BY THE
AUTHOR OF "TOM CRINGLE'S LOG."
[Transcriber's note: Author is Michael Scott]
"ON LIFE'S VAST OCEAN DIVERSELY WE SAIL,
REASON THE CARD, BUT PASSION IS THE GALE."
ESSAY ON MAN
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH;
AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON.
MDCCCXXXVI.
EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO., PAUL'S WORK.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.
CHAP.
I. GAZELLES AND MIDGES—THE MIDGE'S WINGS ARE SINGED
II. THE ATTACK
III. THE MIDGE IN THE HORNET'S NEST
IV. THE EVENING AFTER THE BRUSH
V. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SERJEANT QUACCO
VI. THE FETISH—CROSSING THE BAR, AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SLAVER
VII. A WARM RECEPTION
VIII. CAPE MISSIONARIES
IX. FOUNDERING OF THE HERMES
X. DICKY PHANTOM—YARN SPINNING
XI. JAMBE DE BOIS
XII. GAMBLING—AN UNLUCKY HIT
Born an Irishman, the son of an Irishwoman;educated in Scotland, the country of my father, anancient mariner, who, as master and supercargo, hadsailed his own ship for many years in the Virginiatrade; removed to England at the age of seventeen,in consequence of his death; I had, by the time Iarrived at majority, passed four years of my mercantileapprenticeship in my paternal uncle's counting-house,an extensive merchant in that modern Tyre,the enterprising town of Liverpool; during whichperiod, young as I was, I had already made four voyagesin different vessels of his to foreign parts—to theWest Indies, the Brazils, the Costa Firme, and theUnited States of America.
Being naturally a rambling, harumscarum sort ofa young chap, this sort of life jumped better with mydisposition than being perched on the top of a tallmahogany tripod, poring over invoices, daybooks,journals, and ledgers, with the shining ebony-coloureddesk jammed into the pit of my stomach below,and its arbour of bright brass rods constantly pervertingthe integrity of my curls above; so at the periodwhen the scene opens, I had with much ado prevailedon my uncle to let me proceed once more on a cruise,instead of a senior clerk, in charge of two of his ships,bound to the African coast, to trade for ivory andgold dust, and to fill up with palm oil and hardwoodtimbers.
I had no small difficulty in carrying this point, asthe extreme insalubrity of the climate, the chance ofbeing plundered by the semi-piratical foreign slavers,to say nothing of the danger of a treacherous attackon the part of the natives themselves, weighed heavilyagainst my going in my worthy uncle's mind; but Ihad set my heart on it, and where "there's a will,there's a way."
I will not conceal, however, that after all, when itcame to the point, I do not believe he would haveallowed me to d