vants and sailors when he told them that he purposed making the long and dangerous voyage to Lisbon in the miserable little boat in which they had embarked. But, as he went on commenting upon the feasibility of the project, discussing the real dangers of such voyage, and ridiculing the imaginary, and dilating upon the honours and rewards which they would win by being the first bearers of the tidings they carried, a change from dismay to hope and confidence took place in the minds of all his hearers, excepting the African sailors, who did not much relish the idea of so long a voyage to Christian lands. They, however, were slaves and infidels, and their opposition was not much heeded. To every objection Botello had a plausible reply. He confidently asserted his knowledge of a safe route, and of his ability to preserve their little craft amid all the dangers of the sea. 'But may we not be forestalled in our news, after all,' demanded Alfonzo, by the vessels from Calicut?' 'No fear of that,' replied Botello. The news from Diu will not reach Calicut for a month, and then it will be too late in the monsoon to despatch a vessel, even if one were ready. Besides, I have certain information that the viceroy has determined that no despatches shall be sent home until he can announce the completion of the fort.' I like not this new route you propose,' said Juan. " Why leave the usual course to Melenda?' 'Because we should be in danger of exciting the suspicions of our brethren who now garrison the forts of Melenda, Zanzabar, and Mozambique, and perhaps be detained. No, we will take a more direct course-strike the coast of Africa below Sofalo, and then follow the shore around the Cape of Good Hope.' And what are we to do for provisions and water in the meantime?' Of provisions we have a store that will last until we reach land, when we can obtain supplies from the natives; as for water, we must go at once upon the shortest possible allowance, and daily pray for rain-St Francis will aid us. I can show you something that will set your minds easy upon that point.' Botello produced a box from beneath the stern sheets, and, opening it, took out with an air of reverence a leaden image of the saint. 'See this,' he exclaimed, in a tone of exultation. 'It was modelled from the portrait recognised by the aged Moor. Have you not heard of the miracle? True, you were not at Calicut. Know, then, that a few months since, a native of India was presented to the viceroy, whose reputed age amounted to three hundred years. His story was, that in early youth he encountered an aged man lingering upon the banks of a stream which he was anxious to pass. The youth tendered the support of his strong shoulders, and bore him across the water. As a reward for the service, the old man bade the youth to live until they should meet again. And thus had he lived, until a few months since he was presented to De Cunna, when he at once recognised in a portrait of St Francis the holy man whom he had carried across the stream. This image was modelled from that portrait; it was blessed by the pious convert in whose person was performed the miracle. Our voyage must be prosperous with this on board.' The sight of an image taken from a portrait acknowledged to be the saint himself, removed all doubt. And what Botello's arguments and persuasions might have failed to accomplish, was easily effected by the little image of lead. A heretic might perhaps have questioned the saint's power over the physical phenomena of the sea, but he could not have denied his moral influence over the minds of the adventurous voyageurs who confided in him. No hesitation remained, except in the minds of the four slaves, who, having been forcibly converted from the errors of Mahommed, were yet somewhat weak in the true faith. It was this want of faith that led to one of the most lamentable events of the voyage. They had been out more than a month without having had sight of land, and not even a distant sail had lighted up the dismal loneliness of the ocean. It must be recollected what a solitude was the vast surface of the Indian and Pacific seas in those days. Beside the Portuguese fleets, that followed each other at long and regular intervals, Christian commerce there was none, while Arabian trade was small in amount, and confined to certain narrow channels. The Moorish slaves had never before been so long on the open sea, and their fears increased as day after day the boat bore them farther to the south. The provisions were also, by this time, nearly exhausted, and the daily allowance of water proved barely sufficient to moisten their parched lips. The slaves, after taking counsel among themselves, demanded that the course of the boat should be arrested. And which way would you go?' asked Botello. 'Back to Diu? It would take three months to reach the port, and long ere that we should starve.' 