soldier," says the narrator," took on themselves this cruel execution: we turned our faces aside, and wept tears of blood over these unhappy men.' There was

now barely sufficient sustenance on the raft to last for eight days, at the expiration of which period death was inevitable. After this melancholy catastrophe, all the arms were wisely thrown into the ocean, only one sabre being reserved, in case it should be necessary to cut a rope, or a piece of wood.

An event, trifling in itself, but which naturally inspired them with hope and joy, now occurred. A small, white, butterfly was seen hovering round the raft, and, at length, it settled on the sail. This was greeted as an omen of their approach to the land. Yet, so terrible was the hunger which the sufferers felt, that some were anxious to catch the butterfly, that they might devour it; but others, considering it as a messenger from heaven, would not allow it to be injured. Shortly after, more butterflies appeared, and a bird, which latter they fruitlessly endeavoured to ensnare. More birds came in sight on the following days. The time was now past by the crew, in reciting their past adventures, and regretting the state of dependance to which their country was compelled to submit.

To their other torments was added that of a raging thirst, which was redoubled, in the day time, by the burning heat of the sun. To allay this thirst, the most disgusting fluids were eagerly drunk, and were contended for with a bitterness and violence which, more than once, were on the point of terminating in blows. Some put pieces of pewter in their mouths, to cool them; and others wetted their faces and hair with the salt-water. Delirium again spread its influence among them, and a combat was on the eve of being commenced, when their attention was luckily called off, by the appearance of a number of sharks, which surrounded them, and seemed to claim their prey. Though repeatedly beaten off with the sabre, these voracious monsters still persisted in keeping near to the raft. So desperate, however, were the crew, that some of them, in hopes of allaying their thirst, did not besitate to bathe in sight of their formidable enemies, while others placed themselves naked on the part of

the raft which was covered by the sea. But here ano ther misery was to be endured. A kind of polypus was driven in great numbers on the raft, and when their long arms clung to the naked body, they caused the most cruel sufferings.

On the eleventh day, believing themselves to be not far from land, eight of them resolved to construct a smaller raft, and try to reach the coast. A little mast and a sail were fixed up, and barrel-staves were con verted into oars. On trial, however, their new machine was found to be utterly unfit for its purpose; and the idea of using it was, of course, abandoned. Night came, and with it the gloomiest thoughts. The wine was almost exhausted, and they began to feel an invincible dislike, and a sort of terror, of the flesh which had hitherto supported them. It appeared probable that, in a very short period, their struggles and their woes would be ended by death.

The sun broke upon them, in unclouded splendour, on the twelfth day. They had just offered up prayers, and divided a portion of their wine, when the tops of the masts of a brig were faintly descried on the hori zon. In an instant, every heart was filled with gladness, not unmingled with fear; and handkerchiefs of different colours were hastily tied together, and waved as a signal from the summit of the mast. Half an hour was spent in all the agony of suspense. At times, the brig was supposed to be near them; at times, it seemed to recede. At length it became but too certain that it had disappeared. "From the delirium of joy," says M. Correard, "we fell into profound despondency and grief; we envied the fate of those whom we had seen perish at our side, and we said to our selves, When we shall be destitute of every thing, and our strength begins to forsake us, we will wrap ourselves up as well as we can, we will lay ourselves down on this platform, the scene of so many sufferings, and there we will await death with resignation. At last, to calm our despair, we wished to seek some consolation in the arms of sleep. The day before, we had been consumed by the fire of a burning sun; this day, to avoid the fierceness of his beams, we made a tent with the sails of the frigate: as soon as it was put up we

all lay down under it, so that we could not perceive what was passing around us. We then proposed to inscribe upon a board an account of our adventures, to write all our names at the bottom of the narrative, and fasten it to the upper part of the mast, in the hope that it would reach the government and our families."

Two hours had been passed in this state of hopeless supineness, when one of the crew quitted the tent, to go to the front of the raft. He had scarcely put his head out of the tent, when he uttered a loud cry, looked back on his companions, and stretching out his hands to the sea, almost inarticulately exclaimed, "We are saved! see! the brig is close upon us!" All rushed out, with beating hearts, to enjoy this delightful sight; and when they were convinced of the truth of the fact, they embraced each other with the wildest transports, and shed tears of joy. It was, indeed, the Argus brig, which was not more than half a league distant, and which was bearing down upon them with a press of sail. She soon came alongside, and "her crew, ranged on the deck, or in the shrouds, showed, by waving their hats and handkerchiefs, the pleasure they felt at coming to the assistance of their unhappy countrymen." In a few minutes the shipwrecked sufferers were conveyed on board the vessel, where they met with that kindness and assistance which were necessary to men in their exhausted state. Of the fifteen, however, who were taken from the raft, the sad remnant of one hundred and fifty persons, only eleven survived.

It is now necessary to show what was the fate of that part of the crew of the Medusa which was embarked in the boats. Two of the boats reached the Senegal, with comparatively small difficulty. The other four were not equally fortunate. By the winds and currents they were carried to a considerable distance from the point which was their destined port. They were driven on various parts of the coast, some at not less than eighty or ninety leagues from the Isle of St. Louis, and the men who were on board of them were exposed to the most dreadful fatigues and privations in crossing the burning desert of Zaara, a journey which one of the parties was sixteen days in performing. Their sufferings, however, great as they were, were not to be com

pared with those of the wretched victims whom they had abandoned, on the raft, to the mercy of the waves.

It has been already mentioned, that seventeen persons were left on board of the Medusa. The vessel had, it is true, struck, and nearly filled with water; but, as she was lying on a bank, she did not sink, and, consequently, while she held together, those who were on board of her were safe. As soon as the boats and the raft had quitted the Medusa, these seventeen men exerted themselves in collecting whatever articles of provision they could find; and they thus obtained a sufficient quantity of brandy, wine, biscuit, and bacon, to subsist them for a length of time. For forty-two days they remained peaceably on the wreck, hoping that assistance would arrive. Twelve of them then committed themselves to the winds and waves on a small raft, and were unfortunately lost. The fragments of their frail conveyance were found on the coast of the desert of Zaara. A single sailor, shortly after, madly attempted to reach the shore on a chicken-coop, and perished within half a cable's length of the wreck. Of the four who remained, one died in a few days. The three who were left, instead of clinging closer to each other, seemed to be inspired by the same fatal spirit that produced such horrible effects on the first of the rafts."These unhappy men occupied each a separate place, and never left it but to fetch provisions, which, in the last days, consisted only of a little brandy, tallow, and salt pork. When they met, they ran upon each other, brandishing their knives. As long as the wine had lasted, with the other provisions, they had kept up their strength perfectly well; but as soon as they had only brandy to drink, they grew weaker every day.” Their increased ferocity may also, in a great measure, be attributed to the malignant effect of the spirits. At length, when they had been fifty-two days in this situation, and when it was impossible for them to live more than forty-eight hours longer, they were saved by a vessel from Senegal, which had been despatched to endeavour to recover from the Medusa some money and valuable effects, and which had been twice driven back, by contrary winds, after having performed a part of her voyage.

R**