gradually sank in the water, and finally disappeared. Thus, about seventy persons were landed upon the island, without the means of leaving it. So soft was the climate, so beautiful the little hills and valleys, so delicious the fruitsthat all seemed to forget their various plans and disappointments in the prospect of spending the remainder of their lives there.

Nothing could exceed the efforts of Brusque and Piquet to make their new friends comfortable and happy. Men, women, and children, all seemed for a time to emulate each other in helping forward the preparations for mutual comfort. Tents were erected, sleeping apartments with beds or mats were provided, and in less than a week all the necessaries of life were distributed to every member of their little colony.

The reflective mind of Brusque had already suggested the necessity of adopt ing some system of government, for even this small colony he knew could not get along without it. Under the pressure of calamity or emergency, a spirit of mutual accommodation might exist, and for a time might enable the little society to proceed without disturbance. But he foresaw that a state of quiet and comfort would bring occasions of discontent and disorder, which must result in violence, if all could not be subjected to the sway of some just system of laws. These views he suggested to the captain of the vessel, to Emilie's father, and to several others. It was at length agreed by some of the principal men that the people should be assembled, and the adoption of a form of government be proposed. This was done, and Brusque, the captain, and Emilie's father were appointed a committee to draw up a constitution. They attended to this duty, and in a few days the people were called together to hear the report of the committee.

Brusque proceeded to read the document, and then he made some remarks in explanation of it. He said that the plan of a constitution which had just been read was partly copied from that of the United States of America-a nation which had recently arisen among mankind, and promised soon to be the most flourishing and happy people upon the face of the earth. He then went on to say that the constitution just read contained the following principles:

1. All mankind are born with equal rights and privileges; all are entitled to the same degree of liberty; all are equally entitled to the protection and benefit of the laws.

2. All government should spring from the people, and have the good of the people for its object.

3. That all government implies the abridgment of natural liberty, and that the people ought to submit to such abridgments, so far as the good of society required.

The constitution then proceeded to prescribe a form of government, consisting of three branches: 1st, of a President, who should see to the general affairs of the colony, and to the execution of the laws, who should be called the Executive; 2d, of three judges, who should decide all disputes, to be called the Judiciary; and 3d, of an assembly, chosen by the people every year to make laws, called the Legislature. It also established the following principles:

1. Every man of the age of twentyone years should be a citizen, and be permitted to vote for members of the legislature and other officers.

2. A majority of votes shall be necessary for a choice.

3. The land of the island shall be divided between the families, in proportion to their numbers, by the judges, and then each person shall be protected in his possessions, and the property he acquires.

4. Any citizen shall be competent to fill any office to which he is chosen.

Such were the outlines of the constitution, as set forth by Brusque in presence of all the men of the colony. A profound silence followed the remarks of the orator. But, at length, a man named Rogere rose, and said that he did not like the proposed constitution. For his part, he did not see the necessity of any government. He had, in France only seen iniquity, and folly, and crime, following the footsteps of government, whether admitted by kings or citizens, and he believed that the best way was to get along without it. "For my part," said he, "I believe that liberty is the greatest political good, and the moment you begin to make laws, you put fetters upon it. As soon as you establish a government, you prepare to smother or strangle it. Of what use is liberty to the eagle when you have broken his wing, or to the mountain deer when you have cut the sinews of his limbs, or to man when it is doled out by magistrates, who may say how much we shall have, and how we may exercise it? Take from man his liberty, and you sink him as far as you can to the standard of the brute! Give him liberty, and he is but little lower than the angels! Then why restrain liberty? Why take it for granted that the first step in society is to fetter human freedom and trench upon human rights? Let us be wiser than to be guided by a prejudice; let us venture to depart from the beaten path, and strike out something new. I close by moving that we dispense with government altogether; that we rely upon the moral sense of mankind, which rests upon an innate perception of justice. This is sufficient for our safety and our happi

ness."

Brusque was not a little disappointed to observe, as Rogere sat down, that there was a pervading feeling of approbation

of what he had said. In vain did he oppose the views of Rogere; in vain did he show that it was impossible for sociey to have order without laws, to maintain justice, peace and security without government. In vain did he appeal to history and the past experience of mankind. The idea of perfect freedom was too fascinating to the majority; and the assembly finally decided, by an overwhelming vote, to reject the proposed constitution, and to make the experiment of living without laws or government.

