previous uncertainty. Therein she solemnly declared her conviction that the declarations thus made were, if not wholly a fabrication, at any rate not made by her own son, but by some one who had been suborned to personate her unfortunate child. The most remarkable circumstance in confirmation of this opinion, was the fact that the papers signed Robert Jeffrey were marked with a cross, as is usually with persons who cannot write their name; whereas it was averred that Jeffrey was a good scholar, and it was unlikely that he should pretend ignorance of the art of writing.

The public now appeared determined to bring, by any means, the whole subject to an issue, and to obtain information as to whether the lad was really dead, or was yet living. Those in authority found that it was high time to take some decisive steps to decide the question; and in a short time a ship, under the command of a captain in the navy, was on her way to Boston with the necessary documents, to find out the young man, and, if living, to bring him home. At length the vessel returned, to put a final end to the suspense as to the man's destiny. The notice of her arrival was accompanied by the following announcement in the "Morning Post," newspaper

"Jeffrey, the seaman, was this day discharged from the navy, by order of the lords commissioners of the Admiralty. He was immediately brought on shore, and set off for London."

Thus was this long pending and much-agitated question finally settled by the appearance of the young man himself. A thousand inquiries were now of course put to him about his adventures; to most of which the following narrative was the answer.

At first he was altogether unable to believe that it was intended to abandon him in that destitute condition, upon an island which the men who brought him there knew to be uninhabited and unproductive. Vain hope! He saw her white sails unfurling and filling out with wind, and perceived that the distance between her and the island was rapidly increasing; and then, as she became a speck on the

mighty waters, then only did he give himself up to overwhelming despair as the awful reality of his fate came home to his mind. For two whole days he suffered dreadfully from thirst, and deeply, though less distressingly, from the cravings of hunger. To allay the fever which consumed him, he drank a considerable quantity of salt water, which however, only rendered his sufferings more intense. Death was now before him, when most providentially a refreshing shower of rain fell, and the quantity which remained in the crevices of the rocks supplied him so long as he remained on the island. But he was at some difficulty in drinking it, for it lay in such shallow pools, or in such narrow fissures, that it was at first perplexing how to avail himself of the precious gift. The idea at length entered his mind of sucking it out with a quill, and as the island abounded in birds, he was at no loss to find one suitable for his purpose. Inserting one end of this into the crevices, he was able to suck sufficient to quench his thirst, feeling inexpressibly grateful for this most opportune blessing. He saw a great number of birds of the gull kind, rather larger than a goose, and attempted to catch some, but in vain. He then hunted for their eggs, but he could only find one, which had probably lain there for months, for it was in such an offensively putrid state, that, fainting as he was, he could not touch it.

The only food he had, if it could be called food, was some bark, which he was so fortunate as to find cast upon the sea shore. At length greatly to his joy, he saw a vessel in the distance. With an exulting heart he watched her emerge, sail after sail, from the blue horizon. When her hull rose above the line he was half wild with delight; and plucked forth his handkerchief, he waved it incessantly, every moment expecting some signal to indicate that he had been perceived. The great ship, with a load of wealth and life, took no heed of the poor outcast, and "passed by him on the other side," at a distance too great for him to be discerned by those on board. Another and another ship hove in sight, and passed away, leaving him to his tears and hunger, and despair. Altogether, five vessels were de

scribed by him, each leaving him more cast down than before. He had now despaired of rescue, and fainting through hunger, he sank down upon the shore.

But relief was at hand. An American vessel, passing nearer the island than usual, was hove-to at the command of the captain, in order that he might examine the birds which were flying in great numbers around. On landing, the men discovered our perishing seaman, carried him in all haste to the boat, and by kind judicious treatment, speedily restored him to perfect health. He was thus delivered from his imminently perilous situation, conveyed to Marblehead, where his story excited at once the indignation and active compassion of the people, who soon supplied him with clothes, work, and wages. There he had peaceably spent this interval of time; and while England was ringing with his name, he was pursuing his humble occupation, wholly ignorant of the tumult his case was exciting at home.

