situation. The course of those thoughts I can even now in a great measure retrace-the event which had just taken place the awkwardness that had produced it-the bustle it must have occasioned (for I had observed two persons jump from the chains)—the effect it would have on a most affectionate father-the manner in which he would disclose it to the rest of the family -and a thousand other circumstances minutely associated with home, were the first series of reflections that occurred. They took then a wider range-our last cruise-a former voyage, and shipwreck-my school-the progress I had made there, and the time I had misspent and even all my boyish pursuits and adventures. Thus travelling backwards, every past incident of my life seemed to glance across my recollection in retrograde succession; not, however, in mere outline, as here stated, but the picture filled up with every minute and collateral feature; in short, the whole period of my existence seemed to be placed before me in a kind of panoramic review, and each act of it seemed to be accompanied by a consciousness of right or wrong, or by some reflection on its cause or its consequences; indeed, many trifling events which had been long forgotten then crowded into my imagination, and with the character of recent familiarity.

May not all this be some indication of the almost infinite power of memory with which we may awaken in another world, and thus be compelled to contemplate our past lives? Or might it not in some degree warrant the inference that death is only a change or modification of our existence, in which there is no real pause or interruption? But, however that may be, one circumstance was highly remarkable; that the innumerable

ideas which flashed into my mind were all retrospective-yet I had been religiously brought up-my hopes and fears of the next world had lost nothing of their early strength, and at any other period intense interest and awful anxiety would have been excited by the mere probability that I was floating on the threshold of eternity: yet at that inexplicable moment, when I had a full conviction that I had already crossed that threshold, not a single thought wandered into the future-I was wrapt entirely in the past.

"The length of time that was occupied by this deluge of ideas, or rather the shortness of time into which they were condensed, I cannot now state with precision, yet certainly two minutes could not have elapsed from the moment of suffocation to that of my being hauled up.

"The strength of the flood tide made it expedient to pull the boat at once to another ship, where I underwent the usual vulgar process of emptying the water by letting my head hang downwards, then bleeding, chafing, and even administering gin; but my submersion had been really so brief, that, according to the account of the lookers on, I was very quickly restored to animation.

My feelings while life was returning were the reverse in every point of those which have been described above. One single but confused idea-a miserable belief that I was drowning-dwelt upon my mind, instead of the multitude of clear and definite ideas which had recently rushed through it—a helpless anxiety- a kind of continuous nightmare seemed to press heavily on every sense, and to prevent the formation of any one distinct thought-and it was with diffi

culty that I became convinced that I was really alive. Again, instead of being absolutely free from all bodily pain, as in my drowning state, I was now tortured by pain all over me; and though I have been since wounded in several places, and have often submitted to severe surgical discipline, yet my sufferings were at that time far greater; at least, in general distress. On one occasion I was shot in the lungs, and after lying on the deck at night for some hours bleeding from other wounds, I at length fainted. Now as I felt sure that the wound in the lungs was mortal, it will appear obvious that the overwhelming sensation which accompanies fainting must have produced a perfect conviction that I was then in the act of dying. Yet nothing in the least resembling the operations of my mind when drowning then took place; and when I began to recover, I returned to a clear conception of my real

state.

"If these involuntary experiments on the operation of death afford any satisfaction or interest to you, they will not have been suffered quite in vain by

"Yours very truly,

"F. BEAUFORT."

This letter of Admiral Beaufort must give rise to various suggestions. It proves that the spirit of man may retain its full activity-we may perhaps say an increased activity--when freed from the trammels of the flesh; at least, when all the functions of the body are deprived of animal power, and the spirit has become something like the type and shadow of that, which we are taught to believe concerning the immortality of the soul. It is a curious fact, but a very conceivable one,

that, as he says, "When I had a full conviction that I had already crossed the threshold of eternity, not a single thought wandered into the future-I was wrapt entirely in the past." The inference to be drawn from this seems to be, that the impression of things or ideas that had actually happened was strong, and afforded no room for the admission of anticipation; that the former alone, that is the past, altogether gave effort to the memory-in fact, memory can have no concern with the future. But that does not lead us far, or help us much; it being the effort of a man all but dead, in whom we have here a separation of the spirit from the corporeal substance.

I do not believe that the practical philosopher Dr. Wollaston threw any light on the subject to Captain Beaufort, or that Lady Spencer acquired much from Sir Henry Halford; and perhaps it is best that we should content ourselves in concluding, with Shakspeare (who is rarely wrong),

"We are such stuff as dreams are made of."

SECTION IX.

SIR JAMES GRAHAM, BART.

Nov. 15, 1830-June 11, 1834.

Admiral Sir THOMAS HARDY....First Naval Lord.
The Hon. GEORGE ELLIOT......First Secretary.

As the Lord High Admiral had been the immediate successor of the Viscount Melville in the inferior office of First Lord of the Admiralty, which his Lordship had held for many years, so Lord Melville, by returning to it, relieved the Lord High Admiral, as soon as the latter should be prepared to send in his resignation, as he had manifested a desire to do for some time. His Lordship succeeded; but he held it only this second time for two years, when he made way for a Whig opponent in the person of Sir James Graham. When that party came into office, on a former occasion, and the Earl Grey was placed at the head of the Admiralty, it was understood that a total change of men and measures, in the civil departments of the Navy, would immediately be carried into effect; something of the nature of those that were supposed to have been contemplated by Lord St. Vincent, when he was First Lord of the Admiralty; but to accomplish which he either found the difficulty too strong, or could find none ready to second him effectually in the execu