'Let us steer, then, directly for the African coast. Melenda must be our nearest port.' 'Never!' returned the resolute Botello. I will run no risk of having our voyage frustrated by the jealousy of my old enemy, Alfonzo Peristrello, who has command at that station. Courage for a few days more, and we shall see land. There are isles hereaway that you will deem fit residences for the blessed saints-such fruits! such flowers!' The promises of Botello had influence with all of his companions except the Moors, whose muttered discontent suddenly assumed a fierce and menacing aspect. Luckily, Botello was as wary as he was brave. It was in the middle of the night, that, stretched upon the midship thwart of the boat, he noticed a movement among the Moors, who occupied the bow. One of them moved stealthily towards him, and, bending over him, cautiously sought the hilt of his dagger! but before he could draw it, the grasp of Botello was upon his throat, and he was hurled to the bottom of the boat. With a shout, the other Moors seized the boat-hooks and stretchers, and rushed upon Botello; but Juan and Alfonzo were upon the alert, and, drawing their long daggers, rushed to his defence. Never was there a more desperate conflict than on that starlit night, in that frail boat, that floated a feeble, solitary speck of humanity on the bosom of the vast Indian sea. The conflict was desperate, but it was soon over. The Portuguese of those days were other men than their degenerate descendants of the present age; and, besides, the slaves were overmatched both in arms and numbers. Three were slain outright, and the fourth driven overboard. One of the Portuguese servants was killed, thus diminishing the number of the voyageurs more than one-half-a lucky circumstance, without which, most probably, the whole would have perished. For a week longer, the little bark stood on its course, when a violent storm threatened a melancholy termination to the voyage. The wind, however, was accompanied by rain, and Botello kept up the spirits of his friends by attributing the storm to St Francis, who had sent it expressly to save them from dying by thirst. It would have been perhaps more easy to believe in the saint's agency in the matter, had there been less wind; for, in addition to the danger of being ingulfed by the heavy sea, their clothing, which they spread to collect the rain, was so deluged with salt spray as to make the water exceedingly brackish. Bad as it was, however, it served to maintain life until they reached a little rocky, uninhabited island in the channel of Mozambique. It was with some difficulty that a landing-place was found. Upon ascending the rocks, a few scattered palms exhibited the only appearance of vegetation. Their chief necessity-fresh water-however, was found in abundance, standing in the hollows of the rocky surface, where it had been deposited by the recent storm. Several kinds of wild fowl showed themselves in abundance, and so tame as to suffer themselves to be caught without any trouble; while crowding the little sandy inlets were thousands of the finest turtle. At this spot Botello and his companions rested for a week; which was spent in caulking and repairing their boat and sail, drying and salting the flesh of fowl and turtle, and in filling every available vessel with the precious fluid so liberally furnished by their patron, St Francis. A succession of storms followed their departure, and tossed them about here and there for so many days, that their reckoning became exceedingly confused. Botello, however, was an accomplished navigator, and his sailor instinct stood him in good stead. Upon returning fair weather, he conjectured that he was abreast of Cape Corientes, and the bow of the boat was directed, due east, for the African coast. Calms followed storms. The oars were got out, and day after day the clumsy boat was pulled through the long rolling swell of the glassy sea. Still no sight of land. Their provisions were getting short again-their water was reduced to the lowest possible allowance, and the labour of the oar was rapidly exhausting their strength. The image of St Francis was hourly appealed to. Sometimes his aid was implored in most humble prayerssometimes demanded with the wildest imprecations and threats. One day Botello seized the little St Francis, and whirling him on high, threatened to throw him into the sea, unless he instantly granted a sight of land; no land showed itself, and the saint was reverentially replaced in his box. But he was not to rest there long in quiet. The next day the ingenious Botello announced to his sinking companions that he had a plan to compel the saint to terms. The image was produced from its box, a cord was fastened around its neck, and it was then thrown overboard. Down went his leaden saintship into the depths of