whale, swam quickly up to the floating monster, and seizing the harpoon still sticking in it, raised himself up at the very moment when a piercing shriek sounded close behind him. In horror he turned round; the cry for help was too agonising; but he felt as if stabbed to the heart when he saw, at no great distance from him, the dark dorsal fins of two sharks, which shot greedily back and forwards, while the gurgling in the water just behind him, and the lashing of the waves, betrayed the spot where one of his comrades was fighting the fight of death in the merciless clutches of a third brute.

Here and there a few of the unhappy men belonging to the boat were still floating on oars and planks, but only three were left of the merry fellows who, but a few minutes before, had boldly looked danger in the face, and now the hyænas of the deep were revelling beneath them. Of what avail was the powerless blow of the arm aimed at them, or the yell of despair? It was music in the ears of the cold fearful monsters, with their catlike eyes and giant strength; and the bloody foam which at the next moment floated on the surface of the water was the cerecloth of the unhappy men, and revealed their grave.

"That is fearful!" groaned Patrick, who had hardly strength enough to keep on the back of the whale that still offered him protection; "fearful thus to die, and no help!" And his eye sought desperately across the watery waste for the saving ship, which was tacking to pick up the other boats, far, far away on the horizon. And when they missed him, and sought for him, and could not find the boat with the glass, and sailed about for days in search of him, of what avail would that be to him? Only hours, minutes, perhaps, were allotted to him, and his murderers were bounding in their insatiate greed after their prey. Shudderingly he concealed his face in his hands, almost forgetting his own peril, not to see the death-struggles of his comrades around him, which was only a counterpart of what awaited him; but the hissing and beating of the waves compelled him at last, with that instinct of self-preservation which clings to a straw, to think of his own salvation, or at least to defer his fate as long as was possible, in order to leave room for any possibility of help. The harpoon in the back of the whale, which he drove still deeper into the blubber, offered him a support to keep him on the slippery, smooth mass. For, although he thought once or twice about cutting out the head and using it as a weapon of defence against the greedy sharks, still he immediately gave up the idea again. Once washed into the sea, even the sharp steel would be no protection against the agile shark, which would infallibly seize its prey eventually, and then draw him down in spite of all the wounds it might receive. But one thing he could do. The handle of the harpoon, a short, stout oak stick of about two inches in diameter, was still firmly fixed in the steel; this he pulled out, cut it away from the line with the lanyard-knife every sailor wears on his person, and then fastened the cord to the ring of the harpoon. And while he twisted the cord tightly round his left hand to have a better holdfast, he seized the shaft with renewed confidence, and awaited with tightly-clenched teeth and flashing eyes the attack of the foe, which, however, was deferred for some time.

The sharks were satiated for a while, and played in the streams of blood which stained the water around, rather than sought for fresh prey:

they tried at times to catch hold of the slippery, broad carcase of the whale, or swam lazily or sleepily among the fragments of the boat, seizing a plank and holding it for a while between their teeth, and then pushing it before them with their round, spade-shaped upper jaw. The weather, fortunately, was quiet and calm, and the rippling waves, in which the whale rose and sank, washed over Patrick, but not one of the sharks had come near enough to scent him, or, if it had done so, had it noticed him; and he hoped, perhaps, that he would be able to hold his own unassailed until the ship could come up to save him, or, at least, send its boats. But where was the ship? Father of mercy! there was no prospect of release for a long, long while. For even at the distance he then was, it could not escape the sailor's practised eye that it was keeping away from him. The other boats, therefore, had caught their fish, and with their booty alongside, would not be able to look after him. At the same time, the sun burnt, hot and scorching, on his forehead, and his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. Water!-the limpid waves bathed his feet, and should he perish of thirst? He knelt down and washed his forehead and temples, and eyes and lips, in order to have a slight refreshment, and then he bound his handkerchief round his head for he had lost his hat at the destruction of the boat-in order to protect it in some measure from the scorching beams.

Through this movement, however, the attention of one of the sharks must have been attracted to him, or else, though satiated and oversatiated, it could not resist its desire for more prey; for just as he raised his hands, he noticed that one of the largest dark fins, which projected above the water, was swimming in a direct line towards him. He had, in fact, scarcely time to raise himself, and prepare his weapon for defence, when a tremendous fellow of some thirteen feet in length shot up to him, and tried to turn over on the back of the whale, and pluck off what was still upon it. But with the danger, all the sailor's daring courage returned to him, and swinging the heavy shaft in his hand, and holding the rope firmly in the other, he struck the head of the monster such a powerful and well-directed blow that the shark, half stunned, slipped off the whale and sank ere it could prepare for a renewal of hostilities, or perhaps make up its mind to such a serious step.

