Since the foregoing narrative was written, the treatment of convicts has undergone considerable change, government having found the experiment of transporting the worse class of criminals from New South Wales to Norfolk Island to be a failure. The penal settlement was therefore broken up in 1855, and convicts are now confined in different establishments in the United Kingdom, where, without subjecting them to absolute silence or solitude, they are separated from the contaminating society of each other. Under the present system, it is a fixed principle never to allow, if at all possible, the punishment--while it may be made to any extent disagreeable--to injure either the body or the mind. THE SOLITARY ISLANDER. It was at the time Queen Anne began to reign, and her ships were carrying the English flag into all seas, for commerce, for discovery, or for war, when one of these vessels, called the _Clinque Ports_, put in to refit at the uninhabited island of Juan Fernandez, on the west coast of South America. It was but a small island, though fertile and pleasant; it had not been tilled or planted, neither had any place of shelter been built upon it, but sometimes two or three sick sailors had been left there to recover health, and sometimes a passing ship would put in for water, and departing leave one or two of their live-stock on the island. It had thus become stocked with goats, which ran wild about the hills and craggy rocks, free from any danger of pursuit and capture. This was not the first time that the _Clinque Ports_ had touched at Juan Fernandez, for not long before she had left there two seamen who were unable to continue their voyage, and now she had anchored to reship these men, to take in water, and to refit for the long and perilous voyage to the English shore. The two seamen, coming on board, told strange stories to their comrades of the pleasant life they had led on the island, of the hunt for goats, of the abundance of shell-fish, of the delicious fruits and vegetables, and of the cool waters of the place. Of all the eager listeners to these tales of plenty and delight, there was one who never failed to fasten on each word that was said, and by constant questioning, to learn every detail of the life on the green island which lay before them. This sailor was a Scotsman, named Alexander Selkirk or Selcraig. He was of an impatient, overbearing temper, and no favorite with his captain, who was not wise enough to discern the good sense and honesty which lay hidden under his rough and uncourteous manner. Thus it chanced that the Scotch Sailor was often in trouble and disgrace, and resenting bitterly a harshness he did not think he had deserved, he began to long to leave the ship at any cost. But perhaps the beginning of his misery and discomfort must be sought farther back in his life. His surly speech, his unsocial temper, spoke of a mind ill at ease,--the remembrance of the past made the present sad.