you in London, you might try a life on the ocean wave,' and the friendship of the Captain would then be valuable." "Men who drift through life never know when they may run upon the breakers, or find some storm about to swallow them up; and therefore your cool head has given me wise advice, Hardy. How I shall take it, and by what means I am to govern my passionate will, are questions hard to answer; even with your example before me I am, after twenty years, as heedless as ever. If I had some restraining influence, such as you have in your sister, I might do better; but I am a wanderer. 'I care for nobody, nobody cares for me,' about tells the story. I told you I never knew my mother; that was true, but I did know my step-mother: she was of gentle blood, very proud, and paid but little heed to the wretched waif that for a short time drifted into her home after her marriage with my father. I soon found that my birth, humanly speaking, was a miserable mistake, and that I had a home no longer in my father's house. I drifted out into the world, and am now what you see me. This is more than I have ever told any human being of my early days, but I desire that you shall understand some of the secret springs that move my wayward nature; for you have, even if law-officers and the world think differently, been a true friend to me. Many of our plans have been dark and stained by crime. We have together wronged others and used that which we did not earn. And when I think over it all, I could sometimes wish to blot out the past; but I can't, and then I become more reckless." "That is just me," said Flint in an emphatic whisper; "and when the reckless fits come on, there is a picture right in here next my heart that says to me, 'Brother, come back, I love you.' That fetches me back when nothing else will." "Hardy, will you think ill of me if I again ask you to let me become acquainted with your sister when we reach London? If she is good and true enough to lead you back, may not her gentle influence soften my hard life?" "Meaning no offence, Carlos, I again answer, Debby is a lady. I took her from the wretched hovel down in Chelsea when she was too small to remember that her mother was a common drunkard. She has been educated and well brought up in a clergyman's family not far from Coventry, and knows nothing whatever of her origin. I didn't see her myself for five years once, the time I went to India; but she was taught to write to me regularly, and I paid the clergyman a liberal amount every quarter punctually to the day. She moves among people far above us; and when I visit her I feel as awkward as a pig on ice, although she tries so sweetly to make me feel that I aint rough and awkward and wicked — calls me her dear good brother, and makes me feel like I would give all the world if I had it just to be good one minute. Oh, I am afraid for any one who associates with me to know Debby; I'm almost afraid to know her myself!" "Well, I won't insist, Hardy; you have been too good a friend to me for us to fall out about that; you may think over it on the voyage, and it may be you will change your mind before we reach home. If you do not, I shall feel disappointed, but will not blame you." With a bright morning and a favorable wind the Harvest Moon began her voyage. All her canvas was spread, and a brisk run of a few hours carried her past the Capes and out into the broad highway beyond, whose waters had so often before yielded to her prow and carried her in safety. Three days passed by, the wind continued favorable, and Captain Billy was unusually elated, for never had his staunch bark performed her work more nobly, and he had every prospect of a speedy voyage. The dawning of the fourth day was equally propitious, and passing on deck "Jem Stone," who had continued to grow in favor with the Captain, he said cheerfully, "Well, my lad,” the Captain called all his favorites "My lad"-"at this rate we shall soon see old England." - “Too much luck at the start, Captain," was the quick reply. "Nonsense, Jem; I thought you had more sense than to believe in lucky and unlucky signs." "Can't help it, Sir; but don't you believe in luck, good and bad?” "No, I believe in old Master who guides the helm up aloft: He. orders the luck for us." "That is so, Sir, but He sends the signs. Our Irish game-cock flew overboard this morning, and that means a storm as sure as mercury falls, and you had as well get ready for it now. So much fair weather only makes the foul all the worse when it comes. Captain Barker laughed until his face grew red at "Jem's" sign, and as soon as he could command his voice, said, "I should have changed the sign, Jem, had I known the old cock intended to commit suicide: the cook should have helped him out of the world and into the pot; he would have been no worse off, and I should have had a better dinner. Away with your signs, Jem; with stout hearts and brave hands we will soon work our way into port," and the Captain hurried away to another part of the