res:
So small is every atom, amid yon countless band,
That hosts of them were needful to make a grain of sand;
They form the lowest step of that brilliant ladder trod,
Ascending from the light mote to the all-present God.

And yet a separate being exists in every part,
Within each airy globule there dwells a beating heart;
One world, perchance, presiding o'er worlds unnumbered, free,
To which the lightning's passage is an eternity;
Yet, doubtless, each enjoying, within their drop of space,
Days, nights, in all fulfilling their order and their place;
And while in wondrous ecstasy, man's throbbing eye looks on,
A thousand worlds are ended, their destinies are won!

O God! how vast the sources which feed such life and death,
How piercing is that vision which marks out every breath;
How infinite that Spirit which cherishes each grade;
And more than all, how boundless that love, free, unrepaid,
Which nurtures into being each particle that floats,
Descending from far sun-worlds to microscopic motes;
O God! so grand and awful in yonder little ray,
What thought dare seek to fathom the blaze of thy full day?

MARY E. LEE.

THE ISLETS OF THE GULF;

OR, ROSE BUDD.

Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool
I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but
Travelers must be content. AS YOU LIKE IT.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "PILOT," "RED ROVER," "TWO ADMIRALS,"
"WING-AND-WING," "MILES WALLINGFORD," ETC.

[Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J.
Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the
United States, for the Northern District of New York.]

(_Continued from page_ 293.)

PART XV.

The screams of rage, the groan, the strife,
The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry,
The panting, throttled prayer for life,
The dying's heaving sigh,
The murderer's curse, the dead man's fixed, still glare,
And fear's and death's cold sweat--they all are there.
MATTHEW LEE.

It was high time that Capt. Spike should arrive when his foot touched
the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient and anxious to
the last degree, and the power of Senor Montefalderon to control them
was lessening each instant. They heard the rending of timber, and the
grinding on the coral,