the ocean. And there he shall remain,' exclaimed Botello, until he sends us land or rain.' An hour had not expired when a faint bluish haze in the eastern horizon attracted all eyes. A favourable breeze springing up, the sail was hoisted, and as the boat moved under its influence, the haze grew in consistency and size. Land was in sight! The land proved to be a point in Lagoa Bay-a familiar object to Botello. Upon going ashore, a party of natives received him, with whom friendly relations were soon established, and from whom provisions and water were readily obtained. A few days served to recruit the exhausted strength of the party, when, taking again to their boat, they coasted along the shore, landing at frequent intervals, until they reached the dreaded Cape of Storms, as the southern point of Africa was called by its first discoverer, Bartholomew Diaz. The Cape did not belie its reputation. From the summit of Table Mountain, and the surrounding high lands, it sent down a gust that drove the unfortunate voyageurs away from the land a long distance to the south-west; and many weary and despairing days were passed before they were able to make the harbour of Saldahana. Here the chief necessity of life-fresh water-was found in abundance, and a supply of provisions obtained, consisting chiefly of the dried flesh of seals, with which the harbour was filled. A few orange and lemon-trees, planted by the early Portuguese discoverers, were loaded with fruit, and afforded a grateful and effectual means of removing the symptoms of scurvy which were beginning to appear. Saldahana being a resting-place for the outward-bound Portuguese fleets, Botello made his stay as short as possible, lest he should be intercepted and turned back by some newly-appointed and jealous viceroy. For the same reason, he avoided several points on the coast of western Africa where his countrymen had stations-keeping well out to sea and from the mouth of the Congo, and steering a direct course across the Gulf of Guinea. He knew that if a Portuguese admiral had sailed at the appointed time, he must be somewhere in that gulf, and that his tall barks would hug the shore, creeping from headland to headland slowly and cautiously. The energetic Botello and his companions had encountered too many dangers to be frightened at the perils of a run across the gulf, and the resolution was adopted to give the Portuguese fleet, by the aid of St Francis, the go-by in the open sea. The run was successfully achieved; not, however, without many weary days at the oar, and many an appeal to St Francis for favouring winds, and for aid in the sudden tornadoes which frequently threatened to ingulf them. Cape de Verd was reached; the barren shore of the great desert was passed, with but a simple stoppage in the Rio del Ouro-a slender arm of the sea setting up a few miles into the sands of Sahara. Here a few dates and some barley cakes were purchased of a family of wandering Arabs; and again putting to sea, the shores of Morocco were cautiously coasted. Without further adventure, but not without further suffering, and labour, and danger, the short remaining distance was passed. The head of the Straits of Gibraltar-the headlands of Spain-the southern point of Algarve, successively came in sight; and then the smiling mouth of the golden Tagus greeted their longing eyes. And thus was happily finished this wonderful voyagea voyage which, if performed in the present day, with all the means and appliances of navigation, would excite the admiration of the world, but which, under the circumstances of the age, the prejudices and ignorance of the voyageurs, and the imperfect state of maritime science, may truly be considered the most astonishing upon record. It must be observed, too, that this was no involuntary boat expedition-no desperate alternative of some foundering ship's crew-but the deliberate, carefully considered project of an experienced sailor; and that the hardihood evinced in its conception was surpassed by the resolution, perseverance, and skill with which it was conducted to its end. The presence of Botello was soon known to his friends; and the rumour spread through the city that an Indian fleet had arrived off the mouth of the Tagus. It reached the court, so that, on his application for an audience of the king, he found no detention except from the curiosity of the courtiers and ministers; which, however, he resolutely refused to satisfy, until he had communicated his news t the royal ear. Botello exhibited his copy of the convention with Badur, king of Cambaya, and the plans of the fort which was being erected at Diu, and related the history of his adventurous voyage. King John freely expressed his astonishment and delight, and calling around him the members of his household, familiarly questioned Botello as to all the little details of his voyage. There was a pause in the conversation. Botello threw himself upon his knees. There is one point,' he exclaimed, upon which your majesty has not condescended to question me. What is that?' demanded the king. 