roost, there is a continual roar, caused by the restless shifting of the birds, and sounds of impatient struggle emitted by them, which can be heard distinctly for several miles. The numbers collected are incalculably immense, since the space covered sometimes extends for over a mile in length, with a breadth determined by the character of the ground.

This is a most astonishing scene. When approached in the early part of the night on horseback, the hubbub is strangely discordant, and overwhelmingly deafening. They will permit themselves to be killed in great numbers with sticks, or any convenient weapon, without the necessity of using guns. They, however, when frequently disturbed in the first of the season, will easily change their roosting-place, but when the heavy snows have fallen, by melting which by the heat of their bodies, and by trampling it down, they have formed a sort of sheltered yard, the outside walls of which defend them against the winds, they are not easily driven away by any degree of persecution. Indeed, at this time, they be come so emaciated as to afford but little inducement to any human persecutors, by whom they are seldom troubled, indeed, on account of the remoteness of these locations; from foxes, wolves, hawks, and owls, &c., their natural enemies, they have, of course, to expect no mercy at any time.

The noise of their restless cluckings, flutterings and shiftings, begins to subside a few hours after dark. The birds have now arranged themselves for the night, nestled as close as they can be wedged-every bird with his breast turned to the quarter in which the wind may be prevailing. This scene is one of the most curious that can be imagined, especially when they have the moonlight on the snow to contrast with their dark backs. At this time, they may be killed by cart-loads, as only those in the immediate neighborhood of the aggressor are disturbed, apparently. They rise to the height of a few feet, with a stupefied and aimless fluttering, and plunge into the snow, within a short distance, where they are easily taken by the hand. In these helpless conditions, such immense.

numbers are destroyed that the family would be in danger of rapid extermination, but that the fecundity of the survi vors nearly keeps pace with the many fatalities to which they are liable.

These birds are distributed over an immense northern territory, and though they are, everywhere in the more sheltered regions, found to exhibit the propensity to collect in numbers greater or smaller during the extreme cold weather in low spots where they will have some shelter from the accidental peculiarities of the locality, yet nowhere else except upon just these wide plains are they to be found in such astonishing congregations as we have here described. The universal habit of all this family of Gallinaciæ is rather to run and roost in little squads or flocks. Whence this difference in the habits of the same bird. Who knows? whence the difference? This is the question!

Ah,

Now your metaphysical philosophers are as thick as blackbirds in cherry-time among us-and quite as fussy. Every village pot-house has a genius in ragged breeches and with a long score of "chalks" against him, who will prove to you that Christianity is a delusion, and the doctrine of immortality all nonsense, by such imposing logic as that "you can neither see a soul, hear a soul, taste a soul, smell a soul, nor-" an astounding climax which we would think of doubting to be true in his case- -"feel a soul!" But, let them alone. It is all right. This is an age of progression and discovery.

"How many a vulgar Cato has compelled

His energies, no longer tameless then,

To mould a pin or fabricate a nail!

How many a Newton, to whose passive ken," &c.

Let them alone, we say. There is no telling what these "vulgar" Catos and Newtons may not accomplish. The chronicles of olden times are filled with wondrous tales, showing how they, once in awhile, shake off the crust, and

step forth suddenly before the world's eye, cap-a-pie, in shining armor, becoming men of renown in the fight of faith, or the weary marches of science. We have a strong inclination to set up for one of these vulgar Newtons ourselves, with the permission of the benevolent reader, as we are about to be guilty of an audacious speculation-and if we were not perhaps as much in joke as in earnest, we might be glad to deprecate responsibility, on the plea of "unsophisticated genius," &c.; but though one sense of "unsophisticated" may suit us well enough, yet we hardly dare to claim shelter under any other sense of a name so sacred in the mythos of human hope.

