Owen's hand grasped that of his boy, tears flowed down his cheeks, and he was heard to say fervently, "THE LORD BE PRAISED!" 1 reprieve, the suspension, or putting off, of a sentence (of death). 2 stoop, a kind of verandahı, running round the lower storey of a house. incredibly, beyond the bounds of belief. THE LOST ATLANTIC CABLE. a-chieve'-ment el-ec-tri'-cians en-thu'-si-asm OUR work was not over. After landing the cable safely at Newfoundland, we had another task-to return to mid-ocean, and recover that lost in the expedition of last year. This 1achievement has, perhaps, excited more surprise than the other. Many even now "do not understand it ;" and every day I am asked, "How was it done?" Well, it does seem rather difficult to fish for a jewel at the bottom of the ocean, two and a half miles deep. But it is not so very difficult, when you know how. You may be sure we did not go a-fishing at random, nor was our success mere "luck." It was the triumph of the highest 2nautical and engineering skill. We had four ships, and on board of them some of the best seamen in England,―men who knew the ocean as a hunter knows every 3trail in the forest. There was Captain Moriarty, who was in the Agamemnon in 1857-8. He was in the Great Eastern last year, and saw the cable when it broke; and he and Captain Anderson at once took their observations so exact, that they could go right to the spot. After finding it, they marked the line of the cable by a row of buoys; for fogs would come down and shut out sun and stars, so that no man could take an observation. These buoys were anchored a few miles apart. They were numbered, and each had a flagstaff on it, so that it could be seen by day, and by a lantern at night. Thus, having taken our bearings, we stood off three or four miles, so as to come broadside on, and then, casting over the grapnel, drifted slowly down upon it, dragging the bottom of the ocean as we went. At first it was a little awkward to fish in such deep water; but our men got used to it, and soon could cast a grapnel almost as straight as an old whaler throws a harpoon. Our fishing line was of formidable size. It was made of rope, twisted with wires of steel, so as to bear a strain of thirty tons. It took about two hours for the grapnel to reach bottom; but we could tell when it struck. I often went to the bow, and sat on the rope, and could feel by the quiver that the grapnel was dragging on the bottom two miles under us. But it was a very slow business. We had storms and calms, and fogs and squalls. Still we worked on, day after day. Once, on the 17th of August, we got the cable up, and had it in full sight for five minutes,-a long, slimy monster, fresh from the ooze of the ocean's bed; but our men began to cheer so wildly, that it seemed to be frightened, and suddenly broke away, and went down into the sea. This accident kept us at work two weeks longer; but finally, on the last night of August, we caught it. We had cast the grapnel thirty times. It was a little before midnight on Friday that we hooked the cable; and it was a little after midnight, Sunday morning, when we got it on board. What was the anxiety of those twenty-six hours! The strain on every man's life was like the strain on the cable itself. When, finally, it appeared, it was midnight; the lights of the ship, and in the boats around our bows, as they flashed in the faces of the men, showed them eagerly watching for the cable to appear on the water. At length it was brought to the surface. All who were allowed to approach crowded forward to see it. Yet not a word was spoken: only the voices of the officers in command were heard giving orders. All felt as if life and death hung on the issue. It was only when it was brought over the bow, and on to the deck, that men dared to breathe. Even then they hardly believed their eyes. Some crept toward it to feel it, to be sure it was there. Then we carried it along to the electricians' room, to see if our long-sought treasure was alive or dead. A few minutes of suspense, and a flash told of the lightning current again set free. Then did the feeling long pent up burst forth. Some turned away their heads and wept; others broke into cheers; and the cry ran from man to man, and was heard down in the engine-rooms, deck below deck, and from the boats on the water, and the other ships, while rockets lighted up the darkness of the sea. Then, with thankful hearts, we turned our faces again to the west. But soon the wind arose, and for thirty-six hours we were exposed to all the dangers of a storm on the Atlantic. Yet, in the very height and fury of the gale, as I sat in the electricians' room, a flash of light came up from the deep, which, having crossed to Ireland, came back to me in mid-ocean, telling that those so dear to me, whom I had left on the banks of the Hudson, were well, and following us with their wishes and their prayers. This was like a whisper of God from the sea, bidding me keep heart and hope. The Great Eastern bore herself proudly through the storm, as if she knew that the vital chord, which was to join two hemispheres, hung at her stern; and so, on Saturday, the 7th of September, we brought our second cable safely to the shore. Even the sailors caught the enthusiasm of the enterprise, and were eager to share in the honour of the achievement. Brave, stalwart men they were at home on the ocean and in the storm-of that sort that have carried the flag of England around the globe. I see them now as they dragged the shore-end up the beach at Heart's Content, hugging it in their brawny arms as if it were a shipwrecked child, whom they had rescued from the dangers of the sea. God bless them all! Such, in brief, is the story of the telegraph. It has been a long, hard struggle,-nearly thirteen years of anxious watching and ceaseless toil. Often my heart has been ready to sink. Many times, when wandering in the forests of Newfoundland, in the pelting rain, or on the deck of ships, on dark, stormy nights,-alone, far from home,-I have almost accused myself of madness and folly to sacrifice the peace of my family, and all the hopes of life, for what might prove, after all, but a dream. I have seen my companions one and another falling by my side, and feared that I, too, might not live to see the end. And yet one hope has led me on, and I have prayed that I might live till this work was accomplished. That prayer is answered; and now beyond all acknowledgments to men is the feeling of gratitude to Almighty God. CYRUS W. FIELD. 1 achievement, a great deed. nautical, belonging to seamen or to navigation. 3 trail, track; marks left on the ground by foo'steps; scent left on the ground by a wild animal. 'grapnel, grappling iron; an instrument with hooks or claws used for seizing ships or other objects. 5 stalwart, Lold, strong, stout-hearted. "Heart's Content, a harbour in Trinity Bay. Newfoundland. THE AUTHOR OF "PARADISE LOST." math-e-ma-ti'-cian en-ter-tain'-ment PART I. thor'-ough-ly mag-nan-im'-i-ty cour-a'-ge-ous In-qui-si'-tion IN the year 1638, two men met in the library of a little villa of Arcetin, one mile south of Florence. The scene was a picture for a painter. One sat motionless in a tall 'Gothic chair. His commanding figure was bent, as if crushed with the weight of life. Age had turned his hair and beard white, and the dark, deep-set eyes were closed, but the face was luminous with thought. Beside him stood a young man, whose beauty had been the marvel and the jest of his associates. An erect and finely proportioned body, princely in its carriage; a face with finely chiselled features and delicate complexion ; eyes a clear dark gray, and light-brown waving hair, long and flowing, after the fashion of the times. The aged man was Galileo, philosopher and 2mathematician, now in his seventy-fourth year, after all his toils and triumphs. and distinguished honours, prisoner of the Inquisition, confined in his own house, and blind! The other was a young stranger from England, John Milton, then in his twenty-ninth year. Milton, seated beside Galileo, puts questions, and listens with eager and intense interest to the discourse of the brilliant philosopher. And then they go forth into the garden, the broken man leaning upon the strong young arm; and, as they walk along, Galileo talks of his vines which he used to prune, of the two pigeons in the dovecote, of the vases holding the orange-trees, which were shattered by a storm while he was in Rome, whither he had gone by the order of the Inquisition. And he |