with dismay. The ripple of the sea suddenly ceased, as if in the awful expectance of some horrible convulsion of nature, the wind rose with fearful force, destroying the smoothness of the waters, and threatening with its violence to overturn the caravel; one gigantic wave broke over it, and swept from it the Indian, together with the whole of Juan's companions. All was now lost, and commending himself to the Virgin, he laid himself down perfectly resigned to his fate; one moment carried to an immense height by the billows, the next borne down, as it were, to the very bottom of the sea. The calls of hunger and thirst then brought him to a sense of his situation, and to his horror he discovered that not only his companions, but the whole of his provisions, had been swept away by the ruthless tempest. Despair now assailed him, and no succour, nothing but an interminable waste of tumbling waters could be discerned around-a kind of stupor oppressed him, and he lay in a state of insensibility.

How long he remained in this condition he knew not; but when he awoke, an odoriferous fragrance scented the air; and the song of birds breathed the most delicious music: his first impression was that he was no longer on the shores of earth, but had been borne silently away to the land of Paradise. A beautiful Carib girl was bending her full dark eyes over him, and when he first gazed on her, an expression of rapturous joy lighted them up with celestial lustre. A store of cassova bread and roots, she placed before him, by signs inducing him to eat, and when he seemed to have recovered a little strength, she led the way to a small bell-shaped hut, where, by her cares, he was soon restored to his accustomed vigour. Juan Fernandez Pinzon had a heart fraught with the finest feelings of humanity, and the tenderness of the Carib girl sank deeply into his soul: remaining with her some time, he learned a portion of the language, and his first enquiries were for the Fountain of Youth, the object of his leaving Spain; the next respecting the other inhabitants of the island, for he could not suppose the beautiful being who attended him could reside alone. To the first question she could only reply by pointing northward; a party of Indians had gone in search of it, and never returning, were supposed to have remained there: to the second, her answer was, that she belonged to a Carib tribe, and having been engaged in hunting on the sea side, had discovered Juan lying on the shore insensible; but she conjured him to leave the island as soon as possible, as, in consequence of the outrages committed on the Indians by the various adventurers, who had from time to time landed on the coast, it was the custom to offer up as sacrifices to their gods, all who were unfortunate enough to fall into their hands. This latter information considerably alarmed him, and as the caravel had gone to pieces, the difficulty of escape was exceedingly great.

However with much labour and perseverance he managed to collect a portion of the timbers, and with the aid of such tools as the

affectionate girl procured him, and with her own personal assistance, he formed a good sized boat, but just as he had completed his preparations for sailing, a party of the tribe surprised him with loud shouts, and bore him away into the interior of the island.

The absence of the girl, who was the daughter of the Cacique, had created some anxiety in the mind of her father, and one of her brothers, who had been on the search for her, discovering her retreat, her companion, and their occupation, with the aid of his party carried them both away, the one to be punished as her father should dictate, the other to be the victim of an accursed rite. For some miles they travelled, and at length they reached a large plain entirely surrounded by mountains: the whole tribe were here collected; and on the approach of the party, great rejoicing was evinced by the most discordant yells. Juan was here stripped, the barbarians quarrelling and disputing for his clothes, and tied to a stake, a large fire was kindled before him, and at a given signal, a man advanced with a large club, in order to kill him for the sacrifice. What was at this moment revolving in the mind of Juan would be difficult to describe; in his extremity he commended himself to the Virgin, and called upon her to witness that he died in her cause, and that of her Son, and for the ardour he had displayed, praying for an entrance into the realms of bliss.

The hand of the man was raised, the club was descending, this moment would be his last-when a ball from an arquebus brought the Carib to the ground, and another shot succeeding, the whole tribe alarmed fled with precipitation, from two men who, fighting with thunder and lightning, must in their ideas have come from the skies. The Carib girl had fallen with fear, but seeing the friendly intention of the men towards Juan, advanced bowing to the earth, and implored them if they were not heavenly beings, to hasten from this inhospitable island, a proposal they were not slow in agreeing with, and accordingly, trusting themselves to her guidance, they sought the place where the boat had been left, and to their great felicity found every thing in the same order as when Juan had been seized by the Caribs.

