'I cannot write more-non sum qualis eram! the sun shines brightly on me still as in my childod, and the future is full of hope. If I have cleared self of the imputation of the folly and heartlessness ne have laid to my charge, it is well; I cannot nk that my proceedings have been very dreadful, sinful; they did not frighten honest-hearted, noble ed Graham.

"And after this, when you see a woman whose nduct to you is quite unexplainable, and full of ystery, listen, dear friend, and bid those around ou listen a little more earnestly, to the voice of iman love and Christian charity; and trust me, e number of women who have the power to act ng in direct opposition to all the better impulses of oman's nature, is surprisingly small.

"If your trust continues in me still unshaken, as in e days gone by, come ere long to Wisconsin, and will insure you a husband of the 'free soil,' who hall bear as little resemblance to our faithless George, as my Ned does-and a home in the wilderess, this glorious wilderness.

"God bless you, love-good bye!

I have not yet obeyed the call of my friend to the far west," now her happy home. Do you think it dvisable that I should place myself in the hands of uch a-; but first let me ask you,

Do you think Florence Cleveland was a coquette? And-is this once prolific topic yet exhausted?

I cannot conclude this discourse, my hearers," without repeating to you a song, which appeared some years ago in "Graham." It is by Miss Barrett. Has it ever yet been "set to music?" if not, I would advise some composer to neglect no longer so beautiful an effusion. And when the deed is done, let every lady learn the song, and every gentleman stand by and listen to it humbly. Here it is.

THE LADY'S YES.

"Yes!" I answered you last night-
"No!" this morning, sir, I say;
Colors seen by candlelight,
Cannot look the same by day.
When the tabors played their best,
And the dancers were not slow,
"Love me" sounded like a jest,
Fit for "yes" or fit for "no."

Thus the sin is on us both;
Was the dance a time to woo?
Wooer light makes fickle troth-
Scorn of me recoils on you.

Learn to win a lady's faith
Nobly, as the thing is high-
Bravely, as in fronting death,
With a virtuous gravity.

Lead her from the painted boards-
Point her to the starry skies-
Guard her by your truthful words,
Pure from courtship's flatteries.
By your truth she shall be true-
Ever true, as wives of yore,
And her "yes" once said to you,
Shall be yes for evermore.

"A MAN Overboard!"

in the right direction, he, too, looked off to leeward.

ed me astern.

"Who?-where?"

"Heave over a coop!"

"Can you see him?"

"Clear away the quarter-boat!"

These were the cries that followed each other in rapid succession, accompanied with the hurried tread of feet, which rose even over the sounds of the whistling hurricane and of the roaring water in which I was immersed.

We had been out from from Marseilles about three days, and were now well up with the Straits. A gale which had begun just after dawn had increased with such violence that before the afternoon set in we were lying-to under a storm stay-sail. Noticing that the heel of the boom was chafing loose, I had gone aloft to repair it, when a sudden lurch tore the spar from its fastenings, and flung me into the air like a ball shot from a twenty-four.

At first I sunk plumb, as if tied to a shot; but in a few seconds began to ascend. When I reached the surface, however, it was to find myself whirling from the vessel's side, with a confused noise of the howling tempest and the bubbling waters in my ears: yet over all rose the shouts of my messmates.

I was so blinded by the water that I could not immediately see. I spun around and around as in a whirlpool, for I had been caught in the eddies under the stern. I looked to windward, too, for the ship; forgetting that a heavy vessel would make more leeway than my light person. Just as I sunk in the trough of the sea, however, I caught sight of the tall spars pitching a short distance to leeward; and when I rose on the next wave I took care to have my eyes fixed in that direction. I could now behold the men in the rigging on the look-out, and hear again distinctly their eager and excited cries. They were all gazing to leeward, and consequently could not see

me.

"Whereaway is he?"

"I can't see him-can you?"

and within hearing too, in consequence of this mistake of my messmates? I raised my voice and shouted. I could still hear the answers.

"Ahoy!-aho-o-y!"

"There that was his voice certainly-can't you see him yet?"

Ahoy!-ahoy!-aho-o-y!" I repeated, straining my lungs to the utmost.

"Hillo!" replied the stentorian voice of the skipper, the words struggling faintly against the wind. The ship was rapidly drifting down to leeward, and I knew that if not soon discovered I was lost, so I shouted again.

"Aho-o-y!-A-hoy!-A-hoy!-Aho-o-y!"

The last word was frantically prolonged, and I watched its effect for a full minute with intense anxiety. It was evident from the manner in which my comrades on board glanced anew around the horizon, as also from the shouts which they uttered in reply, that my cry had reached them. I could not indeed hear their hail, but saw their hands to their mouths as when persons shout loudly. Alas! the same fatal error of still looking in the wrong direction prevailed among them: not an eye was turned to windward. My heart died within me.

"Oh, God!" I cried, "they do not hear me, and I am lost. My mother-my poor, poor mother."

I forgot to mention that, on my falling overboard, the cook, who had been cleaning knives in the galley, had mechanically flung the board he was using into the sea. Luckily it floated near me, and catching it, I placed it, end up, under my chin, and thus supported my head above the water without difficulty. But for this, perhaps, I should have been wearied out already by the surges which would have broke over me continually, but which I now generally rode. I also had on my oilskin cap and coat: an equally fortunate circumstance.

After giving way, therefore, for a few minutes to despondency, as I saw the ship drifting off, I rallied myself, and, reflecting that hope never dies while

"Hillo!" "Hil-hil-loa!"