'My reasons,' replied Botello, 'for undertaking this long and hazardous voyage Your majesty knows, or at least many of your majesty's enemies know, that I am one not over cautious in confronting danger, either by sea or land; but I should never have had the courage to make myself the bearer of tidings, however important, as I have done, without some reason other than the desire of astonishing the world by a feat which by many will be pronounced simply foolhardy. Your majesty will believe me-I had another and a better reason.' 'And that reason was-' The favour of my sovereign, and the removal of the undeserved suspicions with which my motives and feelings had been visited.' 'Rise,' replied the king, extending his hand, and smiling graciously. Our suspicions were of the slightest. We will take some fitting opportunity of showing that they are gone for ever.' The courtiers overwhelmed Botello and his companions with congratulations. The king accompanied him to see the boat, and, upon dismissing him, renewed his assurances of favour and reward-assurances which Botello found were destined never to be realised. The next day a change had come over the royal countenance-the jealousy of trade had been aroused. It would be a terrible blow to the commercial monopoly, already threatened from so many quarters, to have it known that the voyage from the East Indies had been performed in an open boat. Botello was informed that, for reasons of state, his boat must be destroyed, but that he himself should ever continue to enjoy the favourable opinion of his sovereign. As an earnest of the royal favour, which was some day to exhibit itself more openly, he was appointed to an office of no great consequence, and which had also the disadvantage attached to it of a residence in the interior of the country. Once installed, he found that he was little better than a prisoner for life. His movements were closely watched by the officials around him; his communications with the capital cut off, and to all his remonstrances and petitions the only reply was, that the king's service required his continual residence in his department. Botello was not a man to quietly submit to such unjust restraint; but unluckily his health began to fail. His body found itself unable to withstand the chafings and struggles of his energetic and adventurous spirit under the mortifications and disappointments of his position; the fears and suspicions of the court of Lisbon were soon removed by his death. His boat had been burned-his companions had been sent back to India, and it was not long before the fact of his extraordinary voyage had passed from the public mind. DON'T HURRY. No, don't hurry. It's no sort of use. You wont get along half so fast. We never knew a fellow who was always in a hurry that wasn't always behind hand. They are proverbial the world over for bringing nothing at all to pass. And it's just what may be expected. Hurry, skurry, bluster, putter-what does it all amount to? Not a straw -not a shadow. Don't be in a hurry, we repeat. If you want to accomplish anything as it should be accomplished, do a thing as it should be done; you must go about it coolly, moderately, firmly, faithfully, heartily. Hurrying, fretting, fuming, sputtering, will do no good-not the least. Are great works or great men made in a hurry? Not at all. They are the product of time, patience—the result of slow, solid development. Nothing of moment is made in a hurry. Nothing can be-nothing ought to be. It's contrary to nature, reason, revelation, right, justice, philosophy, common sense. Your man of hurry is no sort of a character, or rather a very shiftless one. Always in confusion, loose at every point, unhinged and unjointed, blowing and puffing here and there; racing, ranting, staving, but all ending in smoke and gas. No, my dear sir, if you have anything to do, don't try to get at it in a hurry. Be sure if you do you'll have the matter all to go over again. Be quiet, calm, reasonable, and plan and act like a man. Then you'll bring something about, and in no other way. SENSE. Sense, if under the subjection of the spirit, is not hostile, but friendly. It is the sun that takes from the soul-waters, to return them again, in gentle and refreshing showers. THE TRANSMIGRATIONS OF IRON. The transmission of iron in a chemical form, through chalybeate springs, from deposits in which it had been diffused in a form merely mechanical, is of itself curious; but how much more so its passage and subsequent accumulation, as in bog iron, and the iron of the coal measures, through the agency of vegetation! How strange, if the steel axe of the woodman should have once formed part of an ancient forest !