whisper expressions of deep and unutterable affection. Happily for us there was such a tempest of wind and sea, as drowned in its wild warfare the expiring sighs of Margaret. At this moment Girod descended to the hold. He put his finger on his lips significantly, and then whispered in French-"Courage-Rescue! There is a sail on our weather bow. She is yet in the offing. Our captain marks her not; but I have watched her sometime with a glass, and if she is not a British sloop of war, my eyes and the glass are deceivers together." I grasped Margaret's hand. She faintly returned the pressure, but gently murmured, "Too late." Ere the lapse of a moment, it was evident that our possible deliverer was discovered by the Demon crew, for we could hear by the bustle of feet and voices that the ship was being put about; and the ferocious and determined voice of the buccaneer chief was heard, even above the roar of the tempest, giving prompt and fierce orders to urge on the Demon. Girod promised to bring us more news, and quitted us. The rush of air into the hold seemed to have revived Margaret, and my hopes began to rise. Yet it was too soon evident that the motion of the vessel was increased, and that the crew were straining every nerve to avoid our hoped-for deliverer. After a while, however, the stormy wind abated; the ship became steadier, and certainly made less way in the waves. A voice over our head said distinctly in French-"The sea is gone down, and the sloop makes signal to us to lay too." A quarter of an hour elapsed, and the voice again said, "The sloop chases us!" Oh! what inexpressibly anxious moments were those. I felt that aid must come, and come speedily, or it would arrive too late. We could discover from the varying cries on deck that the sloop sometimes gained on the Demon, while at others the pirate got fearful head of her pursuer. At length Girod de39 ATHENEUM, VOL. 5, 3d series. scended to the hold. "The die is cast!" he said in his native language. "The sloop gains fast on us. We are about to clear the deck for action."-"God be praised," I ejaculated." Amen!" responded a faint and gentle voice."Do not praise Him too soon," said Girod, shrugging his shoulders; "our captain is preparing for a victory. The Demon has mastered her equals, ay, and her superiors, and this sloop is our inferior in size and numbers. The captain does not even care to come to an accommodation with her. He has hoisted the Demon flag, and restored her name to the stern.". "But has his motley crew," whispered I, anxiously, ever encountered a British foe of equal strength?". "I cannot tell-I cannot tell; I have been in her but a short time, and will be out of her on the first occasion," said Girod, as he hastily quitted us. We now heard all the noise of preparation for an engagement. The furniture was removed from the cabin above us, and the cabin itself thrown partially open to the deck. Cannon were lashed and primed; concealed port-holes opened, and guns placed at them. Seeing ultimate escape impossible, the captain took in sail and determined to give his vessel the advantage of awaiting the foe in an imposing state of preparation for action. He harangued his men in terms calculated to arouse their brute courage, and excite their cupidity. I confess I now almost began to tremble for the gallant little vessel, whose crew seemed thus bravely pressing on to their own destruction; I began to fear that they would be powerless to rescue her in whose life my own seemed bound up. But what were my feelings when I heard the captain retire to that part of the vessel which had been the countess's cabin, and there take a solemn and secret oath of his principal shipmates, that they would, if they were boarded by a successful enemy, scuttle the Demon, and sink her, and her crew, and her captors, in one common grave. It appeared, then, that either the failure, or the success of the sloop, would alike seal our destruction. Not a ray of light now penetrated through the chinks of the trapdoor, and from the heavy weights which had fallen over it, I was inclined to think that shot, or even cannon-balls, had been placed over the mouth of our prison. We might, therefore, in vain attempt to show ourselves, or make our voices heard amid the din of war, should our allies (doomed to a watery tomb even in the midst of conquest) prove victorious. Yet condemned, as we seemed, alike by the fall or the triumph of our self-supposed murderers, there was something in the oath imposed by the captain which, as it showed a feeling of doubt as to the result, inspired me with hope. Besides, the noise of preparation for action had in it something inspiriting to my ear; and as it effectually drowned every other sound, I drew Margaret from behind the sacking into the most roomy part of our wooden dungeon; endeavored, by fanning her with her handkerchief, to create a little freshness of air around her; and spoke to her aloud, in the voice of hope and courage. It was a terrible thing, in such an anxious moment, to be unable to see or hear distinctly aught on which our fate depended. I listened anxiously for a signal of the sloop's nearing us. At length a ship-trumpet, at a distance, demanded, safe and unhurt, the persons of Colonel Francillon, the Countess of Falcondale, and two female domestics. It was then evident that the pirate's stratagem at Malta had transpired. The Demon's trumpet made brief and audacious reply:-"Go seek them at the bottom of the sea." A broadside from the sloop answered this impudent injunction, and was followed by a compliment in kind from the Demon, evidently discharged from a greater number of guns. The volleys continued. Our vessel reeled to and fro, and sometimes half rose out of the wa ter with the violence of the shocks she received. I heard her masts cracking, and her timbers flying in every direction. Yet still her men continued their yell of triumph, and her guns seemed to be served with as much spirit as ever. At length the firing on both sides appeared to slacken. One of the vessels was evidently approaching the other for the purpose of boarding. But which was the successful