It may be only one of those dreams which, like the poet's ideal, haunts men from and in boyhood. We were then, as is usual, much fonder of the great wide pages, shadowy, waving, glittering and green, of nature's writing, than all the black-letter tomes that ever wearied eye of scholar. And while a scape-grace and hopeless truant, we paddled, bare-foot, through the pebbly brook, tore our juvenile trousers climbing for young squirrels, or winning a freckled necklace of birds' eggs for our blue-eyed sweetheart. We had a faint conception that the language we read there should be translated! Not that which we read in the blue eyes, specially, do we mean; but on the general page of the living revela tion; for as we said our incorrigible visuals would not even then permit us to see that Reason and Instinct were altogether unlike.

We took in our hands a definition of Reason, accepted by the sages, and went out among these sentient, breathing forms of life, condemned by them to the blind guidance and fatality of Instinct, that we might compare the theory of one with the reality of the other.

The song-bird twittered at us; the wild deer turned to stare; the squirrel sputtered from his nut-crammed jaws, and the insects buzzed curiously around us-for the story got out that there was "a chiel amang 'em takin' notes," and they did not understand but that we meant them some imperti

nence; but they soon found out that we were harmless, at least, and grew reconciled.

Many a calm hour we spent among the cool, dim aisles of the mighty forests, still as the dark trunks around us, watching now the Baltimore oriole with coy taste, select a twig to hang her cradle from, and when her motherly care was satisfied that a particular one hung clear beyond the reach of the dreaded snake, or mischievous climbers, one and all,— that there was a tuft of leaves above it, which would precisely shield it from the noontide sun-then commences her airy fabric.

How ingeniously she avails herself of the forks and notches to twist the first important thread around! How housewife-like she plaits and weaves the grassy fibres! The unmanageable horse-hair, too, is used; how soberly she plies her long, sharp bill and delicate feet! Now she drops that thread as too rotten to be trusted, and reprovingly sends off her careless, chattering mate to get another. He is proud of his fine coat, and dissipates his time in carolling; but in her prudent creed, sweet songs won't build a home for the little folk, and so she very properly makes the idle fellow work.

At last, after a deal of sewing, webbing, roofing,—and scolding, too, the while the house is finished, thatch, door, and all. The softest velvet from the mullen stalk must line it now; and then elate upon the topmost bough, she silently upturns her bill toward heaven, while her mate pours forth their joy for labors done, in thrilling gushes!

In those old times, sitting upon a gnarled root, I would bend for hours over some thronged city of the ants. Why, how is this? Here from the great entrance-roads branch off on every side. How clean, and smooth, and regular, they are! See, yonder is a dead limb fallen across the course. Amazement! A tunnel! A tunnel! they have sunk it beneath the obstruction too heavy for the power of their mechanics! Follow the winding track. See, that thick turf of grass! It

is easier to go round it than to cut through it. And there, behold a mountain pebble in the way; see how the road is made to sweep in a free curve round the base.

Lay now that small stone across the narrow way! See! The common herd-the stream of dull-eyed laborers—how they are confounded by the interruption. They fall back upon each other-all is confusion. The precious burdens they bore with so much care, are dropped-to and fro they run -all is consternation and alarm.

But look! That portly, lazy fellow, who seemed to have nothing to do but to strut back and forth in the sun, now wakes up. He rushes to the scene. All give way from his path, and close crowdingly in his wake. He is one evidently having authority. He climbs upon the stone; runs over it rapidly; measures it with his antennæ; and down he glides among the still, expectant crowd. Here, there, yonder, everywhere, in a moment-he selects among the multitude those best fitted for the purpose with which his sagacious head is full-touches them with the antennæ of command, and each one, obedient, hurries to the stone.

No more confusion-every one is in his place awaiting orders, not daring to begin yet. He is back now to the stone. The signal is given! Each of the selected workers lay hold of it. See, how they tug and strain!

What? Not strength enough. An additional number are chosen. They seize hold. Now they move it! My lord, the overseer does not put a hand to it himself, or a pincer either, -but, see how he plays round, keeps the crowd out of the way, and directs the whole.

It is done! The stone is rolled out from the highway, and we will not put another one on it; it is cruel thus to use our giant's strength like a giant, and we are satisfied. The little laborers resume their burdens; away they go streaming on to the citadel; while the great man relapses suddenly into the old air of sluggish dignity.

But follow that road; it leads an hundred yards-clearly