The subject, however, became a matter of discussion among the people, and they were soon divided into two parties, called the Brusqueites and the Rogereites; the former being in favor of a government, and the latter in favor of unlimited freedom. Things went on quietly for a time, for the people were all French, and their good breeding seemed to render the restraints and obligations of enacted statutes, less important. Beside, the island abounded in fruit, and there seemed such a supply of food, as to afford little ground for dispute as to the possession of property. As for shelter, the climate was so mild as to render the covering of a tent sufficient for comfort.

But occasions of collision soon arose. Some articles brought from the ship had been claimed and taken into use by one of the sailors as his own; but now another sailor insisted that they were his. An altercation of words followed between the two, and at last they came to blows. In the struggle, one of them was killed. This event cast a cloud over the little colony, but it was transient. It was forgotten in a few days. Other quarrels, however, soon followed; and finally the whole society was in a state of anarchy and confusion. It was now obvious that reason had lost its power, and that the weak were exposed to violence and injustice from the strong.

Among the people of the colony were several rude men, who, finding that there was no punishment to be feared, began to be very insolent; and it was not a little remarkable that Rogere usually associated with these persons, and seemed even to countenance their injustice and their tyranny. At last, he was evidently considered their leader, and being much more intelligent than his followers, he was soon able to govern them as he pleased. In order to secure his ascendency over their minds, he flattered them by holding forth the prospect of unbounded liberty. He encouraged them in their acts of licentiousness, and pretended that this was freedom. He sought to prejudice their minds against Brusque and the other members of the community who were in favor of a government of equal laws, by insisting that they were aristocrats or monarchists, who wished to enslave the people. Thus, by playing upon the passions of his party, Rogere soon made them subservient to his will. While he pretended to be a friend of freedom he was now actually a despot; and while his followers were made to believe that they were enjoying liberty, they were in fact the slaves of a cunning tyrant. Nor was this all. While claiming to be the liberal party, the party that favored human rights and human freedom, they were daily guilty of acts of injustice, violence and wrong, toward some of the people of the island.

It was in this state of things that, one pleasant evening, Emilie walked to the sea-shore, which was at no great distance from the tent in which she lived. The moon occasionally shone out from the clouds that were drifting across the sky, and threw its silver light upon the waves that came with a gentle swell and broke upon the pebbly beach. The scene was tranquil, but it could not soothe the heart of Emilie, who had now

many causes of anxiety. The disturbed state of the little community upon the island, the brawls and riots that were occurring almost every day, and a general feeling of fear and insecurity which she shared with her friends, had cast a deep gloom over her mind. The conduct of Rogere had been offensive to her on several occasions, but that which caused her most vexation and sorrow was the strange demeanor of Brusque, her former lover. On the night of their deliverance from the pirates on board the ship, he had made himself known to her, and their meeting was marked with all the fondness and confidence of former times. But from that period, he had treated her only with common civility. He had indeed been most careful to provide for her comfort and that of her parents. Though he had been very industrious in promoting the general welfare of the colony, it was apparent that he felt a special interest in contributing to the peace and happiness of Emilie and her aged parents. By his care their tent was so contrived as to afford a perfect shelter, and it was supplied with everything which circumstances permitted, that could minister to the pleasure of its inmates. It was daily provided with the finest oranges, the freshest figs, and the choicest pineapples. And it was evident that this was all done either by Brusque himself, or by some one at his bidding. But still, he seldom came to the tent; he never sought any private conversation with Emilie; and sometimes, when he looked upon her, she could perceive that his countenance bespoke a deep but melancholy interest; and no sooner was his feeling noticed, than he hastened to disguise it.

While Emilie was walking upon the beach, she thought of all these things; of the unsettled state of the colony, the uncertainty of their fate, and of the rude

manner in which she had been addressed by Rogere. But her mind dwelt longest and with the deepest interest upon the mysterious demeanor of Brusque. It was while she was pursuing this train of thought that she was startled at perceiving the figure of a man partly hidden in the shadow of a high rock which stood close to the water's edge, and which she was now approaching. But we must reserve the scene which followed for another chapter. (To be continued.)

The Sun.

THE sun is rising! Did you ever think of the many benefits produced by the sun? Let us go upon the top of a hill, and see the sun rise, and consider, for a moment, the effects that are produced.

