the crater. It was very dreadful to look at, but, notwithstanding, no one could take their eyes off the scene. At last Old Boody and his impish tormentors reached the brink of the crater, and there he made one determined stand, apparently endeavouring to break through them and charge down the mountain again; but the big imp, butting at him with his horns, made him turn his head, and his neck became thus jammed between them, and then throwing up his heels and his tail, gave him such an impetus, the other little imps pronging at him at the same time, that over they all toppled together, just as the sun rose above the ocean, while the mountain, as if disturbed by what had gone into it, threw up vivid flames and dense clouds of smoke. Captain Tomkins, his mate, and crew uttered in concert a groan of horror when they beheld this dreadful catastrophe.

"That is awful!" said the Captain, fetching a deep breath; "but note it down in the log, Mr. Hopkins-people on shore now will not believe this when they hear it."

"April 1st: Becalmed off Stromboli.-Three sail in sight, supposed to be Dido, Jane and John, and Fair Islander.-In the morning watch, just before sunrise, all hands on deck saw Old Boody, ship-chandler, of Point-street, Portsmouth, driven up the mountain by a troop of imps, and then all disappeared together down the crater. At seven a.m. a breeze sprung up from N.N.E.-made sail and stood away to the S.W."

I need not say that this occurrence formed the subject of conversation for the remainder of the voyage home. The seamen drew a moral from it, that it had taken place in order to prove a warning to sinners to turn aside from their wicked ways, by exhibiting to them the dreadful punishment they might otherwise expect to receive as their due.

The Swallow was a fast craft, and, not waiting for convoy, she had a remarkably prosperous and quick passage, and, escaping all the dangers of the enemy's cruisers, and storms, arrived at Portsmouth before the end of the month. Scarcely had the anchor been dropped, than, among other news, Captain Tomkins heard from his friends that Old Boody was dead. "When did he die?" he asked, eagerly.

"On the 1st of April, at four o'clock in the morning," was the answer; "and certainly he did not make a very exemplary exit, for to the last moment he was cursing and swearing, and declaring that the imps he saw standing round his bed should not have him."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Captain Tomkins and his mate in the same breath, and they then narrated what they had seen.

"And how was he dressed?" asked the Captain.

"Oh, he was in bed, you know," answered his friend; "but he had

on a red nightcap, which made him look still more dreadful than he otherwise would."

"Then there can be no doubt about it," cried the Captain, and calculating the difference of longitude, and that Old Boody and the imps had probably been some little time on the mountain, the period exactly agreed.

Of course, as was to be expected, Captain Tomkins told the story wherever he went. Some people believed it, and some did not, and at last some kind friend told the widow Boody what was said of her deceased lord.

The widow was furious when she heard the stories which were current in the world, and, on learning that Captain Tomkins was the author of them, she vowed that she would come to fisticuffs with him before the A little attorney, an day was an hour older, if she could catch him. admirer of the widow, or of her money-bags, suggested that she had a far more effectual method of redress in the law, and that the Captain might be mulcted in heavy damages, for defamation of her husband's character. He urged that the story was probably concocted between Captain Tomkins and his mate, and that no jury would believe the atrocious calumny.

The widow approved of the plan: a writ was therefore forthwith served on poor Tomkins, and the trial was fixed to come on at the next Winchester Assizes, shortly about to commence.

The trial, from the extraordinary circumstances connected with it, and Old Boody's well-known character, excited great interest; the court was crowded to excess.

The plaintiff's counsel having stated the cause of the action, and called on the jury to consider the wounded and cruelly lacerated feelings of the bereaved widow, yet in the first month of her weeds, at hearing her deceased lord thus vilely traduced, called on them to award heavy damages, not as a means of soothing her unmitigated grief, but to mark their sense, as Englishmen, of the vileness of the calumny, then closed the case.

The counsel for the defendant then rose. He simply stated what Captain Tomkins believed he had seen, what his mate and all his crew believed they had seen, and read the part of the log where the occurrence was briefly detailed.

The mate and all the crew were then separately examined, and not one of them differed in the least from the others in their accounts.

The jury, though not convinced, were evidently surprised, but a fresh arrival of unexpected witnesses to the truth of Captain Tomkins's These were no statements completely turned the tide in his favour.

others than the captains and mates of the Dido, the Jane and John, and the Fair Islander, who had been becalmed off Stromboli at the same time with him, and had all beheld the same wonderful occurrence, which they had also noted in their logs, and which logs they had brought with them. They were soon heard, and their logs examined.

"If," said the Judge, on summing up, "you are convinced that no collusion has taken place between the witnesses, that they are all honest men, stating what they believe they have seen, you must dismiss from your minds all previous conceived notions as to the possibility of the occurrence. We are not here to discuss the subject of supernatural visitations, and far be it from me to assert that they do not take place, but, as I say, calmly examining the evidence brought before you, give your verdict accordingly."

The jury, within a minute, returned into court, and gave verdicts for the defendants. Thus terminated this most extraordinary trial, and no one could afterwards doubt the truth of a circumstance, wonderful as it may seem, proved by so overwhelming an amount of evidence.

