of the lute, as it falls with tender cadence on the ear, entrancing the very soul with its celestial melody.

There are but few persons who have an adequate and just appreciation of the several uses and intents of the feathered race; consequently the study of ornithology is less attended to than its interest and importance seem to demand. The rapacious species of birds are evidently intended for preserving the purity of the atmosphere by devouring all such unburied carrion whose natural decomposition would create pestilence and disease. The water-birds generally cooperate in this employment, by destroying different species of reptiles, which would otherwise increase too rapidly, rendering the waters stagnant with their corruption, and filling the air with poisonous and putrid vapors. The smaller land-birds seem intended for destroying such insects as prey upon food useful for man; and it is probably a fact, that the harvests of the farmer would be more productive and less subject to disease, if the numerous little birds which frequent their grounds were suffered to pursue their several labors without molestation. They are also useful in disseminating seeds more universally over the surface of the earth. Beside, it is a correctly-ascertained fact, that of all the innumerable species of birds which exist, not one is poisonous; and being the purifiers of the atmosphere, the disseminators of plants and herbs, and the destroyers of certain insects which are pernicious after the object of their creation has been fulfilled, they may justly be included among the guardians of the human race.'

As nations increase in age they generally become more refined, and are disposed to render greater deference to the works and wonders of nature. And who, in reviewing the history of the world, and observing the never-failing progress of human events, can deny that the prospects of the present age present a subject for human congratulation? Wars are rare, and far less sanguinary than formerly; the arts and sciences are flourishing under the benign influence of public encouragement, and the study of nature itself is more attended to and patronized.

To the student of nature, the strongest and most encouraging inducements are offered. Unlike other pursuits, it never satiates, but leads us gradually onward, enlarging our vision at every step, until at last an interminable prospect of beauty is laid out before us. Every rock and tree and flower-every quadruped, bird, fish, or insect and indeed every thing in which the genius of nature is manifest, has powerful claims upon our attention, and affords a subject for delightful meditation. Then it matters not whether we wander amid the stupendous solitudes of the mountain, or loiter amid the perfumed groves and luxuriant meadows of the valley; whether we bask in the sunshine of perpetual summer, or dwell amid the ice and snows of the frigid zone; for we have still a pursuit which is substantial as well as noble, and from which we can, under all circumstances, derive the most unlimited comfort and satisfaction. Indeed, the study of nature is a blissful labyrinth, in whose enchanted recesses we can seclude ourselves in seasons of

adversity and trouble; where the remembrance of past pleasures will cast a halo around a desponding moment, and turn our thoughts 'from Nature up to Nature's Gov.

THE MYSTERY O F LIFE AND DEATH.

BY MISS JOSFPRINE BLOODGOOD.

OH! who can scan life's mystery,
Or find the golden clue

Which safe shall guide us while we live,
And bring us rightly through?

Oh! would that one passed hence away
Could tell us what he knew!

Alas! where shall we seek the truth?
How know what must await
The traveller to another land,
Who cannot see his fate

Until the veil itself be raised,

And knowledge comes too late!

Oh! could but one return to us

From that far land of dreams,

How blessed the truths revealed to earth,
Enlighten'd by such beams!

And knowing all that follows death,
How safe to pass its streams!

But there is ONE who tasted death,
To whom we all must cling,
In that dark hour when on our brows
The last cold damps shall spring;
O'er whom the grave no vict'ry found,
Nor death could bring a sting.

To those who trust not to the blood

So freely for us shed,

For strength and light, and would evoke

A spirit homeward fled,

JESUS has said that such an one

'Would not believe the dead.'

But He will guide the suffering one,
And calm the troubled breast,
For He hath said to those who mourn

And have their sins confessed,

'Come unto me, ye weary ones,
And I will give you rest!'

RUNNING A BLOCKADE IN THE LAST WAR.

BY NED BUNTLINE.

Be it known unto the many who with commendable good taste peruse the monthly records of 'OLD KNICK.,' that the writer of this yarn has an uncle in the United States' navy, one Captain JACK BOWLINE, who has spent nearly fifty years of his life upon the ocean; a warm-hearted, hard-faced, jolly old fellow, whose head is as full of historical yarns of the past as his body is of shot-marks and scars of battle. Often has he cheered my sad spirit with his lively tales, and winged many an hour with his yarns of adventures which occurred during the last war with England, in which he commanded the privateer-schooner Hope,' a beautiful clipper of about one hundred and fifty tons, and two thirty-two pounder pivot-guns. One of these yarns I here commit to paper, in as nearly as possible his own language:

'We were lying in New-York harbor, just betwixt Governor's Island and the Battery, when the fleet that chased the old Constitution so hard was blockading the channels at both ends of Long Island, keeping such a sharp look-out along shore with their frigates and tenders that not a craft dare stir out of her anchorage. This made me as cross as an English man-o'-war's-man on short rations; for I was lying in port, feeding a crew, keeping my craft on expenses, and all that; and it did n't suit my free-born nature to be cooped up like a stray pig in a strange pen, when I knew that money was to be made on blue water, if I could only reach it. So one day I mustered the crew aft, and spun them off a bit of a speech; told 'em that it was all humbug for us to lie there doing nothing, and asked 'em if they would stand by me to the last if I would try and run the blockade; telling 'em at the same time that I intended to let the craft sink before she should be captured; that the starsand-stripes should never come down from the schooner's truck while she floated above water.

The crew gave me three cheers, and that was all the answer that I wanted; so I gave orders to re-stow the hold, clean up the arms, and get every thing ready for sea. I intended to take the first nor'west wind and dark night, and try the run.

