" and the old hooker feels it. How she does groan and crack again!" "Aye, and how she lurches too," rejoined Thomas. that put the whole main-deck afloat, and set her a-staggering like old Smithers, when he's a cloth or two in the wind. Egad! I've taken a bucket-full on board myself, I think.” successful in collecting them around him within a moderate distance, at nightfall. A close order would not have been desirable, for such was the indistinctness of vision by night—not from the darkness, but the haze-"By the L-d, she took in a sea amid-ships just now, that the best look-out might have proved insufficient to guard against accidents, and to keep the vessels of the fleet from running each other down, in the swiftness of their course, before they could be aware of each other's vicinity. In the evening, therefore, as one after another fell into their respective stations, on either quarter of the commodore, each vessel took in what canvas she could spare-all, except some wretched tubs, which embraced this opportunity of crowding every stitch, to make up the way they had lost during the day; while the stag-like frigate was often forced to furl every inch of canvas, that she might not run out of sight of her charge before the light of morning should render it safe for her to heave-to, and wait for their coming up. The eighth evening had closed in, on board the frigate, with an increase of wind and sea. Every thing had been made snug for the night; the royal and top-gallantyards were sent on deck; the masts themselves were struck, and every sail was carefully handed; only the goosewings of the main-topsail were occasionally loosened between the squalls, to keep the ship free from the danger of being run foul of by any of the convoy. The log in these squalls would sometimes indicate a rate of eleven, and even twelve knots. The sea foamed and boiled around the ship's broad bows, in whirlpools of brilliant light, while she careered along under the influence of a heavy following sea, which struck her alternately on each quarter; and she rolled until the points of her reduced masts described the greater portion of a semicircle in the heavens, and her long yard-arms returned dripping with brine. Every now and then the crest of a huge wave, taking advantage, as it were, of her recumbent position, would break upon her black side, and curling over her quarter or waist, wash the decks clean fore and aft, drenching every thing upon them; while the timbers and straining-tackles of the heavy guns creaked and groaned with the constant and irregular tension. A stiff bit of a breeze, this same, my boys," said young Bill Thomas, as he entered the starboard berth,* about two bells after the first watch had been set, wringing the brine off his rough sea-cap, and handing it, along with his dripping watch-coat, to the boy of his mess. "I take it, some of the old ladies at home are praying for us about this time." There's a fresh hand at the bellows too, just now, I think," observed another of the youths of the berth; Staggering! by the hokey, it set more a-staggering than you, or the old hooker either; it sent little Jem, there-confound him—into the lee scuppers, with a good can of stiff grog he was handing to me." "Ah, Dick! that was a loss, faith; but it don't signify. By Jove! I must qualify this sea-water a little-my stomach is like an ice-house. Here! you son of a seacook! take these wet duds forward, and shake the water out of them, and get me a dry jacket; and here, my boy-hand us the stuff. Come, don't be so stingy: now, up with it-there, that's something like. Here's to the ship that goes-the wind that blows;' but, avast! we've enough of that already." "And pray, what lark might you have been after upon deck, Master Thomas?" interrogated young Ned Connoly, as he just finished a hand at cribbage, which he had been playing with some others of the mess, by the light of the purser's lanthorn, which hung in a corner of the berth. Hav'n't you enough of bad weather in your own watch? I'll be bound you was after no good now." "Why, faith, I can't say much for the good, Ned, and little more for the evil, if you will call fun out of its right name. I was talking a bit with old Gillows: he's down in the mouth, you know, about his wife; and I was spinning a yarn to rouse him up, and make him laugh; but it wouldn't do the fool still throws up his eyes like a duck in thunder, and heaves such savage sighs! I told him to belay, for we had more wind than we knew what to do with already; but he's too hard up just now for a joke; so I went and saw the log hove, and was just coming down, when that confounded sea struck her amid-ships, and soused me all over." "And you deserved it all, Bill, for bothering a poor fellow, who had so much to vex him as old Gillows has already. But what is she going?” "Eleven knots, by the hokey! and under bare poles too-not a rag upon her: she does spin along, to be sure!" "And how does the night look ?" Devilish bad, I think-as black in the face as a blacksmith—can't see a ship's length on either side for haze; and the sea rising, if anything, and like a sheet of fiery foam all round. I saw old quarter-master Sims The quarters of the midshipmen and master's mates on board shoving his muzzle to windward, and grinning and