obliged to husband my oil with the utmost frugality; and notwithstanding
all my caution, it grew low, and was just spent, in little above half
the time I stayed there.

I had now cut a piece of my shirt for a wick to my last drop of oil,
which I twisted and lighted. I burnt the oil in my brass tobacco-box,
which I had fitted pretty well to answer the purpose Sitting down, I had
many black thoughts of what must follow the loss of my light, which I
considered as near expiring, and that, I feared, for ever. I am here,
thought I, like a poor condemned criminal, who knows his execution
is fixed for such a day, nay, such an hour, and dies over and over in
imagination, and by the torture of his mind, till that hour comes: that
hour, which he so much dreads! and yet that very hour which releases him
from all farther dread! Thus do I--my last wick is kindled--my last drop
of fuel is consuming!--and I am every moment apprehending the shocks of
the rock, the suffocation of the water; and, in short, thinking over my
dying thoughts, till the snuff of my lamp throws up its last curling,
expiring flame, and then my quietus will be presently signed, and I
released from my tormenting anxiety! Happy minute! Come then; I only
wait for thee! My spirits grew so low and feeble upon this, that I had
recourse to my brandy bottle to raise them; but, as I was just going to
take a sip, I reflected that would only increase thirst, and, therefore,
it were better to take a little of my white Madeira; so, putting
my dram-bottle again into the chest, I held up one of Madeira, as I
fancied, to the lamp, and seeing it was white (for I had red too) I
clapped it eagerly to my mouth, when the first gulp gave me a greater
refreshment, and more cheered my heart, than all the other liquors I had
put together could have done; insomuch, as I had almost leaped over the
boat's side for joy. "It is oil!" cried I aloud, "it is oil!" I set it
down carefully, with inexpressible pleasure; and examining the rest of
the bottles I had taken for white Madeira, I found two more of those
to be filled with oil. "Now," says I, "here is the counterpart of my
condemned prisoner! For let but a pardon come, though at the gallows,
how soon does he forget he has been an unhappy villain! And I, too, have
scarce a notion now, how a man, in my case, could feel such sorrow as I
have for want of a little oil."

After my first transport, I found myself grow serious, reflecting upon
the