was about to depart, he went into a boat with all his effects, and was rowed ashore under the direction of the captain. This was in the month of October, 1704.

His first sensation on landing was one of joy, arising from a sense of being relieved from the annoyances under which he had so long suffered; but he no sooner heard the sound of the receding oars, than the sense of solitude and helplessness fell upon his mind, and made him rush into the water to entreat his companions to take him once more on board. The brutal commander only made this change of resolution a subject of mockery, and told him it would be best for the remainder of the crew that so troublesome a fellow should remain where he was.

Here, then, was a single human being left to provide for his own subsistence upon an uninhabited and uncultivated island, far from all haunts of his kind, and with but faint hopes of ever again mingling with his fellow-creatures. Vigorous as the mind of Selkirk appears to have been, it sank for some days under the horrors of his situation, and he could do nothing but sit upon his chest, and gaze in the direction in which the ship had vanished, vainly hoping for its return. On partly recovering his equanimity, he found it necessary to consider how he should support life. The articles which he had brought ashore consisted, besides his clothing and bedding, of a gun, a pound of gunpowder, a quantity of bullets, a flint and steel, a few pounds of tobacco, a hatchet, a knife, a kettle, a can, a Bible, some books of devotion, and one or two concerning navigation, and his mathematical instruments.

He knew that the island contained wild goats; but being unwilling to lose the chance of observing a passing sail, he preferred for a long time feeding upon shell fish and seals, which he found upon the shore. The island, which is rugged and picturesque, but covered with luxuriant vegetation, and clothed with wood to the tops of the hills, was now in all the bloom and freshness of spring; but upon the dejected solitary its charms were spent in vain. He could only wander along the

beach, pining for the approach of some friendly vessel, which might restore him to the society of his fellow-creatures.

At length the necessity of providing a shelter from the weather supplied him with an occupation that served in some measure to divert his thoughts. He built himself two huts with the wood of the pimento tree, thatching them with the long grass which grows upon the island. One was to serve him as a kitchen, the other as a bedroom. But yet, every day for the first eighteen months, he spent more or less time upon the beach waiting for the appearance of a sail upon the horizon.

At the end of that time, partly through habit, partly through the influence of religion, which here exerted its full force upon his mind, he became reconciled to his situation. Every morning, after rising, he read a portion of Scripture, sang a psalm, and prayed, speaking aloud, in order to preserve the use of his voice. He afterwards remarked that during his

residence on the island he was a better Christian than he had ever been before, or would probably ever be again.

He lived much upon turtles, which abounded upon the shores; but afterwards he found himself able to run down the wild goats, of which he kept a small stock tamed, around his dwelling, to be used in the event of his being disabled by sickness. He suffered much inconvenience at first from the want of salt; but he gradually became accustomed to this privation, and at last found so much relish in unsalted food, that in after life he found it difficult to take any other. As a substitute for bread, he had turnips, parsnips, and the cabbage palm, all of excellent quality, and also radishes and water-cresses.

When his clothes were worn out, he supplied their place with goat skins, which gave him an appearance more uncouth than that of any wild animal. He had a piece of linen, from which he made new shirts by means of a nail and the thread of his stockings; and he never wanted this comfortable piece of attire during the whole period of his residence on the island. Every physical want being thus gratified, and his mind soothed

by devotional feeling, he at length began to positively enjoy his existence, often lying for whole days in the delicious bowers which he had formed for himself, rapt in the most pleasant sensations.

Among the quadruped inhabitants of the island were multitudes of rats, which at first annoyed him by gnawing his feet while asleep. He freed himself from the presence of these enemies by catching and taming some of the cats which also abounded in the neighborhood. He amused himself by hunting on foot, in which he at length, through healthy exercise and habit, became such a proficient that he could run down the swiftest goat.

He was careful to measure the lapse of time, and distinguished Sunday from the other days in the week. Anxious, in the midst of all his indifference to society, that, in the event of his dying in solitude, his having lived there might not be unknown to his fellow-creatures, he carved his name upon a number of trees, adding the date of his being left, and the space of time which had since elapsed. When his knife was worn out, he made new ones out of some iron hoops which he found on the shore.

Selkirk's solitary life upon the island continued for four years and four months; at the end of which time he was found by two British vessels which touched there. He lived about ten years after his restoration to society. He attracted much attention on account of his singular adventures, and many persons of distinction visited him to hear his story from his own lips. His manners were peculiar and reserved; and it appeared that his long seclusion from his fellow-men had in some degree unfitted him from mingling with them.

ALEXANDER SELKIRK, DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ.

COWPER.

[William Cowper, an English poet, was born in 1731, and died in 1800. His poetry is remarkable for its religious tone, its vigorous style, and its accurate pictures of nature. There is a little ambiguity in the title to this poem. No one ever supposed that these verses were actually written by Alexander Selkirk, but the meaning is, that they express the sentiments he may be imagined to have felt while on his solitary island.]

I AM monarch of all I survey;

My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of Humanity's reach;

I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see:
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestowed upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage

In the way of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,

And be cheered by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold

Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver or gold,

Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard, Ne'er sighed at the sound of a knell,

Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore

Some cordial, endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O, tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-wingéd arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabin repair.
There is mercy in every place;
And mercy (encouraging thought!)

Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.