CHARLES WATERTON, ESQ. CXXV 



the following brief account of our recent dis- 

 aster:— 



The Pollux, once so fine, 



No longer cleaves the wave, 

 For now she lies supine, 



Deep in her wat'ry grave. 



When she received her blew, 



The captain and his mate 

 Were both asleep below, 



Snoring in breechless state. 



If I the power possess'd, 



I'd hang them by the neck, 

 As warning to the rest, 



How they desert the deck. 



Our treasures, and our clothes, 



With all we had, were lost. 

 The shock that caused our woes 



Took place on Elba's coast. 



Cervantes, who had studied the rise and fall 

 of human affairs in all their different bearings, 

 exclaims on one occasion, " Thou art welcome, 

 Evil, if thou comest alone." Had my disasters 

 ended with the shipwreck, all would have soon 

 gone right again; for the soothing hand of 

 time seldom or ever fails to pour balm into the 

 wounds which we are exposed to receive. But 

 it pleased Almighty God not to stay the chas- 



