ain
Coram's ship sprung a leak and the carpenter could not stop it, and the
passengers had made up their minds that it was all over with them, all
at once, without any apparent reason, the pumps began gaining on the
leak, and the sinking ship to lift herself out of the abyss which was
swallowing her up. And what do you think it was that saved the ship, and
Captain Coram, and so in due time gave to London that Foundling Hospital
which he endowed, and under the floor of which he lies buried? Why, it
was that very supernumerary fish, which we held of so little account,
but which had wedged itself into the rent of the yawning planks, and
served to keep out the water until the leak was finally stopped.

I am very sure it was Captain Coram, but I almost hope it was somebody
else, in order to give some poor fellow who is lying in wait for the
periodicals a chance to correct me. That will make him happy for a
month, and besides, he will not want to pick a quarrel about anything
else if he has that splendid triumph. You remember Alcibiades and his
dog's tail.

Here you have the extracts I spoke of from the manuscript placed in my
hands for revision and emendation. I can understand these alternations
of feeling in a young person who has been long absorbed in a single
pursuit, and in whom the human instincts which have been long silent
are now beginning to find expression. I know well what he wants; a great
deal better, I think, than he knows himself.

WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.

II

Brief glimpses of the bright celestial spheres,
False lights, false shadows, vague, uncertain gleams,
Pale vaporous mists, wan streaks of lurid flame,
The climbing of the upward-sailing cloud,
The sinking of the downward-falling star,
All these are pictures of the changing moods
Borne through the midnight stillness of my soul.

Here am I, bound upon this pillared rock,
Prey to the vulture of a vast desire
That feeds upon my life. I burst my bands
And steal a moment's freedom from the beak,
The clinging talons and the shadowing plumes;
Then comes the false enchantress, with her song;
"Thou wouldst not lay thy forehead in the dust
Like the base herd that feeds and breeds and dies!
Lo, the fair garlands that I weave for thee,
Unchanging as the belt Orion wears,
Bright as the jewels of the seven-starred Crown,
The spa