vessel, leaving Flint only the more firmly convinced that there was danger ahead. "He may say what he chooses about signs, Carlos," said Flint, as they were together on watch that night, "but men can't help being influenced by little things in forming conclusions about big things. I have a presentiment that ill-luck hangs over us; I can't shake it off, and I'm going to look it straight in the face. The moon changes tomorrow night, and I believe we will see sights in the shape of weather in the next forty-eight hours. Did you never feel that something evil was coming while everything around you looked bright and promised just the other way ? "Yes, I have; but you are too cool-headed to be governed by whims of that sort." "I never had such a presentiment before, and that is why it has taken such a strong hold on me. I know it was foolish to feel so about the old game-cock's sudden flight overboard, but I couldn't help it. Now, Carlos, if we do have hard weather, and the Harvest Moon can't ride it out, and you should be picked up while I go down where so many now sleep-" "Hush, Hardy, are you going crazy?" "No, I am talking in earnest. Now listen. If I go under, I want you to promise me to try and save a little package which you will find you ever in the bottom of my chest. Tie it fast to your body; and if get home again, deliver it in safety to my sister. Do you promise me?" "I can safely promise, Hardy; but I thought you didn't wish me ever to meet your sister?" "This would be a different thing, Carlos; I now put you on honor, and ask that for my sake you will promise to be a friend to Debby if I should no longer be above ground or water, and she needed a friend. You know all about my affairs; see that she gets her dues, and just watch her like I do at a distance." "I pledge to be her friend for your sake, Hardy; and never will I seek her society except in the execution of my trust, unless I see that a further acquaintance would result in good to me and prove acceptable to her. Can't you trust me that far?" Hardy uttered a feeble "yes," and here the conversation ended. In the early morning-watch there was a change. Captain Barker had been tempted by the fine weather to indulge in an all-night nap, but had risen early, and was not a little surprised to find the beautiful star-lit sky of the evening before now overcast by thick black clouds, the sea every moment becoming more agitated, and the wind already beginning to moan and whistle, as now in fitful gusts and again with rushing force it played through the rigging. Already the mate had given orders to take in sail, but the work had not been executed more promptly than the exigency demanded, for in an incredibly short space of time the gathered fury of a fearful storm burst upon them, and the Harvest Moon was soon engaged with wind and waves. The issue of the struggle none on board dared to predict; but there were no coward hearts there, and master and men toiled as only those do who feel that an idle moment may cost them the loss of every earthly hope, and even life itself. One by one the closely reefed sails were torn away and hurled into the deep; wave after wave dashed over the deck, sweeping cotton and every movable thing before it; and still the men stood at their posts, clinging with the energy of desperation to anything that would enable them to resist being carried overboard by a passing wave, and working when work could be done to ease the vessel or in any way better their condition. Before breakfast-hour all the deck-load had disappeared, and every moment seemed only to add to the fury of the storm, while the heavens grew blacker still, and the sea boiled like a huge caldron as it lashed the sides of the bark. Suddenly Armero heard a voice above the confused Babel of sound, saying, "Carlos, my time has come, I can hold on no longer; remember your promise; God help me!" There was a shock, the vessel trembled with her effort to struggle up from beneath a huge wave that had almost engulfed her; and as she once more labored up, Carlos felt himself borne along by an irresistible force-where, he could not tell, nor did he find out for several minutes afterward that he had been swept along the deck - the wave having struck on the starboard bow and hurled down the gangway leading into the forecastle. Soon recovering his feet, he was forcibly reminded of his companion and of the promise of the night before, by seeing Hardy's chest sliding about in the water that now covered the floor. To drag it to the driest spot he could find, open it, and make search for the precious package, was the work of a moment; and even in the midst of danger and sorrow he felt a thrill of joy as his hand touched the package and drew it forth. Only taking time to observe that it was securely wrapped in india-rubber cloth and bound with red tape, Carlos carefully placed it in the folds of a buckskin belt in which he carried all his valuables, and securing it about his person, ascended the gangway once more to aid in the