-if, after first existing as a solid mass in a primary rock, it should next have come to be diffused as a red pigment in a transition conglomerate then as a brown oxide in a chalybeate spring-then as a yellowish ochre in a secondary sandstone-then as a component part in the stems and twigs of a thick forest of arboraceous plants-then, again, as an iron carbonate, slowly accumulating at the bottom of a morass of the coal measures-then, as a layer of indurated bands and nodules of brown ore, underlying a seam of coal-and then, finally, that it should have been dug out, and smelted, and fashioned, and employed for the purpose of handicraft, and yet occupy, even at this stage, merely a middle place between the transmigrations which have passed, and the changes which are yet to come!-Hugh Miller's Old Red Sandstone.' FLETCHER AND HIS NEPHEW. The Rev. Mr Fletcher, of England, had a very wild and profligate nephew in the army, a man who had been dismissed from the Sardinian service for very bad conduct. He had engaged in two or three duels, and had spent all his money in vice and folly. The wicked youth waited one day on his eldest uncle, General De Gons, and, presenting a loaded pistol, threatened to shoot him unless he would that moment advance him five hundred crowns. The general, though a brave man, well knew what a desperate fellow he had to deal with, and gave a draft for the money, at the same time speaking freely to him on his conduct. The young man rode off in high spirits with his ill-gotten money. In the evening, passing the door of his younger uncle, Mr Fletcher, he called on him, and began by informing him what General De Gons had done; and, as a proof, showed a draft under De Gons' own hand. Mr Fletcher took the draft from his nephew, and looked at him with surprise. Then after some remarks, putting it into his pocket, said, 'It strikes me, young man, that you have possessed yourself of this note by seme wrong method; and in conscience I cannot return it but with my brother's knowledge and approbation.' The nephew's pistol was in a moment at his breast. My life,' replied Mr Fletcher, with perfect calmness, is secure in protection of an Almighty power; nor will he suffer it to be the forfeit of my integrity and your rashness.' This firmness drew from the nephew the observation, "That his uncle De Gons, though an old soldier, was more afraid of death than his brother.' 'Afraid of death!' rejoined Mr Fletcher, 'do you think I have been twenty-five years a minister of the Lord of Life, to be afraid of death now? No, sir, it is for you to be afraid of death. You are a gamester and a cheat; yet call yourself a gentleman! You are the seducer of female innocence; and still say you are a gentleman! You are a duellist; and for this you style yourself a man of honour! Look there, sir,' pointing to the heavens, 'the broad eye of Heaven is fixed upon us. Tremble in the presence of your Maker, who can in a moment kill your body, and forever punish your soul in hell.' The unhappy young prodigal turned pale, and trembled with fear and He still threatened his uncle with instant death. rage. Fletcher, though thus threatened, gave no alarm, sought for no weapon, and attempted not to escape. He calmly conversed with his profligate relative; and at length, perceiving him to be affected, addressed him in the kindest language, till he fairly disarmed and subdued him! He would not return his brother's draft, but engaged to procure for the young man some immediate relief. He then prayed for him; and, after fulfilling his promise of assistance, parted with him, with much good advice on one side, and many fair promises on the other. JOHN SMITH'S DIARY. It has certainly been said by some good authority (we never remember names), that if every man would but write down a daily record of his thoughts and actions, without gloss and comment, he would make the most instructive book ever compiled. With all due deference to the authority, whoever he may be, we don't agree with him. Take John Smith aforesaid, and imagine a page of his diary : : November 1. Got up at eight as usual. Shaving water half cold, cut my chin in consequence, swore a little; Mrs S. said she was shocked at such language; had breakfast; read the paper, no news; walked to the office; bought some wool in the market, which I expect to make pay; ate a sandwich for lunch; went on 'change, went home to dinner; Tommy has got the measles; cold mutton and rice pudding-we're always having these confounded things; time to go to bed; didn't think about anything particular to-day.' What an exciting, instructive, and beneficial book would three volumes of such stuff be! And yet who will deny that it presents a fair average picture of the daily life of John Smith in general.-Bentley's Miscellany for May, 1852. |