triumphed over all its foes. Grateful to Parliament, whenever
that august assemblage befriended it, and standing manfully at bay
whenever its liberties had been threatened in either House, it had
overcome all resistance, and Lords and Commons recognized in it a safe
and honorable tribunal, before which their acts would be impartially
judged, as well as the truest and most legitimate medium between the
rulers and the ruled. The greatest names of the day in politics and in
literature were proud to range themselves under its banners and to aid
in the glorious work of extending its influence, developing its
usefulness, and elevating its tone and character; and the people at
large had learned to look upon it as the firm friend of national
enlightenment, and the most trustworthy guardian of their constitutional
liberties.

LIFE ON A BLOCKADER.

Life in the camp and in the field has formed the staple of much writing
since the commencement of the war, and all have now at least a tolerable
idea of the soldier's ordinary life. Our sailors are a different matter,
and while we study the daily papers for Army news, we are apt to ignore
the Navy, and forget that, though brave men are in the field, a smaller
proportion of equally brave serve on a more uncertain field, where not
one alone but many forms of death are before them. Shot and shell it is
the soldier's duty to face, and the sailor's as well, but one ball at
sea may do the work of a thousand on shore: it may pass through a
vessel, touching not a soul on board, and yet from the flying splinters
left in its path cause the death of a score; its way may lie through the
boilers, still touching no one, and yet the most horrible of all deaths,
that by scalding steam, result. It may chance to hit the powder
magazine, and sudden annihilation be the fate of both ship and crew; or,
passing below the water line, bring a no less certain, though slower
fate--that which met the brave little Keokuk at Charleston, not many
months since.

Life at sea is a compound of dangers, and though the old tar may
congratulate himself in a stormy night on being safe in the maintop, and
sing after Dibdin--

'Lord help us! how I pitys
All unhappy folks on shore'--

to the majority of our present Navy, made up as it is, in part at least,
of volunteer officers and men, it is essentially distasteful, and
endured only as the soldier endures trench duty or forced marches--as a
means of soon