It happened that these two men had been seamen in the brigantine which brought Juan from Spain, and the same storm which cast him on this island, also had compelled them to put to shore, whence, not having sufficient rope to make it fast, their boat had drifted with the receding waters, and having brought their arquebuses with them, they had been wandering about in pursuit of game, fortunately arriving just in time to snatch Juan from the horrible death to which he appeared destined.

Having taken Cassova bread and such food as the Carib girl pointed out to them, into the boat; bearing her also along with them, for neither Juan nor herself could consent to separate, they proceeded northward to Guanahani, or, as it is now called, San Salvador; where, meeting with no interruption from the natives, they leisurely refitted, and started again, sailing in a north-west

This was the land of

erly direction until they arrived at Bimini. promise, yet in vain were the waters of several streams drunk by one of the seamen, who being an old man, the experiment was considered to be fairly tried; and, as no effect was visible, the search for this fountain was kept up with unabated zeal. After many disappointments, Juan and his Carib love discovered one of the most wonderful productions of nature they had ever beheld; on the summit of a lofty hill, stood a splendid tree, full of leaf, and beautifully verdant, waters were gushing from its trunk, and pouring a pellucid stream from its branches; this was deemed with apparent certainty to be the Fountain of Youth, but on seeking his two companions, Juan found they had departed, taking with them the boat. Yet did Juan return thanks for the discovery, and as the hope of returning to Spain was now denied him, he commenced to teach his Isabella, as he named the Carib girl, the principles of Christianity, which when the instructor was one, whom she tenderly loved, she soon learned, and never since in the island of Bimini, have prayers been uttered with more sincerity than by Juan Fernandez Pinzon and his Carib love.

It was for this island that, in the year 1512 Juan Ponce de Leon, with two other ships set sail from Porto Rico, but being baffled by contrary winds in his voyage, he relinquished the search himself, and sent on one of his captains, Juan Pereo de Ortubia ;-this captain found Juan Fernandez and his Carib with one child, their offspring, and although it was now proved that not even the waters of this miraculous tree could restore an old person to his former youth, such was the influence of the tradition, that a long while after many firmly believed the Fountain of Youth did really exist.

Juan Fernandez Pinzon arrived eventually in Spain, and among the records (now destroyed) of the family of Palos, was an account of the baptism of his Isabella, the solemnization of his marriage by La Casas; and for many years the tombs which contain the bodies of himself and bride, were planted with roses, by his careful descendants.

*K*

LINES

On seeing a Contention between two Worms.
Come hither, haughty man! this is thy school;
What art thou here? ambition's giddy fool!
Turn not with scorn; ah, whither wilt thou roam?
To seek the world as thine! yet where's thy home?
Vain man, 'tis here on this corrupting earth,
Where weeds and worms have bitterness and birth.
Where these poor reptiles, strugglers of an hour,
Thy mimic types in prejudice and power,
Unarin'd contend, ingloriously engage,
With bloodless fury and defenceless rage,
To claim the monarchy of this rude spot,
Then end the contest, and begin to rot.

