objects to insignificance.

"It was a light like that," exclaimed Abraham, "which shone in my eyes
through the darkness of the billows."

"It was on that," whispered Issachar, "that I called for help, my son,
when thou wert dying. From the hour I dipped it from the water my
heart has been warmer to the world and man. Is there, in all the hoary
traditions of our church, a reason why we should not beseech its
illumination again before it returns to the ocean with ourselves? Do
thou decide, who art full of wisdom; for I am ignorant in thy eyes,
and heavy with sins."

The cross, resplendent, seemed to wear a visible countenance. Wrapped
in Issachar's arms, like a babe to its mother, young Abraham extended
his hands to the effigy, and in its beams a wondrous consolation of
love and rest returned to those poor companions, reconciling them to
their helplessness in the presence of the Almighty awe.

"Child of God!" exclaimed the Jew, "thou beauty of the Gentiles, I
gave thee life but for a span, and thou seemest to bring to me the
life immortal."

The morning broke on the shore frosty and clear after the subsided
storm, and the earliest wreckers, seeking in the drift for Christmas
gifts to give their children, found well-remembered parts of the Eli
and portions of the tenement of its proprietor. A wave rolled higher
than the rest and cast upon the shore two bodies--a young man of the
comely face and symmetry of a woman, without a sign of pain in his
features and dark, oriental eyes, and an old man, venerable as an