But other sharks had been attracted by the noise and splashing, and although they did not dare an immediate attack on the bold mortal who ventured to withstand them in their native element, still they continually swam in narrower circles round the spot where he was sitting, and once or twice came so near that Pat gave them one or two hearty blows across the jaws, to teach them to be respectful to him and keep their proper distance. But the shark is a greedy, obstinate brute, and, even if dangerously wounded, always returns to any booty it has once scented, as long as it retains the necessary strength. So it was in this instance. Again and again the heavy stick was required to teach them that there was nothing here for them to fetch-at least, so long as the young Irishman felt himself strong enough to struggle against hunger and thirst, the scorching sunbeams, and the constant, fearful excitement of his nervous system in the tremendous danger that ever surrounded him.

And the ship-no hope of salvation thence! Deeper and deeper sank the sun, and the ship lay far to windward, with its brightly glistening

sails. But the beasts that swam around him became more and more ravenous, and tried in vain to drive their teeth into the tough skin of the sperm fish; and when the stars were lighted, and gradually illumined the whole sky, even as far as the bright strip which still lay on the western horizon, he watched the glistening beams shooting athwart the limpid waves, as the sharks swam restlessly backwards and forwards, and the peril that beset him grew worse with the night.

He clearly saw the lights of his vessel hung out for him-he even noticed, when it grew quite dark, the bright glimmer of the blubberlamps, and even the pale light which came from the stoves of the oil tryers, and were reflected in the idly-flapping sails. But what availed that to him? How could he hope to be seen from the ship in the darkness, and to be saved from his fearful position? and would merely human strength be able to endure it till the next morning? He was no longer strong enough even to keep on his feet, and sought to find some little relief in kneeling down for a minute, or so long as the approaching sharks permitted, upon his extraordinary float, and attempting to stretch himself at full length, even though it might be in the water. Fruitless hope! his tormentors left him no rest, and the danger of being surprised, seized, and pulled down to a certain death, was too imminent to allow him to await their attack. The most greedy of the brutes, a young fish of scarcely more than eight feet in length, once went so far as to seize the harpoon, and held it sufficiently long to be left half dry upon the sperm by the retiring wave; but the oak stick struck it such a fearful blow across its treacherous, crafty-lookng eyes, that the shark glided off the slippery whale, turned up its white stomach, and sank. But others took the brute's place, and only the glistening streak in the dark water revealed their approach, and warned the unhappy man to prepare himself for the renewed attack.

Hour after hour thus passed in this fearful contest for life; but fresh hope was aroused in him when the ship drew nearer and nearer to him, and the signal-guns clearly and distinctly reached his ear. At last he was able to recognise the forms on deck, as they moved backwards and forwards in the flickering light. "Ahoy-ho-ahoy!" his wild despairing cry was wafted across the waters, as his comrades drifted slowly past without noticing him-"ahoy!"

Again was he compelled to defend his life, for the sharks, attracted by the sound of a human voice, came up from all sides, and their dark dorsal fins cleft the surface of the water in every direction. His blow fell repeatedly, and the end of the tough shaft was already splinteredblows which would have felled an ox, but produced no further effect upon the shark than to make it retire for a little while. And the ship? there it drifted, almost within hail. Again a signal-gun reached his ear, and he again employed the ensuing pause to send his cry for assistance across the waves to the spot where salvation lay, so near, and yet so unattainable. But the wind came from that quarter; though he could so distinctly hear the sound of the gun, and even distinguish the different voices on deck, he was unable to make them hear him. He only made his enemies around more and more active and rapacious, and their attacks became almost incessant.

His strength, his good spirits-which had till now been kept up by the March-VOL. CIII. NO. CCCCXI.

Σ

hope of salvation-sank, when he saw the ship drift past-sank, when no means were left him to announce his proximity. The love of life alone kept him upright, and urged him to defend it against the savage brutes until his last breath.

Thus night passed away. The southern cross turned slowly-very slowly to the West, and day at length broke in the far-distant East. He saw it all; he saw the sun rising from its ocean-bed, recognised the contour of his vessel, the graceful masts, and the bellying sails, attempted to make a last attempt to announce his existence, and tried to pull off his shirt and wave it in the air-a signal certain to be seen by the look-out at the mast-head-but he was not able to do it. His limbs were stiff and rigid, even his voice refused its service, and he could only produce a hoarse, gurgling sound; his eyes burned, his head went round and round, and a new wild idea, like a Will-o'-the-wisp upon the broadly-spreading sea, struck him and seemed to expel all else-every thought of help or salvation, every hope. He began to look out among the sharks that incessantly swam round him for the one on which he should hurl himself, and which he intended to destroy along with himself, by means of the sharp knife he wore. Again and again had this one attacked him, and allowed him neither peace nor rest, for even an hour at a time; again and again, although received by fierce blows and driven back, it returned, the most rapacious of the rapacious band, and revenge he determined to have on that enemy.

