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Updated: September 15, 2025
It must not be supposed, then, that our friend John Bax sometimes called "captain," sometimes "skipper," not unfrequently "mister," but most commonly "Bax," without any modification was a hopeless castaway, because he was found by his friend Guy Foster in a room full of careless foul-mouthed seamen, eating his bread and cheese and drinking his beer in an atmosphere so impregnated with tobacco smoke that he could scarcely see, and so redolent of gin that he could scarcely smell the smoke!
U. d. in the following year, and three years later his own death released him from his heavy burden of trouble and sorrow. His last poem was The Castaway, which, with its darkness almost of despair, shows no loss of intellectual or poetic power.
To exorcise them, the old Church of Christendom has her mystic formulae, of which no rationalistic prescription can take the place. If Cowper had been a good Roman Catholic, instead of having his conscience handled by a Protestant like John Newton, he would not have died despairing, looking upon himself as a castaway.
I who write this am a very old woman, and though in many things I am most ignorant, I have seen much of the world and of the men who live in it, yet I say that never have I known any marvel to compare with the marvel and the beauty of the love between Ralph Kenzie, the castaway, and my sweet daughter, Suzanne.
"A castaway!" exclaimed Pencroft; "left on this Tabor Island not two hundred miles from us! Ah, Captain Harding, you won't now oppose my going." "No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding; "and you shall set out as soon as possible." "To-morrow?" "To-morrow!" The engineer still held in his hand the paper which he had taken from the bottle. He contemplated it for some instants, then resumed,
These reflections led me so far that I began to form a project against my life, but the dawn dissipated my gloomy ideas, when I made up my mind to trust to Providence, which had protected me through so many perils. I then mounted the high land to scan the horizon, but no sign of the ship could I see, so I knew myself to be again a castaway.
Then we have Friday, the funny cannibals later and it is all over. But the vast solitude of that poor castaway has entered the imagination of the youth and dominates it.
Love is as the ever-flowing torrent of eternity in my veins the pulse of everlasting youth and victory! What are the foolish creeds of man compared with this one Truth of Nature Love! Is not the Deity Himself the Supreme Lover? and wouldst thou have me a castaway from His holiest ordinance? Ah no! come to me, my beloved! soul of my soul inmost core of my heart!
It is true their situation was not so bad as if each had been left alone by himself. Many a poor castaway upon a desert island has been condemned to a far more unhappy fate. They knew and acknowledged this.
The castaway would have melted into loving recollections; the imprisoned lampoonist would have busied himself with schemes, ideas, arguments and combinations for getting out, and getting on. This poor Robin on the island weeps over nothing but his own sorrows, and, while pretending to bewail his solitude, turns aside coldly from companionships next only in affection to those of men.
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