adventurer? My heart almost ceased to beat with intense expectation. The heavy grinding of the two ships against each others' sides was soon heard; and, not an instant after, the shouts of the sloop's crew rose triumphantly over our heads. Long and desperately raged the combat above us; but the pirates' yell waxed fainter and fainter; while the victorious shouts of the British seamen, mixed with the frequent and fearful cry, "No quarter, no quarter to the robbers!" became each instant louder and more triumphant. length every sound of opposition from the Demon crew seemed almost to cease. But there was still so much noise on deck, that I in vain essayed to make my voice heard ;-and for the trap-door, it defied all my efforts-it was immoveable. At this crisis, the ship, which had hitherto been springing and reeling with the fierce fire she had received from her adversary, and the motion of her own guns, suddenly began to settle into an awful and suspicious quiescence. But the victors were apparently too busy in the work of retribution to heed this strange and portentous change. I perceived, however, only too clearly, that the Demon was about finally to settle for sinking. After the lapse of a few seconds, it seemed that the conquerors themselves became at last aware of the treacherous gulph that was preparing to receive them; and a hundred voices exclaimed, “To the sloop!-to the sloop! The ship is going down-the ruffians are sink- the sinking Demon offered no spectacle for woman's eye. There lay the mangled bodies of our late dreaded jailors, their fast-stiffening countenances still retaining, in cold death itself, that expression of daring and brute ferocity which seemed effaceable only by the absolute decomposition of their hardened features. I shall never forget the scene of desolation presented by that deck, lying like a vast plank or raft of slaughtered bodies, almost level with the sea, whose waters dashed furiously over it, and then receding from their still ineffectual attempt to overwhelm the vessel, returned all dyed with crimson to the ocean; while the sun, setting in a stormy and angry sky, threw his rays for the last time-in lurid and fitful gleams on the ruined Demon. ing her!" I now literally called out until my voice became a hoarse scream. I struck violently against the top of our sinking dungeon. I pushed the trap-door with my whole force. All was in vain.-I heard the sailors rushing eagerly to their own vessel, and abandoning that of the pirates to destruction. I took Margaret's hand and held it up towards heaven, as if it could better than my own plead there for us. All was silent. Not a sound was heard in the once fiercely-manned Demon, save the rushing of the waters in at the holes where she had been scuttled by her desperate crew. It almost seemed that-determined not to survive her capture -she were eager to suck in the billows which would sink her to oblivion. At last, as if she had received her fill, she began to go down with a rapidity which seemed to send us, in an instant, many feet deeper beneath the waves, and I now expected every moment to hear them gather over the deck, and then overwhelm us forever. I uttered a prayer, and clasped Margaret in my arms. But no voice, no sigh, proceeded from the companion of my grave. Her hand was cold, and her pulse quiet; and I deemed that the spirit had warred with, and overcome its last enemy, ere our common grave yawned to receive us. Voices were heard; weights seemed to be removed from the trap-door! It was opened; and the words "Good heaven! the fellow is right; they are here sure enough!" met my almost incredulous ear. I heheld a British officer, a sailor or two, and Girod with his hands tied behind him. I held up my precious burthen, who was received into the arms of her compatriots, and then, like one in a dream, sprang from my long prison. Perhaps it might be well that Margaret's eye was half closed in death at that moment; for the deck of A deep, and, as it seemed, longpent sigh escaped from the bosom of Margaret when the fresh breath of heaven first played on her white cheek. I would have thanked her brave deliverers-have gazed on her to see if life still returned-but the sea was gaining fast on us, and I had lost the free use of my limbs by my lengthened and cramped confinement. To one human being, however, I did not forget my gratitude. As we hurriedly prepared to spring into the boat, I saw that Girod's pinioned members refused him the prompt aid necessary for effecting an escape in such a moment. I returned, seized a bloody cutlass that lay on deck, and, without leave of the officer, cut at once through the bonds which confined our first deliverer." This man," I said, as we seated ourselves, "has been the instrument of Heaven for our preservation. I will make myself answerable for his liberty and kind treatment." Girod seized my hand, which received a passionate Gallic salute. Our sailors now rowed hard to avoid being drawn into the vortex of the sinking ship. Merciful God! we were then out of the Demon! I supported Margaret in my arms; and as I saw her bosom again heave, a renewed glow of hope rushed to my heart. We had not been on board the sloop many minutes ere, slowly and awfully, the Demon sank to the same eternal grave to which she had so often doomed her victims. We saw the top of the main-mast, which had borne her fatal flag above the waters, tremble like a point on their very surface, and then vanish beneath them. A frightful chasm yawned for a moment-it was then closed by the meeting waves, which soon rolled peacefully over the vessel they had engulphed; and the Demon, so long the terror of the seas and the scourge of mariners, disappeared forever. Here abruptly terminated my relative's narration; and if any reader should have felt just sufficient in terest in it to wonder whether Margaret died, and whether Colonel Francillon attended her funeral as chief-mourner; or whether after all she recovered, and was married to the Colonel,-I can only briefly say, that the sloop put into Naples, where the Countess was soon placed under a skilful physician. He pronounced her case