a frigate, as the cockpit is on board a line-of-battle ship. snuffing as if he smelt mischief." on by the capstern, as a fresh fit of rolling rendered his walk too hazardous to be continued; now addressing a question or an order to the quarter-master, and now casting upwards a keen, inquisitive glance, to see that "Then mischief there will be, or my name's not Ned Connoly; but let us see—] e—I'll take a turn on deck myself, and bring you my report." With these words he left the berth, to which he was never to return. Ned Connoly was a jolly master's-mate, on board the all was right over-head, or to scan the aspect of the good frigate D——, a prime favourite with all his mess-heavens. mates; a chief leader in all their amusements and innocent larks (for in no others would he be concerned); the very glass and mirror in which the "young gentle"* of the D― did fashion their deportment; in short, the life and soul of the starboard berth. No one could sing a song or tell a story like Ned Conolly; his wit and humour were inexhaustible; and for compounding a bowl of punch, or dressing a good hot devil, when the wherewithal was to be had, or for helping to discuss such good things when made, there was not his equal in the ship. men" But Ned Conolly had other and more valuable qualities. He was an excellent seaman; zealous and active in the discharge of his duty; of an open and generous disposition; a warm-hearted friend, and a dutiful, affectionate son. He was, too, "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." That mother had daughters, it is true, but this was her only boy-" her beautiful, her brave!"-the image of his gallant father, who had fallen, fighting the battles of his country-under God, her only earthly support. Out of the wretched pittance of the pay to which he was entitled, he still contrived to save a trifle, to add to her comforts; and all his little prize-money was devoted to the same pious purpose. His exemplary conduct had not passed unob served by his officers, and at this very time he was among the first on the admiral's private list, to be made lieutenant as soon as possible, after arriving at his destined station; this hope was his comfort—that step the height of his ambition for the time. Vain hopes-never was he doomed to reach that station! Never was his fond mother again to clasp her son to her heart. Suddenly the quarter-master, in the waist, was startled by a piercing shriek, which seemed to issue from the sea itself; it was almost immediately repeated, and the second time he could trace it with certainty to the mizen-chains. ་་ " Abaft, there, ahoy!" shouted he; a man overboard, in the larboard mizen-chains there!" and he jumped aft himself, while the look-out on the larboard quarter ran also to the point indicated, from whence the cries still echoed, when the voice of the sufferer was not quenched by the wash of a fresh sea. ་་ 'Holloa, there, keep a good heart!"—" hold on, my lad, we'll soon have hold of you!"-" whereabouts are you?" exclaimed the men, as each strove to gain sight of the poor fellow but it was too late-no human eye could see, no arm could reach him. "Oh, God help me! I'm gone," uttered the voice, in half-choked accents, as the driving seas forced him from his hold. By heaven! it is Ned Connoly! Lay hold of him, ye lubbers!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "A boat! Oh, God, a boat!" shrieked the despairing lad, as he whirled past them. They were his last words-the ship was bounding forward like a race-horse in full speed. Another faint and distant cry was borne upon the blast, and sounded like a knell upon the ear of the bystanders, and they heard no more. "Starboard your helm! starboard! D—— -n! hard a-starboard, will ye !" shouted the lieutenant. "Bring her to the wind-we're not to let the poor fellow go in this way! Holloa, there! main-top-men, bear a-hand! clear away that boat on the quarter!" The frigate was now at every lurch rolling her gunBy this time the ship, reeling till she fell almost on wales under water, and dipping her main-yard-arms on her beam ends, came up to the wind with a mighty either side; while ever and anon, in spite of the helms-sweep; but miles were traversed in her speed, from the man's skill, heavy seas would curl over her quarters, and sweep her decks. Such of the watch as were not actively employed, had sought what shelter they could find from the soaking spray; and sat passing the time with tough stories, or singing rude sea-songs: those on the look-out alone were to be seen at their several stations, gazing heedfully through the murky air, to guard against mischance. The officer of the watch paced the privileged platform of the quarter-deck, or occasionally held spot where the poor fellow had lost his hold, before her way could be stopped. The rumour, too, had now spread below, and his companions, from the starboard berth, came hurrying upon deck. Gallant and daring, but rash as they were brave, they heeded not the dangerthey looked not on the raging sea-they thought not of the space to be traversed against a furious wind-of the impossibility of seeing an object in the water, through darkness, mist, and spray: they only thought of saving their messmate-their friend; he whom they loved like The midshipmen are