Strange as it may appear, I never heard any one suggest that the whole story from beginning to end was a fabrication—yet such is the case. The story and evidence brought forward in proof of its truth are equally without foundation-no one ever saw Old Boody, or any one like Old Boody, or any other biscuit-baker, ship-chandler, or navy contractor, sent down the crater of Stromboli, or of any other burning mountain, by imps, or any appearance of the sort-no Captain Tomkins or any other master of a merchantman ever said he did see such an appearance-no such statement was ever entered in any ship's log, no such report ever got abroad, and no such trial as has been described ever took place at Winchester or anywhere else. There might have been such a person as Old Boody, who might have been a great rogue, and the inventor of the story may have made him his victim-that I am not prepared to deny. I am reminded of the story by hearing of the absurd narratives connected with spirit-rapping and similar nonsense. I hear the same reason adduced for believing in spiritrapping which I have known brought forward in support of the story of Old Boody, &c., that such things may be permitted to remind sinners that there is a world of spirits, and of the terrible fate prepared for those who die in their sins. I have simply to reply, that, putting aside all other considerations, we have only, if we are Christians, to turn to what our Blessed Lord says on the subject—" If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead." -Luke xvi. 31.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE TREASURE ISLES.*

(A.D. 1760.)

BY AMELIA B. EDWARDS.

IT

T was on the 26th of October, 1760, at twenty-seven minutes past ten o'clock, a.m., that I shook hands for the last time with those worthy merchants and shipowners, Messrs. Fisher, Clarke, and Fisher, of Bristol. I went at once on board the Mary-Jane, then lying alongside the drawbridge by St. Augustine's parade, in the very heart of the old city. It was my first command, so I stepped on deck with some little pride of heart, and bade the men weigh anchor. My exultation may be pardoned when it is recollected that I was only twenty-six years of age, and naturally thought it a fine thing to be captain of a tight little trading schooner like the Mary-Jane, with a valuable cargo on board, and a mate, three sailors, and a boy under my absolute authority.

The flags were flying from every masthead and steeple, and the bells were pealing clamorously, as we worked out of port that morning; for it was the very day of the king'st accession, and all Bristol was wild with loyalty. I remember as well as if it were yesterday, how the sailors cheered from the ships as we went down the Avon; and how my men threw up their hats in reply, and shouted, "Long live King George!" The Avon, however, was soon left behind, and we entered the Bristol Channel with a favourable wind, all sail set, and a sky brilliant with sunshine above our heads. We were bound, I should observe, for Jamaica, and carried a cargo consisting chiefly of printed goods, hardware, and cutlery, which it was my duty to deliver to the consignee at Kingston. This done, my instructions were to ship a return cargo of cotton, indigo, rum, and other West Indian products. Perhaps it may be as well to add that the Mary-Jane carried about a hundred tons burthen; that my name is William Burton, and my mate's name was Aaron Taylor.

The Mary-Jane was not a quick sailer, as I soon discovered; but she was a good, sound, steady little craft, and I consoled myself by remem

From a M.S. found on a bookstall.

The writer alludes, evidently, to King George III., who was proclaimed throughout the kingdom on the 26th Oct., 1760; King George II. having died suddenly, at Kensington, on the 25th.

bering that safety was better than speed. It was dusk before we reached Lundy Island, and almost daylight next morning when we passed the Land's-End. This was slow work; but as the wind had shifted a point or two during the night, I made the best of matters, and tried to hope we should do better by and by. After tossing about somewhat roughly off the Bay of Biscay, we made Cape Finisterre on the 4th of November; and on the 18th put in at Terceira for water. Having remained here for the best part of two days, we put to sea again on the evening of the 20th. The wind now began to set in more and more against us, and ended by blowing steadily from the South; so that, although we had glorious weather over head, we made almost as little way as if we 'had had storms to contend against. At length, after a week of ineffectual beating about, just as I was going to turn the ship's head and run back to Terceira, the breeze shifted suddenly to the North. The N.W. would have suited us better; but if we could not get exactly the wind we most wanted, we were thankful, at all events, to tack about, and make such progress as was possible.

Thus we went forward slowly towards the tropics, attended by perpetual sunshine and cloudless skies, and enjoying a climate that grew milder and more delicious every day. The incidents of our voyage, up to this time, had been few and unimportant. A Dutch merchantman seen one morning in the offing-a porpoise caught by one of the crewa flight of swallows on the wing-a shark following the ship. These, and similar trifles, were all the events that befel us for many a week ; events which are nothing when related, and yet afford matter for vivid interest to those on shipboard. At length, on the 15th of December, we entered the tropic of Cancer; and on the 19th sailed into a light sea-fog, which surprised us very much at such a season, and in such a latitude; but which was welcome, nevertheless, for the sun's heat was now becoming intense, and seemed as if it would burn the very deck beneath our feet. All that day the fog hung low upon the sea, the wind fell, and the waters were lulled almost to a calm. My mate predicted a hurricane; but no hurricane came. On the contrary, sea and air stagnated more and more; and the last breath of wind died away as the sun went down. Then the sudden tropical night closed in, and the heat grew more oppressive than before.

I went to my cabin to write, as was my custom in the evening; but, though I wore only a thin linen suit, and kept every porthole open, I felt as if the cabin was a coffin, and would suffocate Having borne it till I could bear it no longer, I threw the pen aside and went on deck again. There I found Aaron Taylor keeping

me.