of the trays and footmen, and chaunts a
blessing. The King and his brothers again
approach the "apostles;" the choristers
burst forth into a glorious chaunt, till the
whole hall is filled with melody, and the King
receives the dishes from his brothers, and
places them before the old men. Again I felt
a thrill rush through me; it is so graceful—
though it be but a mere form, a mere shadow
of the true sentiment of love—any gentle act
of kindness from the strong to the weak,
from the powerful to the very poor. As the
King bowed himself before the feeble old man
of a hundred,—though I knew it to be but
a mere ceremony,—it was impossible not to
recognise a poetical idea.

It took a long time before the seventy and
two meats were all placed on the table, and
then it took a very long time before the
palsied old hands could convey the soup to
the old lips; some were too feeble, and were
fed by the man in black. It was curious to
notice the different ways in which the poor
old fellows received the food from the
King; some slightly bowed their heads;
others sate stolidly; others seemed sunk in
stupor.

The Court soon retired, and twelve new
baskets were brought by servants, into which
the five bowls of untasted food were placed;
these, together with the napkin, knife, fork,
spoon and mug, bottle of wine and bread, are
carried away by the old men; or, more
properly speaking, are carried away for them by
their attendant relatives. Many of the poor
old fellows—I see by a printed paper which
was distributed about, and which contains a
list of their names and ages—come from great
distances; they are chosen as being the oldest
poor men in Bavaria. One only is out of
Munich, and he is ninety-three.

We went down into the hall to have a
nearer view of the "apostles;" but, so very
decrepit did the greater number appear, on a
close inspection; their faces so sad and
vacant; there was such a trembling eagerness
after the food in the baskets, now
hidden from their sight; such a shouting
into their deaf ears; such a guiding of feeble
steps and blinded, blear eyes; that I wished
we had avoided this painful part of the
spectacle.

THE STORY OF A SAILOR'S LIFE.

[THE following curiosity is the real
autobiography of an Ancient Mariner still living.
We present it to our readers in the old man's
own words. We may sometimes omit a few
passages, and may sometimes alter his
orthography, but we shall in no other respect
interpose between him and the homely truth
of his narrative.]

CHAPTER THE FIRST.

I am writing this to show the wonderful
mercies the Lord has shown me in fifty years'
life-time at sea, and I hope that whoever may
have a chance to look at it, it will teach them
not to despair, or give themselves up for lost;
for by perseverance, and a firm trust in
the Almighty, we can do anything that the
Giver of all good will allow us to do; for there
is a "Sweet little Cherub that sits up
aloft, keeps a watch for the life of poor
Jack." By accounts that I had from my
friends, when I came to the years of
recollection, I was informed that I was born at
sea, in the year of our Lord 1777, on the 20th
of August; my father being master of a brig
belonging to Hull in Yorkshire, and when
I was born, he was bound on a voyage from
London to Hamburgh. My mother being at
sea along with her husband, and being at
sea, and by contrary winds and bad weather
being detained longer than what they
expected, I was born on board of the "Jane and
Margaret," belonging'to the port of Hull,
when the brig was nearly a-breast of Heligoland,
an island that lays at the entrance of
Hamburgh River; but my mother being
very poorly, she and I were left at a
place called Cuxhaven, at the entrance of
the River Elbe. But my father being obliged
to proceed upon his voyage, my mother and
me were left at Hamburgh at the consul's.
And the winter setting in sooner and severer
than my father expected, for he expected
to make another voyage before the winter
set in, me and my mother were left at
Hamburgh all the winter; but I being very
poorly, and not expected to live, my mother
was persuaded to have me christened. And
I was christened at St. Catherine's Church
at Hamburgh, when I was four months
old.

My father was expected to be at Hamburgh
in the beginning of the next year; but in the
first voyage that he was going to make, in
the year 1778, he was cast away, and all
hands drowned, at the entrance of the
river, near about the same spot where I was
born. My mother belonging to Kirkwall, in
the Orkneys, she and me went down there,
and there I spent my childhood, till my
mother died, when I was about eight years
old. My mother having a sister who lived
at Boston, in Lincolnshire, who was down in
Kirkwall when my mother died, she, after
all things were settled, took me with her
to Boston, where I had a grandmother living,
and between my aunt and my grandmother
I soon became a spoiled child: for as young
as I was, I soon found out that they were
very fond of me; for my aunt had no
children herself, and my grandmother
never had any more children but my
father; so if I committed a fault at my aunt's,
where I lived, I only had to run to my
grandmother's, and she was sure to take
my part; and the same if I committed myself
at my grandmother's, my aunt was sure to
take my part. It was my misfortune to lose
my parents so soon. I shan't say nothing of