But his strength deserted him, the painful excitement of his mind and body threatened to overpower him, and although the sharks had not renewed their attack since daybreak, though they still kept round the dead whale-for they felt that he must soon become their prey without further trouble-he had fallen on his knees, and, half unconscious, only followed with his glance the dark, threatening fins. He had utterly forgotten the ship.

The loud halloa of the sailors that came to save him first aroused him from his lethargy; he saw the boat, but he could scarcely comprehend, it seemed, what it all meant, or where he actually was. But he raised himself once again, felt himself supported by friendly arms, greeted by cheering, encouraging words, and sank back in a fainting condition. The harpooner had received orders that, on arriving at the dark spot which had been seen from deck, if he found it was a dead whale, he was to give a signal by waving a white flag he had taken with him, and remain there till the other boats could be sent to his assistance to take the dead fish in tow. But they had not expected to find a single, half-dead messmate upon it. He therefore He therefore gave the signal and stuck the flag into the body of the dead whale, in order that the other boats might find the spot, and then rowed with the saved man, as fast as he could, to the vessel. Three of the sharks, which were not inclined to let their prey be so easily torn from them, followed the boat, and were severally lamed and killed by the harpooner, who could easily imagine how they must have terrified and tormented his messmate.

And so ends my story about a whale. The reader may remark to himself that it is 66 very like a whale!" but, mind! I do not vouch for its authenticity. I only tell the tale as 'twas told to me.

L. W.

A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS OF THE WAR.

BEFORE we plunge headlong into the Crimea-before we, in the words of the old nursery adage, open our mouths, shut our eyes, and

see what will be sent us," as it is too much to be feared the British government did-suppose we consider a few of the immediate antecedents of the War. We are not going to enter into a long, dry, and laboured dissertation on the policy of the present Czar, from his succession in 1825 up to the year 1853, but leave our readers to consult Alison's Second Series of "Europe" from 1815 to 1853, Urquhart's "Russia," or the many other histories which treat on this subject, and shall take a cursory glance at a few matters of interest not hitherto discussed in this way. It would be no flattery to any person's capacity to tell him that this war in which we are now engaged is denominated by the Czar a religious war "*-the Crescent of Mahomed against the Cross of Christ-and it is by working on the superstitions of his barbarous and benighted hordes, by promising a place in Paradise to those who fall in battle, and by giving a plentiful supply of raki, that he brings his soldiers to face the armies of England and France combined. less would we enact the flatterer were we to attempt to show our readers the blasphemous falsehood of the Emperor's assertion that the war—a war purely to gratify his own lust of ambition and conquest-was one of defence of the true religion, or that England and France, Christians in name, soul, and mind, would ever draw a sword but for the true faith.

66

Still

The actual religion, however, professed by the Russian Church, which is not exactly that of the Greek Church, may not perhaps be equally as well understood by our readers, and it is to this head we first wish to turn their attention. The Greek Church, like the Latin one, acknowledges ONE supreme, under the name of "The Father"-the Pope-but, unlike the latter hierarchy, he is not chosen for any peculiar sacred characteristic; for any polemic talent in a clerical sense; nor any ascetic line of conduct for which he is justly conspicuous. No! like the senators in the Upper House of our British constitution, this clerical dignity is hereditary in Russia, and at this time devolves on a demon incarnate, who with "mild eyes" and specious mien devastates the world with battle, murder, and sudden death! The high pontiff, then, of the Russian Church is the Czar, and the doctrines his "flock" are bound to acknowledge are, that his spiritual power is as omnipotent as his temporal; that he, Nicholas, has the same plenary power to forgive all sins and wickednesses as is delegated to the Pope of Rome; and he arrogates to himself, in his

* In proof of this, we subjoin a portion of the Czar's manifesto, issued at St. Petersburg, Feb. 9, 1855:-" We fulfil the first of our duties, by invoking the support of the Almighty, with entire faith in His grace, and full confidence in the love of our subjects, animated by the same feelings of devotion to our creed, to our orthodox Church, and to our dear country. . . . . More than once have we experienced painful trials. Yet, menaced Russia always found her salvation in her humble reliance on Heaven, in the ties uniting the Sovereign to his beloved subjects; and, as formerly, so it will be now. God, who reads hearts, blesses your intention, and will grant you his aid."