nor favoring gale, nor friendly flag brought prospect of relief;
For a land breeze, the wild one prayed, who never prayed before,
And when it came not at his call, he bit his lip and swore.
The Spaniards shouted from the beach, but did not venture near
Too well they knew the mettle of the daring privateer!

A calm! a calm! a hopeless calm! the red sun burning high,
Giared blisteringly and wearily in a transparent sky;

The grog went round the gasping crew, and loudly rose the song,
The only pastime at an hour when rest seemed far too long.

So boisterously they took their rouse upon the crowded deck

They looked like men who had escaped, not feared, a sudden wreck.

Up sprung the breeze the seventh day-away! away! to sea
Drifted the bark, with riven planks, over the waters free;
Their battle-flag these rovers bold then hoisted topmast high,
And to the swarthy foe sent back a fierce defying cry.

"One last broadside!" Ned Bolton cried deep boomed the cannon's roar And echo's hollow growl returned an answer from the shore.

The thundering gun, the broken song, the mad, tumultuous cheer
Ceased not, so long as ocean spared the shattered privateer.

I saw her-I—she shot by me, like lightning, in the gale,

We strove to save, we tacked, and fast we slackened all our sail-
I knew the wave of Ned's right hand-farewell! you strive in vain!
And he, nor one of his ship's crew, e'er entered port again!

DANGERS OF A NOVA SCOTIA FOG.

BY CAPTAIN HALL.

There are few things more provoking than the fogs off Halifax, for, as they happen to be companions of that very wind, the southeast, which is the best for running in, the navigator is plagued with the tormenting conciousness, that if he could be allowed but a couple of hours of clear weather, his port would be gained, and his troubles over. The clearing up, therefore, of these odious clouds or veils is about the most delightful thing I know; and the instantaneous effect which a clear sight of the land, or even of the sharp horizon, when far at sea, has on the mind of every person on board, is quite remarkable. All things look bright, fresh, and more beautiful than ever. The stir over the whole ship at these moments is so great that even persons sitting below can tell at once that the fog has cleared away. The rapid clatter of the men's feet, springing up the hatchways at the lively sound of the boatswains call to "make sail!" soon follows. Then comes the cheerful voice of the officer, hailing the topmen to shake out the reefs, trice up the stay sails, and rig out the booms. That peculiar and well known kind of echo, also, by which the sound of the voice is thrown back from the wet sails, contributes in like manner, to produce a joyous elasticity of spirits, greater, I think than is excited by most of the ordinary occurrences of a sea life.

A year or two after the time I am speaking of, it was resolved to place a heavy gun upon the rock on which Sambro lighthouse is built; and, after a good deal of trouble, a long twenty-four pounder was hoisted up to the highest ridge of this prominent station. It was then arranged that, if, on the arrival of any ship off the harbor, in a period of fog she chose to fire guns, these were to be answered from the light-house, and in this way a kind of audible though invisible telegraph might be set to work. If it happened that the officers of the ship were sufficiently familiar with the ground, and possessed nerves stout enough for such a groping kind of navagation, perilous at best, it was possible to run