ardently within me as they recounted their wild adventures in foreign lands,—the dreadful storms they had weathered, the appalling dangers they had escaped, the wonderful creatures they had seen both on the land and in the sea, and the interesting lands and strange people they had visited. But of all the places of which they told me, none captivated and charmed my imagination so much as the Coral Islands of the Southern Seas. They told me of thousands of beautiful fertile islands that had been formed by a small creature called the coral insect, where summer reigned nearly all the year round,—where the trees were laden with a constant harvest of luxuriant fruit,—where the climate was almost perpetually delightful,—yet where, strange to say, men were wild, bloodthirsty savages, excepting in those favored isles to which the gospel of our Saviour had been conveyed. These exciting accounts had so great an effect upon my mind, that when I reached the age of fifteen, I resolved to make a voyage to the South Seas.
I had no little difficulty at first in prevailing on my dear parents to let me go; but when I urged on my father that he would never have become a great captain had he remained in the coasting trade, he saw the truth of what I said, and gave his consent. My dear mother, seeing that my father had made up his mind, no longer offered opposition to my wishes. "But oh, Ralph," she said, on the day I bade her adieu, "come back soon to us, my dear boy, for we are getting old now, Ralph, and may not have many years to live."
I will not take up my reader's time with a minute account of all that occurred before I took my final leave of my dear parents. Suffice it to say, that my father placed me under the charge of an old messmate of his own, a
