He made a good sailor; and while I knew him in St.Pierre, and during the subsequent years of his life, his conduct was in every way correct.

His conversation was improving, and his chest was well stored with books, which he cheerfully loaned, and to which I was indebted for many happy hours.
The other was an Irishman by birth, prematurely aged, of diminutive stature, and unprepossessing appearance.

He had been many years at sea; had witnessed perilous scenes; had fought for his life with the savages on board the Atahualpa on "the north-west coast"; had served in an English man-of-war, from which he escaped by swimming ashore, a distance of several miles, one night while cruising off the island of Antigua.
He reached the land completely exhausted more dead than alive and was concealed for a time among the slave habitations on one of the plantations.
Little Jack, as he was familiarly called, was a type of the old sailor of those days, so far as his habits and general conduct was concerned.
He was reckless, bold, dissolute, generous, never desponding, ever ready for a drunken frolic or a fight, to do a good deed, plan a piece of mischief, or head a revolt.

He seemed to find enjoyment in every change which his strange destiny presented.

And this man, who seemed at home in a ship's forecastle, or when mingling with the lowest dregs of society, had been educated at Trinity College, Dublin.