and retained there as a prisoner, was so galling to his nature—to a spirit panting and struggling to be free—that he formed the resolution (one most difficult to be put in practice) of deserting whenever the opportunity of doing so should occur: and such was the reckless daring of his disposition, that, watching the time when he was least observed by his messmates before the mast, he actually threw himself headlong overboard, and swam towards a Gibraltar privateer—a vessel of that class which, during the late war, were usually called _rock scorpions_ by our sailors. He was taken on board the privateer, and so for a short time he was the associate of an abandoned and a lawless set of robbers. But he was soon disgusted with their regardless, savage and brutal manners, and so embraced the first opportunity of leaving them, and of going again into the merchant service. While, however, he was on board the Rock Scorpion, she had sustained an engagement, in which our hero was severely wounded by a grape-shot—an accident by which his body was seamed and scarred in a frightful manner, and which, had it happened to his face or his limbs, must have rendered him deformed or lame for life. SECT. IV.—THE MANNER IN WHICH HE WAS PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF A MIDSHIPMAN IN THE ROYAL NAVY. After he had left the privateer he was soon discovered, and brought back to the Renommée frigate as a deserter. It is mentioned in the “Sketch,” which says nothing of the rock scorpion adventure, that when Clapperton first joined the Renommée frigate, which was commanded by Sir Thomas Livingstone, having heard that his uncle, a captain of marines on board his Majesty’s ship Saturn, which had arrived at Gibraltar for the purpose of watering and refitting, he sent him a letter describing his situation on board the Renommée; that his uncle having previously been a messmate of her captain, Sir Thomas Livingstone, interfered with him in behalf of his nephew, and through his interest got him promoted to the rank of a midshipman.[7] All we can say to this statement is, that Clapperton himself, whose heart was most grateful, never spoke of a letter he had written to his uncle, nor that he was in any way indebted to that gentleman for his promotion in the navy. He seems never to have seen his uncle till he met him in London after he had engaged to go with Dr. Oudney to Africa. In a letter to a friend, dated London, 1st September 1821, he says, “my uncle has been to see me several times, and was truly kind. He is a perfect gentleman, without any nonsense.” Now, the correspondent to whom he thus writes, declares that Clapperton never mentioned to him that he had ever written to his uncle, soliciting his interest in his favour, or that he was in any respect indebted to him, in the first instance, for his promotion in the navy. But while he said nothing to his friend of his uncle in connexion with this matter, he frequently