in his favour.  Such a letter in less distressful circumstances than those in which he writes, would, I am persuaded, reflect honour on the pen of a person much older than my poor brother.  But when we consider his extreme youth (only sixteen at the time of the mutiny, and now but nineteen), his fortitude, patience, and manly resignation under the pressure of sufferings and misfortunes almost unheard of, and scarcely to be supported at any age, without the assistance of that which seems to be my dear brother’s greatest comfort—–­ a quiet conscience, and a thorough conviction of his own innocence—­when I add, at the same time, with real pleasure and satisfaction, that his relation corresponds in many particulars with the accounts we have hitherto heard of the fatal mutiny, and when I also add, with inconceivable pride and delight, that my beloved Peter never was known to breathe a syllable inconsistent with truth and honour;—­when these circumstances, my dear uncle, are all united, what man on earth can doubt of the innocence which could dictate such a letter?  In short, let it speak for him:  the perusal of his artless and pathetic story will, I am persuaded, be a stronger recommendation in his favour than any thing I can urge.[13]

’I need not tire your patience, my ever loved uncle, by dwelling longer on this subject (the dearest and most interesting on earth to my heart); let me conjure you only, my kind friend, to read it, and consider the innocence and defenceless situation of its unfortunate author, which calls for, and I am sure deserves, all the pity and assistance his friends can afford him, and which, I am sure also, the goodness and benevolence of your heart will prompt you to exert in his behalf.  It is perfectly unnecessary for me to add, after the anxiety I feel, and cannot but express, that no benefit conferred upon myself will be acknowledged with half the gratitude I must ever feel for the smallest instance of kindness shown to my beloved Peter.  Farewell, my dearest uncle.  With the firmest reliance on your kind and generous promises, I am, ever with the truest gratitude and sincerity,—­Your most affectionate niece,

     NESSY HEYWOOD.’

CHAPTER V

THE ‘PANDORA’

     —­O!  I have suffer’d
     With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
     Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,
     Dash’d all to pieces.  O, the cry did knock
     Against my very heart!  Poor souls! they perish’d
     Had I been any god of power, I would
     Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e’er
     It should the good ship so have swallow’d, and
     The freighting souls within her.