drawings: the first shows the apartment in which the worms are fed, and the manner in which the little trays containing them are arranged. In the second, the cocoons being completed by the insect, are being cleared of dirt and dead leaves, before they are removed from the frames on which they had spun. The third represents the winding off the silk into singles, but the windster appears for the moment to have left her post for the purpose of blowing the fire. In the fourth engraving, a Chinese silk-loom, is shown; the figure seated above, among the machinery, appears to assist the labour by means of her weight.

WINDING THE SILK FROM THE COCOONS.

CHINESE MODE OF WEAVING THE SILK

NARRATIVE OF A SAILOR LEFT ON AN ISLAND IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN.

Early in the year 1825, the subject of this narrative was, at the age of seventeen, placed on board a ship employed in the South Sea Fishery. The ship being in the latitude of the Gallapagos, a group of islands situated about two hundred miles west of Peru, she directed her course towards them for the purpose of obtaining wood and water. Here they found an American brig which had arrived there, a day or two previous, with the same intention. They came to an anchor fronting a sandy beach of no very great extent, with high hills, and lofty woods terminating the prospect; the inland parts at a little distance seemed impracticable from the great thickness of the forests. A number of hands were despatched on shore in the long-boat, but not meeting with so desirable a place for watering at they expected, some of the men entered the woods in search of the "Quick freshes," while others proceeded along shore to find one less objectionable. Of the former party was young Lord, who, separating from the rest, entered unconsciously into the thickest part of the country. Having wandered on in this wild labyrinth for nearly two hours, without finding water, or being able to knock down any of the large birds which he chased from among the wild furze and thickets, he began to think of returning. Being perfectly satisfied in his own mind that he was proceeding in the direction for the ship, he pursued the path he had chosen; evening, however, began to wrap the forest in a deeper gloom, and only just sufficient light remained to show him that he had arrived at a place clothed with some fine trees, beyond which the woods grew so thick as to render them impassable. The fact now first flashed upon him, that he had proceeded in all probability some miles into the interior, and he cheerfully made up his mind to pass the night in the woods, not doubting that on the morrow, he should readily find his way back to the vessel. In this comfortable hope, after having fortified himself with a draught of water from a spring, he ascended one of the trees; and here, notwithstanding the loud screaming of the nightbird, and the continued whoopings of innumerable owls, "making night hideous," worn out by fatigue and watching, he slept till morning.

It may be imagined that at the first glimpse of daybreak, he was not a little anxious to get out of the wood, for he now began to suffer severely from want of food. For some hours he wandered about in the intricacies of this wild and uninhabited spot, supported in the hope that his toils were near their termination. Often did he listen in breathless attention to catch the sound of any signal-gun to guide his footsteps, and often did he shout in expectation of being heard by those who might have been despatched in search of him. He ascended the high trees, but his view was constantly intercepted by forests and elevated hills wooded to their summits. Hunger now forced on him the necessity of seeking some means of subsistence; he accordingly prepared with his knife a formidable bludgeon, and scarcely had an hour passed when, startled by a rustling among the underwood, he expected some kind of animal to sally forth, but was surprised to see a large black snake glide out from its concealment and raise its head, "nimble in threats," at his approach. Having got within range of his stick, he immediately "rapped" it "o' the coxcomb," whereupon it rolled itself up, and after a few twists and twirls remained stationary, with its forked tongue thrust out of its mouth.

In this desolate situation night again overtook him, and although the climate of the island, notwithstanding its latitude, is generally mild, and the middle of the day pleasantly warm, yet the mornings and the evenings are rather cold; consequently, he had to struggle against both cold and hunger without any apparent remedy. The simple circumstance of having met with a snake in the day did not seem of much consequence, but the idea of meeting one in the night, occasioned by his hearing those peculiar noises usually made by them at this period, kept him in continual anxiety. He ascended a tree, and having eaten some of the leaves, remained during the obscurity of a night intensely dark, with his spirits dreadfully depressed, for he now began to fear that the ship would sail without him; his situation appeared hopeless, and he passed a sleepless and desponding night; the noises kept up in the woods convinced him that many birds of prey existed upon the island. When day began to appear, he descended from the tree, and had not gone many paces when he perceived a large owl perched, with the most imperturbable gravity, upon a low bough, with its large eyes intently fixed on him, but as if unconscious of his appearance. He quietly approached near enough to knock it on the head, and thus he had the good fortune to provide himself with a breakfast. Having eaten sufficiently of this carrion, which left his mouth as bitter as wormwood, he set out with a determination of moving in a right line, which could not fail of bringing him to the sea-shore at some part of the island. Towards evening he was seized with a most painful sickness, and felt cold and disheartened; he had not seen during this day any four-footed animal.

The night set in dark and rainy, and he took up his quarters at the base of a mountain, determined to ascend to the summit in the morning, in the hope of gaining a view of the sea; but the first thing he did was to shelter himself in one of the low trees which had the thickest foliage, and which proved, in some measure, a defence against the tempestuous weather which now set in. In this dismal situation he fell asleep; and on awakening found himself in a very feeble condition, and completely wet through. Towards morning the weather cleared up, and he proceeded with no very great expedition to climb the mountain, for his strength was nearly exhausted; after great exertion he succeeded in gaining the top, and with great joy found that it commanded a view of the anchorage: but he also made another discovery, which, in its event, threatened to prove more fatal to this unfortunate youth than all his former adventures; the ship to which he belonged had put to sea, and the American brig was at that moment loosening her sails. The distance from the place where he stood to the sea-beach, was at least three miles; and the well-known signal warned him that not a moment was to be lost. The perfect hopelessness of all succour, should she sail before he could arrive at the beach, rendered him desperate; he rushed down the mountain, sick, dizzy, and faint, his limbs with difficulty performing their office; he succeeded after nearly two hours of great fatigue and difficulty in reaching the bay where he first landed; but what was his horror on beholding the white sails of the American brig