have been one of the last letters from his hand. Though out of its
chronological order, it may be appropriately quoted here to connect it
with the other references to the book which so profoundly influenced his
life:

"Captain Flinders presents his compliments to the Hydrographer of the
Naval Chronicle, and will thank him to insert his home in the list of
subscribers in his new edition of Robinson Crusoe; he wishes also that
the volume on delivery should have a neat, common binding, and be
lettered.--London Street, July 5, 1814."

It seems clear that Flinders had promised himself the pleasure of
re-reading in maturity the tale that had so delighted his youth. Had he
lived to do so, he might well have underlined, as applicable to himself,
a pair of those sententious observations with which Defoe essayed to give
a sober purpose to his narrative. The first is his counsel of "invincible
patience under the worst of misery, indefatigable application, and
undaunted resolution under the greatest and most discouraging
circumstances." The second is his wise remark that "the height of human
wisdom is to bring our tempers down to our circumstances, and to make a
great calm within under the weight of the greatest storm without." They
were words which Flinders during strenuous years had good cause to
translate into conduct.

The edition of the book to which he thus subscribed was undertaken
largely on account of his acknowledgment of its effect upon his life. The
author of the Naval Chronicle sketch of his career* (* 1814 Volume 32.)
wrote in a footnote: "The biographer, also happening to understand that
to the same cause the Navy is indebted for another of its ornaments,
Admiral Sir Sydney Smythe, was in a great measure thereby led to give
another studious reading to that charming story, and hence to adopt a
plan for its republication, now almost at maturity;" and he commended the
new issue especially "to all those engaged in the tuition of youth."

One other anecdote of Flinders' boyhood has been preserved as a family
tradition. It is that, while still a child, he was one day lost for some
hours. He was ultimately found in the middle of one of the sea marshes,
his pockets stuffed with pebbles, tracing the runlets of water, so that
by following them up he might find out whence they came. Many boys might
have done the same; but this particular boy, in that act of enquiry
concerning geographical phenomena on a small scale, showed