usually termed "the young gentlemen," a brother. They sprang into the boat, in a moment, to the number of five or six, and fierce demands for oars on board a man-of-war. and rudder were mingled with cries of "cast loose, men; cast loose, and lower away-lower away, and be d-d to ye-the poor fellow will be gone." But the top-men and quarter-master, more experienced and less excited than the young midshipmen, perceived the full peril, or rather the certainty of destruction, in an attempt which must be fruitless; and they were slowly and reluctantly obeying these repeated and peremptory orders, when the voice of the captain was heard, in tones of grave authority, rising above the tumult and roar of the winds. Keep all fast, men-keep all fast there, I say: what —are ye mad? Would ye wantonly add to this night's loss? What boat could live a moment in that sea? What hands could pull her to windward a single fathom, if she floated? Secure the boat, men, and return to your stations. "Lieutenant G.," said he, addressing the officer of the watch, as soon as the men had left the quarter-deck, "this attempt should not have been permitted: I reckoned more upon you, as an officer of trust and experience. On duty, sir, feeling should never overpower the judgment; and who, in the exercise of his judgment, would have committed the lives of men to the mercy of such a sea? Young men, the motives of your thoughtless conduct excuse you from my censure; but let the peril you have so narrowly escaped be a lesson for the future; learn to distinguish between the resolute courage which beseems a man, and the blind fool-hardihood which fruitlessly exposes the lives of others with our own: if ye seek to become officers, this is a point of the first importance. No one of you can regret the fate of young Connoly more than I do, but the hand of God was plainly in the matter; and were ye to strive against His might? Return to your duties or your berths. Mr. G. get the ship before the wind again, and keep your regular course." The frigate once more pursued her rapid way; and on the morrow, poor Connoly's sea-chest, and his little property, were brought up, according to custom, to be examined and inventoried; as is frequently the case on such occasions, an auction was made of such articles of common use as were not likely to be valued by his mother and sisters, the produce of which was held for their behoof. At this sale, each of his messmates purchased some little memorial of their unfortunate comrade, without paying much attention to the price they gave; for they knew well how much it would be needed, and yet how poorly the whole amount, were it ten times as great, could compensate for the loss so irreparable. Their good-will did not stop here: a collection was set on foot, to which every one contributed his mite; and the officers of the ship, desirous of testifying their regard for the deceased, added each what he could spare, for the benefit of the bereaved widow. Many a glance was directed at the vacant seat of poor Connoly, as the young men assembled at the usual hour at their scanty meals-their customary mirth was clouded; and much, and most sincere regret, was expressed for the loss of so true-hearted a messmate. But the next day his seat was occupied by some other member of the mess; allusions to their lost friend were less frequent; other events occurred, and afforded fresh topics of conversation; and in less than a week, the name of Connoly ceased to be mentioned: he had passed as it seems from their memories, as he had from their presence-like a bubble on the current of human life, which dances gaily and sparkles for a while, then bursts, and is seen no more. Destruction of the Perseverance, and Murder of Captain Johnstone, his Officers, and Crew, in 1805. THE Perseverance sailed from Penang on the 19th April, in company with two other ships, and his Majesty's brig Albatross, bound to Pegue; and in three days they parted company. Between ten and eleven o'clock on the night of the third day, the gunner, a Manilla man, and four Manilla sea-cunnies, went on deck, and knocked down and murdered Mr. Baker, the chief mate. They afterwards went to the cabin of Mr. Mathewson, the second officer, and murdered him also. Captain Johnstone, being awakened by the noise, came to the cuddy door, armed with a hanger, at the moment that the villains were about to enter, and slightly wounded one of them, but was quickly overpowered and disarmed; he then came on the quarterdeck, begging for mercy. Alas! mercy was unknown to such sanguinary wretches! for the instant that the gunner had promised to spare him, one of the villains came behind, and struck him on the back of the head with some weapon that felled him to the ground, when another severed his head from his body with a hatchet. The next object of their murderous attack was an American passenger, who came on deck, and whom they instantly killed; they next went below, and murdered Mr. Garey, the third officer, and Mr, Palmer, a gentleman of Calcutta, passenger for Pegue. The lascars, who were on board, they ordered to remain quiet, and go down into the hold, which the poor men readily obeyed. The only person whose life they spared at this time, was an Armenian gentleman, named Gregory Joahnes, from whose