a second New Bedford ship bound to the South Seas. She cruised off New Zealand, and then proceeded to the Australian Bight. Whilst in these latitudes, this young man fell from the maintop into the waist boat, and displaced his ribs. A few days after the accident we fell in with her, and I went aboard and set them. We saw no more of the ship or him for a long time, when one day, whilst we were gammoning with the Colonial ship Pacific, I was surprised at seeing the self-same individual step aboard from her boat, well and hearty, having perfectly recovered from his injury. He told me that being weak for some time after he was hurt, his captain had left him ashore at Stewart’s Island, with sufficient for all his wants, promising to call at a certain time. The ship not making her appearance at the stated period, and being perfectly recovered, he became weary of inactivity, and on the Pacific’s touching at the island, he joined her, throwing away several hundred dollars which were his proportion of his former ships (the Alexander) earnings. The Alexander touched at the island a few weeks after, but found the bird flown, to the captain’s regret, as the missing individual was one of his most useful men. He continued in the Pacific for five or six months, and on her touching a second time at the island, deserted from her and married the girl whom the cooper was desirous that I should mate with. Thus this youngster, scarce arrived at manhood, had, in the course of two years, left his home, and been a member of three ships, married twice, and at the last account of him was snugly anchored in an out of the way nook in the South Pacific, thousands of miles from his kindred, who know nothing of his whereabouts, neither are they likely to, without, amongst his other freaks, he should attempt that of returning home. Thus it is, a free life on the salt water certainly engenders this unsettled, roving tendency. A sailor considering himself at home in every clime; well-knowing that however little employment there may be for other professions, the ways of commerce will always supply him with a berth sufficient to provide for all his wants. The better the seaman, generally, the more wild and reckless are his frolics; never learning wisdom, or staying his rollicking career, until the blue waves of old ocean close over his sinking form, or he is hove down in some foreign hospital, a prey to disease brought on by his own imprudence. His life ebbs out, amongst strangers, when, if at home, his sick couch would be surrounded by kind friends, or, perhaps, a fond mother or sister, who, at the dictates of affection, would minister to his dying wants, and smooth his dreary passage with all the comforts procurable by affection.