'I did n't have long to wait before the night and nor'-wester came. It was indeed a fine night for my work. The wind came fitfully off the land in squalls; the heavy black clouds that tumbled along between the stars and the earth made every thing as dark as the middle of a tar-bucket, and the rain came down as if the caulking of the sky had all fell out.

Soon after the darkness had got fairly settled, I called all hands and reefed our sails down snug, then roused up the anchor and got

under way. I set the main-sail, close-reefed fore-top-sail and jib, and with the wind on my starboard quarter, stood down the bay, steering by compass and soundings.

'It was uncommonly dark, and once in a while the squalls would sweep down the bay, bellying out our scant sails, and bending the creaking spars over the bows, while the craft quivered like a dry leaf in the autumnal blast.

We showed no light, and kept as quiet as a mouse when the cat is in its vicinity, as we neared Sandy Hook, for we knew that the tenders of the fleet would lay close in under the land, so as to make a lee, as also to keep a look-out for coasters, or the like of us, who might take the advantage of the weather, and try to give them the slip.

We kept on very well till we were clear of the point of the Hook, and were stretching out over the middle-ground in a little under three-fathom soundings, when I, who was standing for'ard by the heel of the bowsprit, with a night-glass in my hand, trying to send my eye ahead into the darkness, suddenly caught a glimpse of a dark object, close aboard and directly ahead of us. I had scarcely sung out: Hard-a-port your helm!' to the steersman, when luffing up in the wind a little, we passed close alongside of a large schooner, which was lying-to on the off-shore tack, with her close-reefed foresail set. As we swept past her, I saw at once that she was a man o' war, and at the same time her officer of the deck hailed us:

Schooner ahoy! Who are you? Heave to, or I'll fire into you!' 'I was so completely thrown aback by this sudden meeting, that I forgot to answer him, and on we swiftly swept in the darkness, without even giving him a light to show where we were. But he was pretty good at guessing, for within four or five minutes a shot came whizzing along, not more than forty or fifty fathoms to leeward of us, and then we could see the lights glancing about her decks, as all hands were called, and we knew that he was making sail in chase.

66

Light ho!' sung out a man from aloft, and then in an instant added: Lights ahead, and on both bows, Sir!'

Then before the words were out of the topman's mouth, my first lieutenant sung out from the quarter deck, 'Lights on the weather quarter and beam, Captain Bowline!'

'I clambered aloft, and took a look with my glass, and saw that we were completely hemmed in. A circle of lights surrounded us, all of which I knew came from the enemy's shipping, and to crown the whole, and make a bad fix worse, the rascal whom I had passed but a moment before, commenced throwing up signal-rockets to show where our schooner was.

'As my glass swept around that circle of lights, I thought that I'd got myself in a bad scrape, and wished from the lowermost locker of my heart that my little craft was back at her old anchorage, for the prospect of hard knocks and no prize-money was not particularly brilliant just at that moment. But I determined to get clear if I could; and hurrying down to the deck, made the crew set the to'

gallant sail and square-sail. Then I had a light run up at each masthead, as the schooner astern of me had already done, so as to deceive the ships ahead of me, which lay in such a position that I must pass close by them. The fellow astern now knew me by my bearings, and he soon showed, by the change in his bearings and the motion of his lights, as they swung to and fro from his bending spars, that he was following in my wake under a press of sail. He kept continually sending up rockets and blue-lights, and I imitated as nearly as possible each signal that he made, for I knew that if the heavy ships outside of me once smelt the rat, and found out who I was, a single broadside would be dose enough for my poor little schooner. 'Apparently exasperated at our good imitations, the craft astern yawed from her course and fired a couple of shots at us, but as we paid no attention to her harmless shots, and she only lost ground by firing, she stopped it and pressed on in chase. We too cracked on every thread of canvass which our craft would bear, knowing that every thing depended on passing the ships outside without receiving a fire from them.

'Once more I took my glass and went forward to pick the best spot to pass their line. Just ahead of us were two lights pretty close together, which I thought, from the heights at which they hung, might be suspended from the gaffs of frigates or corvettes, and I made up my mind to run boldly under the stern of the rearmost of them, and try to pass myself off as one of their tenders, knowing that nothing but a stratagem could save me. So, still showing similar signals to those of the schooner astern, I held my course. In a few minutes we neared the sternmost ship, and then I saw by her lighted ports that she was a three-decker line o' battle ship. I reckon I was a leetle skeered, just then, but I did n't tell my men so, and they seemed to be as cool as white bears on an iceberg.

As we came within hail of the seventy-four, a gruff English voice shouted through a trumpet:

Schooner ahoy! Is that the Nereide?'

Thank GOD, for that hint!' thought I, as I answered: "Ay, ay, Sir!'

What's in the wind?' he again hailed. Your signal-officer must be drunk; we can't understand you. Explain yourself!' "I'm in chase of a bloody villain of a Yankee, that's trying to run the blockade!' shouted I.

"Oh! very well!' he answered; 'I hope you'll catch the sneaking scullion !5

So do, and keep him after he is caught; but hopes' are slippery things, as the old woman said of the eels which she was skinning, when she lost them overboard!'

Another moment and we were beyond his hail, and outside of the line of ships, bowling off at the rate of eleven or twelve knots. In a few minutes we doused every light, then altered our course four points to the southward, and were in a few moments hidden from the enemy by the darkness.

'I soon saw the pursuing schooner run under the stern of the