account this narrative is taken. They next proceeded to break open and plunder Captain Johnstone's trunks, in which they found nearly 1000 dollars, and about 700 dollars which were the property of the officers and passengers; they then hoisted out the yawl, and put into it the money and other valuable arti- | the foaming breakers gave too late warning of his fate, cles, and ordered into her the only persons whom they and the vessel became the prey of a set of ruthless barchose to save, which were Mr. Joahnes, the old serang, barians called "wreckers;" who, to legalize their plans Captain Johnstone's butler, a Malay girl, and two las- der, frequently murdered those who had escaped drowncars: when, as if to fill up the measure of their infamy, ing, and then called the wreck a "God-send." they set fire to the ship, and abandoned her, leaving the wretched lascars, who had been confined in the hold, to perish in the flames. The next morning Mr. Joahnes says he saw the ship all in flames, and by the following morning she had disappeared. The yawl proceeded for the nearest land, which was supposed to be Brothers Island, or Pulo Lancury, and reached it in three days. Here Mr. Joahnes escaped by hiding himself in the jungle; and after suffering extreme hunger and distress, he obtained a passage, in a fishing prow, to Quedah. The king of Quedah received him with great kindness and humanity, and finally sent him to Penang, where he arrived on the 27th of May, with fervent gratitude to the Almighty disposer of events, who had thus so signally rescued him from such an unheard-of scene of brutal butchery. The Old Wrecker.-A Tale. RETURNING from the Mediterranean, a few years since, about the autumnal equinox, we had reached the British Channel, where our vessel was compelled to beat about for some days, in consequence of thick fogs. At last a brisk breeze sprang up, clearing the atmosphere in its progress, when we discovered a dangerous shore on our lee bow, at the distance of half a mile: our captain immediately ordered the ship about, and, as night was approaching, with appearance of storm, the greatest care and vigilance became necessary. To our tars this was all a matter of course; but to a landsman, like myself, the scene was truly alarming. To sleep appeared impossible under such circumstances; I therefore determined on sitting up. Our chief mate, a Cornishman, and an old sailor, being, during his watch, full of direful tales, I was compelled to listen to many a tale of hair-breadth escapes, storms, and shipwrecks, which would elsewhere have been much more entertaining. One was so striking, that I afterwards committed it to paper-it was as follows: Towards the close of the sixteenth century, a horrid custom still prevailed in some parts of the coast of Cornwall, of luring vessels to destruction, in stormy weather, by fastening a lantern to a horse's head, and leading it about on the top of the cliffs, that the bewildered mariner, mistaking it for the light of a vessel, and consequently not apprehending land could be in that direction, might be induced to shape his course thither; till In a hovel, on the craggy shore of a deep and dan. gerous bay, dwelt one of these wretches; an old and hardened desperado, who united in himself the fisher. man, smuggler, and wrecker; but to his depraved mind the two latter were the favourite professions, and such was the confidence of his companions, in his experience on these occasions, that he was usually leader, nor did he ever fail in his office. His wife, too, encouraged him in his deeds of iniquity, and sometimes aided in his exploits. Shocked at the wickedness of his parents, their only son had long since fled his home, and, driven away by their cruelty, had sought a more honourable course of life on board a West Indian trader. It was at a period when a long and profitless summer and autumn had nearly passed away, that Terloggan, like the vulture, ever watchful for his prey, was more than usually observant of the signs of the heavens; nor was any one more capable than himself of tracing the most distant indications of tempest. Nature had for several months worn a placid, and to honest minds, a delightful aspect: the soft and azure sky had beautifully tinted the transparent sea, and the expanding waves swept with low murmurings along the shining sands of the deep bay, in mild and stately majesty, playfully casting up their white foamy margins, gently splashing the feet of the craggy rocks. Not more hateful were the beams of the orb of day to Satan, as described by our poet, than was this quiescent state of nature to Terloggan's dark mind: in his impatience he cursed the protracted summer, and hailed the approaching dreary season as more congenial to his interest. At length he saw, with savage delight, the sun sink in angry red beneath the cloudy horizon; he heard with exulting feelings, the hollow murmuring of the wind, and beheld the blackening waves rising in angry roar, lashing the lofty rocks with the ascending spray. As the night advanced in chaotic darkness, the horrors of the tempest increased; and the long and loud blast of the contending elements seemed enough to overawe any mind but Terloggan's. "Now's the time, boy," said the old hag, his wife; "go th'ways out 'pon the