r would be willing to give me my discharge, whether I should
join another ship lately come out, and thus, by saving the long voyage
home and back, more speedily accomplish what was now the aim of my
existence--to make a sum sufficient to enable me to remain at home for
the rest of my days. I was now advancing in life. I had seen a great
deal of hard service, and I began to long for rest. Such is the desire
implanted in the bosom of all men--rest for the mind, rest for the body,
rest for the soul. In youth, when health, and vigour, and animal
spirits are at their highest, it is not developed, but when age comes
on, and the body begins to feel the symptoms of decay, the mind grows
weary and the spirits flag. Then rest is sought for--rest is looked for
as the panacea for all evils. Yet who ever found rest in this world--
perfect tranquillity and joy? No one. Still that such is the fact I
had yet to learn. Yet, would a beneficent Creator have implanted the
desire in the human heart without affording the means of gratifying it?
Certain I am that He would not; but thus, in his infinite wisdom, he
shows us the vanity of this world, and points to another and a better,
where assuredly it may be found.

I took an opportunity of mentioning the subject of my thoughts to the
captain, and he promised me that, if no other of the crew left when the
ship was full, should we fall in with another wanting hands, he would
comply with my wish, and, moreover, invest my share of the profits of
the voyage as I might direct.

We had been for some time on the ground I have spoken of when we found
ourselves in a perfect calm. By slow degrees the usual sea went down,
and even the swell of the mighty ocean subsided. The crew sat lazily
about the deck--some making air-nets for hats, others pointing ropes,
working a mouse, or making a pudding, or a dolphin, or turning in a
gasket; some leaned idly over the rail, and others slept still more idly
below; while a few, not altogether unmindful of our old shipmate's
instructions, were bending over their books or using their pencils.
Some also were carving with their knives strange devices on bones, or
cutting out rings from the shell of the tortoise.

"Ah, I wish we had Ned Newman aboard here!" exclaimed one. "He would
soon set us all alive."

"Why can't you set yourselves alive?" said Tom Knowles, looking up from
his work on a rope he had in hand. "Idle chaps are always talking of
getting