hopeless, and my relative had only the melancholy satisfaction of reflecting that her dying hour would be peaceful, and her lovely remains honored by Christian burial. She passed from the hands of her physician into those of the British ambassador's chaplain; but I do not think it could have been for the purpose of religious interment-as I enjoyed, for nearly forty years after this period, the inestimable privilege of calling the Colonel and the Countess my revered father and mother! ON MR. OWEN'S SYSTEM. SIR, On the meeting which was held on Wednesday, the 20th October, at the London Tavern, by Mr. Owen, and on the doctrines which he advanced, with your permission, I beg to offer a few observations, especially as this pretended philanthropist-this brilliant luminary-this revealer of a new religion, which is to make the community of man virtuous and happy, left no opportunity or time for reply; and as his self-willed deluded votaries, no doubt from well-ascertained evidence of the infallibility of their oracle, would listen to no reply, lest the light which he had poured on their benighted minds, should be shown to be darkness visible. In all that Mr. Owen propagates, it is clearly implied, that he is the greatest philanthropist that has yet appeared in the world; that he is more generous and disinterested than any of the sons of men; that he has larger and juster views than any philosopher of ancient or modern times that he is the most ho nest, if not the only honest man, that ever lived-that he is the only person that has discovered the path to universal purity and felicitythat the whole world are now in darkness, and that light exists no where but in his mind, and in his writings-that he has more knowledge and experience in human affairs than all men of all past ages and generations that the light which is to fill the whole universe with its blaze, is to burst forth to the delight, wonder, and admiration of all nations, in his next lecture, when it will appear that all men, save and except Mr. Owen, are fools, ignoramuses, or knavesthat Bacon and Newton, and Locke and Butler-that all the illustrious names of all nations, have been either weak, blind enthusiasts, or united and leagued together to keep the world in ignorance, misery, poverty, vice, and crime. Truly this gentleman is excessively modest in his pretensions! I believe there is some truth in the doctrine of Mr. David Hume, that nothing is so effectual in gaining a man credit in the world as a good stock of assurance ; I do not mean the assurance of faith, but audacity bottomed as it commonly is on ignorance of one's own self, and on loathsome vanity and self-conceit. Mr. Owen told the meeting that he was, if not the only practical man in existence, at least the most practical, his whole life having been directed to practice. But as most boasters in practice, Mr. Owen discards all theory, system, or principle. His lecture consisted of a tissue of loose, incoherent rhapsodies, cemented by an implacable enmity to religion in every form in which it has yet appeared in the world. Destruction being the end, aim, and scope of all his philanthropical labors, he may very properly be styled Abaddon or Apolyon, that is, destroyer. No good, he said, again and again, could be done, until religion, which he called the parent of all the misery, vice, ignorance, and crime, now, or that has ever been in the world, were totally and forever eradicated and obliterated from the mind of man. Then this great masterbuilder is to lay the foundation stone of a new golden age—a millenium surpassing all that fabulist, poet, philosopher, or prophet has predicted, or conceived in the wildest frenzies of enthusiasm, or under the most powerful and happy inspiration. Mr. Owen told the meeting he lived for the world; that whatever fortune he had, he had used it for the world; and that all which he had expended on the world, he had spent without regret. We may therefore look for the records of this gentleman's benevolence in every state, city, village, or hamlet, which he has visited. But where is the prisoner whom he has rescued from his dungeon? Where is the captive that he has ransomed? Where are the hungry that he has fed, the naked that he has clothed, the sick to whom he has ministered? Mr. Owen may reply, his efforts have all been upon a large scale, they have been spread over the world; that he has spent his fortune, and employed his time and abilities, in attempts to remove superstition-the principal if not the sole impediment to universal illumination and happiness-that he has been serving mankind in the most comprehensive manner-that he has not dissipated his energies in insulated attempts to benefit individuals; but that he has hitherto kept steadily in his eye the whole family of man. He has spent four thousand pounds in puffing his schemes in the newspapers; but as these schemes, though practical, have not been reduced to practice, the good of his efforts is yet to come; and as he openly avows he can do no good till religion, as hitherto taught in the world, has been banished from the earth, ages,-or millions of ages, may intervene before a single individual in this distracted or miserable world can be warmed and cheered with a solitary ray of the sun of philanthropy that arose at New Lanark, in the eighteenth century of the Christian era. In these remarks I have no personal feeling against Mr. Owen, whom I regard as a weak, wellmeaning, crazy enthusiast, that would do good, if he knew how to set about it; but his opinions being so mixed up, or rather identified with himself, it is necessary, in attacking them, to divest them of all extraneous merit, to detach them as much as possible from himself, and to consider them also in their prac tical operation on his efforts. sides, it is the course which Mr. Owen himself pursues in attacking Christianity, which he classes with all the impure and degrading superstitions that have ever appeared in the world; and it was the course which he pursued in his discourse or sermon, on the disadvantages of religious instruction in all present existing forms, delivered on Wed Be |