Thou slumber'st 'mid the waves serene Till Triton winds his bugle keen To wake the drowsy tenants of the deep. Oh, what a happy life is thine, In sea and air to gleam and shine, And ocean is to sleep beguiled; Then rocked upon a mimic wave, Thus thou liv'st in joy and pleasure, In care and sorrow without measure, * Vide Note, p. 53. W. F. N.* SUICIDE, AND BURIAL AT SEA. THE burial of the dead under any circumstances is always a mournful scene, but when the last sad obsequies take place at sea, the ceremony is more than usually solemn and impressive. In the present instance these effects were heightened by the melancholy associations inseparably connected with the fate of our poor unfortunate brother, who committed suicide by strangling himself with his handkerchief. He was a person above middle age, of a desponding temperament, possessing apparently little mental vigour, as he seemed totally incapable of shaking off the dull apathy which rendered him averse to all exertion. If he had laboured to fortify his mind against the evils which beset us all in our journey through life, he would doubtless have acquired fortitude and resignation. Unhappily, however, an exile, he sought no refuge from the gloomy prospects which clouded his mind, in the hopes and consolations of religion; nor did he appear to have accepted the merciful invitation of our Saviour, who graciously calls upon all who are weary and heavy laden to come to Him, and he will give them rest. That earnest exhortation was unheeded. Chilling despair had probably excited a temporary insanity, under the influence of which he committed the rash act. The weather, which had been for some days squally, with occasional rain, cleared up on the morning of the 23d of May, and a tropical sun shone brightly overhead, while its reflected rays danced on the foaming waves. Our ship, under double-reefed topsails, was pursuing her trackless path through a heavy rolling sea, at the rate of seven or eight knots an hour. At 11 A.M. preparations for the burial commenced. The body, previously rolled up in the bed-clothes of the deceased, as is customary at sea, was placed upon a grating in the lee gangway. The bell began tolling in slow measured tones, calling back remembrances of home scenes we had left, perhaps for ever. All being ready, our chaplain advanced from the cabin door uncovered, when immediately all on deck followed his example. Profound silence reigned throughout the ship, which but a few moments before resounded with mirth and idle conversation. Impressed with the solemnity of the occasion, the seamen and soldiers paid the greatest attention, and even the children on the quarterdeck gazed on the scene with countenances expressive of awe. The utterance of our worthy chaplain was at times rendered inaudible by the splashing of the waves against the sides of the vessel; but again, clear and distinct, it was heard above the hoarse roar, and particularly when he came to repeat that beautiful portion of our burial service, "Man that is born of woman has but short time to live, and is full of trouble." On coming to that part of the service which says, "We therefore commit his body to the deep," the grating was gently raised, and the corpse was plunged into the ocean, there to be resolved into its primary elements, until that awful day when the sea shall give up its dead, and when both soul and body shall be summoned to appear at the tribunal of the Great Judge. Since the events of which this narrative treats, we have to deplore the loss of two more of our number by death. The first, an infant of only a few weeks old, whose short-lived existence recalls to mind the simple but touching words of the Psalmist, so applicable at all times, where the fleeting duration of life is compared to a fading flower," In the morning it is green, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered." The second, a promising young man, who was suddenly called into eternity without a moment's preparation. The lamentable circumstances attending his death have been already noticed, and therefore do not require to be repeated. "Alas it is often But the twink of an eye, the draught of a breath, J. F. [J. F. was a native of London, aged twenty-six, by trade a barber, married, with one child. He was convicted of assisting another individual to rob a lady in a railway carriage, and for this, his first offence, sentenced to ten years' transportation. Previously to his embarkation he had undergone nearly four years' imprisonment, of which ten months were passed in "separate confinement," and two and a half years in the hulks on "public works." This man firmly asserted his innocence, without conveying a conviction of his veracity. His moral principles appeared to be regulated merely by expediency, and thus constituted no trustworthy basis. Although exemplary in his external religious observances, he was discovered evincing a predilection for the more worthless of his fellow-prisoners, which may always be accepted as an infallible guide to the real character of the individual. His punishment had, however, in all probability effected a most salutary change in his mental constitution. Naturally facile and reckless, solitude and discipline had converted him into a thinking considerate person, who regulated his conduct, if by no higher, at least by a principle of much social importance-that of utility. He appeared clearly to understand that crime invariably brought its own punishment, and was thus diposed to avoid it, not because it was evil, but from the personal pain it occasioned. From the ability displayed in the preceding piece, we should hardly believe the writer had received an education that scarcely extended beyond reading and writing; yet such was the fact. We observe in this the vast importance of solitude in forming the mind, and giving it a power of reflection. It appears to us very improbable that a person nearly uneducated, and engaged either in physical labour or trifling pursuits, as the prisoner was before his offence, could so arrange his thoughts, and so express them. We are therefore disposed to consider "separate confinement" as a most beneficial means, if not for instilling religious ideas, at least for conferring a habit of employing the reason on subjects of everyday life. If this faculty has been implanted, society has gained a protecting power of a high order, although it may fall far below that arising from true religion. We may also place a very considerable reliance on the permanence of that principle which the corruptive influence of the hulks failed to destroy.] WEEKLY RECORD. On the morning of the 14th we passed Tristan d'Acunha, so named from its Portuguese discoverer. It is the largest and most northerly of a group of three islands, and is about twenty miles in circumference, and above eight thousand feet in height. As we saw it shrouded in |