cleaves→→→ there's death in the wind." Terloggan speedily equipped himself, and ascended the steep promontory at the entrance of the bay; the lantern was displayed in the usual manner, and he soon observed a light at sea, as if in answer to his own signal, which caused the old demon to rejoice in anticipation of speedy success. The light evidently approached nearer, and ere an hour had sunk on the floor, rolling about in frantic ravings. Terloggan endeavoured to master his feelings, and chid the elapsed, the white close-reefed sails of the vessel could be discerned through the darkness, and the uproarious cry on board, at the discovery of their danger, could be dis-old woman's hasty conclusion; although he was himself tinctly heard. Signal guns of distress were fired-the loud commands, "All hands on deck," and "About ship," were uttered in a wild despairing tone; every exertion was made to carry into effect the salutary orders; but, alas! the redeeming moment was passed, the vessel was completely embayed, nor strength nor skill could avert her impending fate. In a few moments, the tremendous crash, the heart-rending, but fruitless cries for help, announced the horrid catastrophe; and the last flashing signal-gun gave a momentary view too shocking to be described. Alas! it was indeed a piteous scene that followed: the stranded vessel, thrown with reiterated blows against the rugged rocks, soon parted; the broken waves were dashing over her shattered hull in relentless fury, bearing to the shore the scattered cargo, broken pieces of the wreck, and the tattered rigging; while the mingled cries of the drowning and the despairing, with the terrific roar of the striving elements, seemed like Nature's last expiring hour. secretly stung to the heart, and but too apprehensive of the dreadful deed he had committed. He lay on his bed, however, and tossed to and fro till morning, when, with the dawn of day, he walked forth to ascertain if he had really been the destroyer of his child. He reached the spot where he had left the body, and soon as his eyes lighted on the countenance, he beheld his only son. Who can describe the deep remorse that now stung his soul-who can paint the horror that now pervaded even Terloggan's hitherto callous heart! He returned to his hovel, and having related the doleful news, fled the face of man for ever. For several days and nights he was known to wander among the rocks. Many, who accidentally passed near him, shuddered to behold his horror-struck countenance, and to hear his wild ravings of despair. There was, indeed, a tempest in his soul, black and horrible, the transcript of what he had so lately witnessed: and the dreadful forebodings of his conscience, as to futurity, forbade him to call the grave a There was one, however, in whose eyes such a scene hiding place. Thus overwhelmed by despair, and hurwas joyous—in whose ears such sounds were melody-ried to self-destruction, his mangled body was found and that was Terloggan. He impatiently waited till the dashed to pieces among the rocks, and was buried in storm had somewhat moderated, and when silence indi- the sands, not far from the spot where he had perpecated that death had done its work, he descended the trated his last deed of blood. For a considerable period, well-known cliffs to grasp his prey. Unmoved by the the fishermen and smugglers-some of whom had been horrid spectacle, he stood awhile and gazed with fiend- his companions in iniquity-would feel a chill of horror like pleasure on the rich booty that lay around him, in passing near the spot, and observed a melancholy (for the rising moon now shot forth her light) as if at a silence; while their superstitious fears often traced in loss where to begin his work; but to his surprise and the hollow murmurings of the winds and waves, the momentary dismay, there was yet one living soul on doleful cries of the murdered son, and the despairing board, who, should he survive, would bar the wrecker's groans of the remorse-stung father. claim. To dispatch this poor unfortunate, was his immediate object; then scrambling over the rocks, as if to save him from destruction, he becomes his murderer. He rifled the pockets of his victim, took a ring from his finger, and then, laden with the most portable articles of plunder, bent his footsteps homewards. "Well, feyther, what luck?" exclaimed the old woman, as he entered. "Never better," replied Terloggan; "look, zee mauther," pointing to his plunder. He then describes the success that had attended his stratagem—not even withholding the particulars of the murder: after which he displayed some pieces of foreign gold coin, and the ring belonging to the murdered man. As he held the ring near the light, he recognised its form and certain marks on it: he started back, his countenance fell, and he quickly passed it to his wife. She too well knew from whose hand it must have been taken, and no sooner examined it than she exclaimed, "Plaise God, thee'st murdered our son Tom! Oh, my son-my poor dear son!" and THE FLOATING BEACON. Why art thou thus, thou lonely bark, Why art thou here, thou lonely bark, I deemed thee away with those to-day; There came a voice from the lonely bark, And my light shines lone on the sea; Is not my light like that holier light |