Do you see that the darkness, which had fallen over the whole face of nature, is gone? Do you see that even the valley is filled with light? Does not all this remind you of God, who said, at the beginning of the world, "Let there be light, and there was light?"

Light, then, spread over the land, is one of the first effects of the sun's rising. And do you see that the birds are all abroad now, singing their songs, and seeking their food? How happy they appear to be! And do you not feel happy too? Does not everything seem happy to see the light, and feel that day has come once more?

Do you observe that vast sheet of white vapor that is rising from yonder valley? It is rising in consequence of the warmer air that is produced by the rising of the sun. Do you not feel that the shining of the sun upon you makes

you warmer ?

Warmth, then, diffused over the earth, is another effect produced by the rising of the sun. And how pleasant is this warmth! But do you know, that, if it were not for the warmth of the sun, the trees and plants and flowers would not grow? Do you know, that, without this warmth, all the earth would be covered with ice, and that all men and animals would die?

You see, then, how important the sun is, and how great are the benefits of the light and heat which it sends abroad over the world. Let us be thankful to God every morning for the light and heat of the sun. These are the sources of life to everything that grows or feels.

Night.

THE sun is setting in the west! It seems to go down behind the hills. Darkness is creeping over the valleys. The birds have ceased their song, and are gathering into the forest or the thick branches of the trees.

The hen has gone to her shelter, and gathered her chickens under her wing. The flies and gnats and butterflies are gone to their rest. The cows and sheep have lain down to their repose.

Stillness seems to have come over the world. The sun has set. It is dark. It is getting chill and damp. It is night.

Do you see those little shining points in the sky? What are they? We call them stars, but they are worlds far away, and probably they are covered with trees, and hills, and rivers, and cities, and people.

We cannot go to them, nor can any one come from them to tell us about them. They are God's worlds, and they are no doubt as useful as they are

beautiful.

How wonderful is night! How fearful would it be if it were to last forever! But we know that the sun will come tomorrow, to give us its cheerful light and heat. Let us go to rest, then, for night is made for sleep.

But let us first think of that great and good Being, who has made all these wonders of nature. Let us put our trust in Him. In his care we are safe. But we must ask his protection, and seek his forgiveness for all our faults.

Oh, how fearful would it be if there were no God! How sad would it be, if God were not our friend! How sad would it be, if we were to be unkind to others, and to feel that He might not be kind to us! How sad would it be, if we were so wicked as to feel afraid of Him, the best and kindest of all beings!

This would indeed be dreadful. But we may all be good if we try to be so. Even if we have done wrong, we may go to Him, and ask his forgiveness; and if we ask sincerely, He will not refuse it.

Did you never disobey your father or mother, and, having done so, have you not begged their pardon? And, having done this, have you not been forgiven? And is not this forgiveness pleasant to the heart? Let me tell you, that God is as ready to be kind and forgiving to his children, as parents are to be so to theirs.

Let no fear of God, then, prevent your loving Him, praying to Him, or asking his forgiveness. The more you have sinned, the more careful you should be to look up to Him, and pray to Him, and ask his counsel and pardon. Those who have been most wicked, have most reason to love God; for his kindness is great enough to pardon even them.

HOGG'S FATHER.-The father of the poet Hogg, the famous Ettrick Shepherd

of Scotland, was a man of peculiar character in one respect-he never would confess or allow that he could be beaten or defeated in anything. One wintry day, he and his son were out on a hill during a snow-storm, looking after the safety of the sheep, when, the old man having inadvertently gone too near the brow, the snow gave way, and he was precipitated to the bottom. The Shepherd, alarmed for the safety of his father, looked down the side of the hill, and not only saw him standing on his feet seemingly unhurt, but he heard him crying, at the top of his voice, Jamie, my man, ye were aye fond of a slide a' ye're days; let me see you do that!" The above expression displayed his selfesteem; he wished to pass the accident off upon his son for a feat. On another occasion, having slipped his foot on going up a hill, and fallen prostrate on his nose, he said to an individual accompanying him, “Eh, I think I had like to have fallen!" Once an unruly mare having run away with him, a group of men observed him rush past with a face of great concern and fear; but when the beast had exhausted its strength, and allowed itself to be once more guided by the rein, Mr. Hogg came back, making a great show of mastery over it, and muttering, so as to be heard by the bystanders, "I think I hae sobered her!”