2 B

Scholar of vanity, the moon of pride,
The stars of folly indistinctly hide

Their random rays, behold, they will not shine
With lasting lustre on those gems of thine ;
Or, if in frolic on thy brows they fall,
Thine hour of littleness they but recall,
Shaming thy hopes, disclosing what thou art,
Unfix'd in principle, corrupt in heart,
Thy deeds belieing what thy tongue professed,
Thy tongue betraying what thy soul caressed,
A selfish thought by pride or fashion nurs'd
By hope allured, by pride or fashion curs'd.
Bind closer still, drink counsel with thine ear
From these poor reptiles, thou disdain'st to hear.
Thy weakness nam'd, or meet thy kindred clay,
Worm of the grave plot, vaunter of to-day.
The struggle ceases; hark! dost thou not hear
A low, shrill accent floating on thine ear,
As the proud victor looks, and views beneath,
The vanquish'd stretching in the grasp of death;
As then he cries, in wild ambitious pride,
"Thus like the faint and fearful hart thou died.
This realm is now my own, but man is here,
The dupe of interest and the slave of fear.
Go, go, weak mortal, to thy brother bend,
His pow'r confess, his faults and crimes commend.
Support his aim, and tremble at his nod,
And bow to him more lowly than to God;
For all thy servile deeds what are thy gains?
Untimely death, or ignominious chains."
The victor starts, and pauses to survey
The dying torture of his helpless prey,
That now in mournful destitution lies,
Exerts his tongue, and thus too faintly cries:
"Go victor with thy frowns, establish law,
And burn to hold a trembling world in awe;
Count all glories, spoils, and trophies, o'er;
Survey the realms you've conquered and explore;
How many graves their spacious fields supply,
You ask but one, for which you toil and die.

H:

EXTRACTS FROM A LADY'S LOG-BOOK.
CONTINUED FROM P. 130, VOL. II.

-Hitherto I have spoken of the agreeable side of a sea life; toda and yesterday, from being unwell, I have done little, but say with Mariana in The Moated Grange," "I am aweary, aweary.' There is both comfort and discomfort in knowing that one shall be weary and unweary, well and unwell, sick and unsick of every thing and person on board, full twice a week before the voyage ends. An active mind may countervail much of this; but much

The

will yet remain, the consequence of varying wind and wave. ear becomes fretted with the ceaseless sound of " many waters;" the eye aches with traversing their monotonous expanse; and the mind is perfectly fevered for want of one retired spot, one moment's stillness. Now is the time to be tormented with longings after English green-lanes-English hay-fields anything, but the universal brininess that makes all one eats, drinks, touches, breathes, thinks, and feels-salt. Now is the time to adventure a new reading of Shakspeare, and vow that Hamlet had an eye to a sea voyage, when he exclaimed-"Oh flesh, how art thou finished?" Now, one gets uncharitable, and reverses the good-day impression of one's fellow passengers. Now, one votes that the band (their instruments at least) be thrown overboard; that the piano in the next cabin do follow them; that the musical snuff-boxes, together with their owners, be sent either to the hold or to the main-top. Now, are the excellent breakfasts and dinners turned away from with distaste; and now, does the crazed appetite sympathize with the South American woman, when she longed "to pick the little bones of a little Tapoona boy's head." Now, are the steward and cook perplexed with the strange and divers fancies of the ailing passengers.

Since I have been unwell, Sea-Kitty has been induced to alter the tack of her consolations. The shirks and the dolphins being all too briny for my taste, she started off into a vein of very fair prose poetry, touching the fruits of Madeira, reminiscences of English wild flowers, and a certain Christmas day, spent among the caves of Ellora. Christmas Day in India! a hot Christmas Day! My first squall, and my second Sunday at sea. About midnight, I was awakened by what appeared the noise of a forest of wild beasts let loose overhead. The wind-it seemed as if I had never heard wind before-whilst the sea looked more than enough disposed

To come in spite of sorrow,

And at my window bid good morrow.

Add to this, rolling, lurching, pitching, heaving, and groaning on the part of the ship, and I fancied I had good right to be alarmed. Presently, suspecting what might happen, in walked Mrs., in what she called her storm-dressing gown, with a nonchalance that would have comforted any one. "It's nothing, just nothing at all, Mem."

"Then, what is something?"

"Why when all the things that are lashed down, break loose in a moment-when the sea comes over the hammock rails-when-" and she drew such a picture of a real storm and of what she termed "a hurricane," that my squall was certainly constrained to hide its diminished head. Presently the wind lowered; I grew calm, and she went below, "just to look round if any of the people were leaving port-holes open that ought to be shut; passengers don't know better at first,"

any