struggle which momentarily grew more serious. Near the forecastle stood the captain, calm and cool in the midst of danger, and giving his orders to the men in a clear voice that could be heard above the roar of wind and waves. Seeing Carlos emerge from the forecastle, he called out: What carried you below, Romer? Now is no time to be shirking!" Carlos looked savagely at him as he replied: "The same wave that carried poor Jem overboard washed me into the forecastle gangway. I'm not shirking!" "What! Jem Stone overboard?" "Yes, Sir." "How long since?" "When we went down under that heavy wave and staggered so, not more than ten minutes ago." "God of mercy! our best man's gone; but stand by us now, Romer, and we may yet be able to ride the storm out.' Before night closed in upon that day of storm the Harvest Moon was a dismasted wreck drifting and laboring to keep afloat, with only half of her men and the captain left clinging to her for life, working by details to keep under the leak that was steadily gaining on them, and that threatened to engulf them in the angry deep. (TO BE CONTINUED) FRAUDULENT EXPOSITIONS. [A CHAPTER FROM A FORTHCOMING WORK.] full of subtile sophismes which doe play With double sences, and with false debate."- FAERIE QUEENE, UNFORTUNATEL OF 1800, Northern politicians, writers and NFORTUNATELY, ever since their signal political and publishers have controlled nearly all the means of propagating political doctrines, and have used them most industriously and dis honestly; and, acting in the spirit of a remark ascribed to a leading New Englander at that event, "The terms are against us, but their meanings are subject to usage," sophists began early to produce a "usage or "public convictions"* of meanings. A national majority supported such new "usage," and war established it; and now, to bolster the said "public convictions" and give ease to the public conscience, the counterfeit definitions which are the subject of this chapter are coined and circulated through the land as Noah Webster's. Gouverneur Morris, who, being one of them, is good authority against them, estimates the honor and conscience of the legislative representatives of the Northern people as follows: "The legislative lion will not be entangled in a logical net. The legislature will always make the power which it wishes to exercise. . . . . The idea of binding the members by oaths is puerile. Having sworn to exercise the powers granted according to their true intent and meaning, they will, when they desire to go further, avoid the shame if not the guilt of perjury by swearing the true intent and meaning to be (according to their comprehension) that which suits their purpose." This, to one who has studied and reflected on these things, sounds like truth as to the statesmen (so called) of the North; but every true Southern statesman who attained to any considerable eminence, being trained as a gentleman, regarded moral and political principles and duties as out of trade, and his honor and conscience minded his oath and kept him within his procuration. Again, like all honorable and conscientious agents, Southern statesmen have always been strict constructionists; while those of the North have sought to "make the power they wish to exercise," or to gain it by sophistical interpretation or verbal tricks. What they pretend is construction is more like building additions than like finding meanings and intents. THE SHEIK UL GEBEL. Hussun Subah, the founder of the Order of Assassins, which flourished in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, "composed for the dais, or initiated, a catechism consisting of seven heads, among which were implicit obedience to their chief, secrecy, and the principle of seeking the allegorical and not the plain sense of the Koran, by which means the text of that book could be distorted to signify anything which the interpreter wished."-[1. Universal History, 240.] Massachusetts may be regarded as the American Sheik ul Gebel, or "Old Man of the Mountain," for she is the "Chief of the Assassins" of Liberty. In the formation of the Union, and for many years after it, she was the champion of Statehood; but when she found the American nation of provinces would enrich her more than would the American confederacy of States, she set her 'cute lawyers to proving that a nation really existed; and Dane Story and Daniel Webster, who may be termed George Ticknor Curtis, the biographer of Daniel Webster, claims for his hero all the credit of the perversions and the war, as follows: "It is to him that we are to trace that great body of public convictions which, ten years after he was laid in the tomb, enabled the Government of the United States to draw forth the energies of a people who would never have gone through the late civil war without those convictions," He further says Webster's fame rests on doctrine that regards the Constitution, not as a compact, but as a law," and more than intimates that the war was waged for its vindication. "the |