The vessel was implicitly yielded to his government, and during those anxious moments when she was dashing the waters aside, throwing the spray over her enormous yards, every ear would listen eagerly for those sounds that had obtained a command over the crew, which can only be acquired, under such circumstances, by great steadiness and consummate skill.

The ship was recovering from the inaction of changing her course in one of those critical tacks that she had made so often, when the pilot, for the first time, addressed the commander of the frigate, who still continued to superintend the all-important duty of the leadsman.

"Now is the pinch," he said; "and if the ship behaves well, we are safe-but, if otherwise, all we have yet done will be useless."

The veteran seaman whom he addressed left the chains at this portentous notice, and, calling to his first lieutenant, required of the stranger an explanation of his warning.

"See you yon light on the southern headland?” returned the pilot; "you may know it from the star near it by its sinking, at times, in the ocean. Now observe the hummock, a little north of it, looking like a shadow in the horizon-'tis a hill far inland. If we keep that light open from the hill we shall do well-but if not, we surely go to pieces."

"Let us tack again!" exclaimed the lieutenant.

The pilot shook his head as he replied, "There is no more tacking or boxhauling to be done tonight. We have barely room to pass out of the shoals on this course, and if we can weather the

"Devil's Grip," we clear their outermost point-but if not, as I said before, there is but one alternative."

"If we had beaten out the way we entered," exclaimed Griffith, "we should have done well."

"Say, also, if the tide would have let us do so," returned the pilot calmly. “Gentlemen, we must be prompt; we have but a mile to go, and the ship appears to fly. That topsail is not enough to keep her up to the wind; we want both jib and mainsail."

""Tis a perilous thing to loosen canvas in such a tempest!" observed the thoughtful captain. "It must be done," returned the collected stranger; we perish without. See! the light already touches the edge of the hummock, the sea casts us leeward!"

"It shall be done," cried Griffith, seizing the trumpet from the hand of the pilot.

The orders of the lieutenant were executed almost as soon as issued, and, every thing being ready, the enormous folds of the mainsail were trusted loose to the blast. There was an instant when the result was doubtful, the tremendous threshing of the heavy sails seeming to bid defiance to all restraint, shaking the ship to her center, but art and strength prevailed, and gradually the canvas was distended, and drawn down to its usual place by the power of a hundred men. The vessel yielded to this immense addition of force, and bowed before it like a reed bending to a breeze. But the success of the measure was announced by a joyful cry from the stranger that seemed to burst from his inmost soul.

"She feels it! She springs her luff! Observe," he aid, "the light opens from the hummock already; if she will only bear her canvas, we shall go clear!"

A report like that of a cannon interrupted his exclamation, and something resembling a white cloud was seen drifting before the wind from the head of the ship, till it was driven into the gloom far to leeward.

""Tis the jib blown from the bolt-ropes," said the commander of the frigate. "This is no time to spread light duck-but the mainsail may stand it yet."

"The sail would laugh at a tornado," returned the lieutenant; "but the mast springs like a piece of steel."

"Silence all!" cried the pilot. we shall soon know our fate. you can."

"Now, gentlemen, Let her luff-luff

This warning effectually closed all discourse, and the hardy mariners, knowing that they had already done all in the power of man to insure their safety, stood in breathless anxiety awaiting the result. At a short distance ahead of them, the whole ocean was white with foam, and the waves, instead of rolling on in regular succession, appeared to be tossing about in mad gambols.

A single streak of dark billows, not half a cable's length in width, could be discerned running into the chaos of water; but it was soon lost to the eye amid the confusion of the disturbed element. Along this narrow path the vessel moved more heavily than before, being brought so near to the wind as to keep her sails touching.

The pilot silently proceeded to the wheel, and with his own hands undertook the steerage of the ship. No noise proceeded from the frigate to interrupt the horrid tumult of the ocean, and she entered the channel among the breakers with the silence of a desperate calmness. Twenty times as the foam rolled away to leeward the crew were on the eve of uttering their joy, as they supposed the vessel past the danger; but breaker after breaker would still rise before them, following one another into the general mass, to check their exultation.

Occasionally the fluttering of the sails would be heard; and when the looks of the startled seamen were turned to the wheel, they beheld the stranger grasping its spokes, with his quick eye glancing from the water to the canvas. At length the ship reached a point where she appeared to be rushing directly into the jaws of destruction, when suddenly her course was changed, and her head receded rapidly from the wind. At the same instant the voice of the pilot was heard shouting, "Square away the yards-in mainsail!"

A general burst from the crew echoed, “Square away the yards!" and quick as thought the frigate was seen gliding along the channel before the wind. The eye had hardly time to dwell on the foam, which seemed like clouds driving in the heavens, and directly the gallant vessel issued from her perils, and rose and fell on the heavy waves of the open sea.

J. FENIMORE COOPER.

Biography.-James Fenimore Cooper was born at Burlington, New Jersey, in 1789, and died at Cooperstown, New York, in 1851. Cooper entered Yale College at the age of thirteen, and after pursuing his studies for three years, was appointed a midship