Immediately on his arrival in London, Robert Jeffrey became one of the metropolitan lions, and was for some time visited by crowds of persons, much to his pecuniary advantage.

The meeting between Jeffrey and his mother was particularly interesting. At first she gazed upon him with a kind of bewildered anxiety, as if doubtful whether she could trust what she saw. Her son that was dead was alive again, "he that was lost was found." In a few moments she recovered herself, and they rushed into each other's arms.

In concluding this curious history, we wish we could authoritatively explain what may seem to require clearing up. We have heard that the tomahawk handle turned out to be a part of a fisherman's hatchet; and it was surmised that the tattered trowsers never belonged to Jeffrey at all. Perhaps the signing with a mark was the effect of a momentary caprice. Beyond this, after a diligent search, we were unable to discover any explanation of the circumstances which, for the time being, produced so much perplexity. If this had been fiction, it would have been easy to have invented a key to the lock; as it is, we leave it to

our readers, with the simple assurance that the narrative in all its particulars is exactly as it is to be found in the newspapers of the period.-Chambers' Journal.

LETTER FROM THE REV. JOSEPH TOWNEND.
CHRISTMAS-DAY IN AUSTRALIA.

To the Scholars of the Wesleyan Methodist Association
Sabbath-schools.

Collingwood, Melbourne, Australia,
27th December, 1852.

MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,-I now live in the southern hemisphere; and here it is much warmer and drier than in England. Here, at Christmas, it is midsummer; and the days are longer than at any other part of the year. Our shortest day is light at five o'clock in the afternoon; and it is dusk at half-past eight in the evening of our longest day.

Whilst I am writing, clouds of dust darken my study, and the weather is very hot. The evenings and mornings are very fine and cool, except when the hot wind blows; which is about one day in the week during our summer. These hot winds bring clouds of dust, and produce great lassitude. Frequently, the wind will suddenly change, and there will be a hurricane of wind and dust which will last a few minutes; then a cool soft breeze from our noble bay will give hilarity and cheerfulness to all persons. Christmas-day, this year, was comparatively cool and very fine. I was awakened at a little past five in the morning by some of our friends, newly arrived, singing at my door

"While shepherds watch their flocks by night,

All sitting on the ground."

The singing was very sweet, and the morning most delightful, about as light as it is with you in July at four o'clock in the morning. The shops were closed, and public worship was held in the different chapels and churches.

Tea-meetings, and holiday scenes as in England; except that many felt sorrowful when they thought of absent and far distant relatives and other friends. Our time here is much before yours, for when, at ten o'clock at night, you retire to rest, it is about eight o'clock in the morning with us, and we are about sitting down to breakfast.

I think it is right to keep a day in memory of the birth of Jesus. Remember that "this is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."

A young man just arrived in our country from Lancashire, brought me, on Christmas-day, 1852, a vote of thanks and expression of goodwill from one of our Sabbath-schools in Lancashire, for my last letter to the teachers and scholars in the Association. O, how charming to know that I have their sympathies and prayers. May heaven bless and reward them for all their kindness to me.

Our Sabbath-school in Collingwood is doing very well; and we expect, very soon, to build a new chapel. Some of you may think you would like to emigrate to this golden country; but you should know that gold-digging is very difficult - dangerous and arduous employment: and although wages are very high in Australia, other things are as dear in proportion. Here you must give from threepence to sixpence for an egg; one shilling for a quart of milk; and, for a house that would let for two shillings per week in an English county-town, here you would have to pay two pounds per week. The old adage is true, as applicable to this country, "all is not gold that glitters." Still this is a fine country, and sober and steady people have, upon the whole, a good chance of doing well in temporal matters; yet, some even of these would be glad to be back again in England.

Young people sometimes grow impatient of restraint, and break loose from parental instruction and oversight. Many such young persons have come to this country. It is, therefore, very important that you should send out pious and zealous ministers, who can, with the blessing of