der of an equal number of guns used by the other party-this I was told by my above informant.

To return to my subject. On our safe and happy arrival at St. Andero we found three British ships of war there, a frigate and two sloops. We were hauled alongside the former, and our two masts were hoisted out and repaired; this was done in two days, and in two or three days more we left the place, with an English gentleman on board, to act as vice consul at St. Sebastian. By the way, I must remark, that a short time previous to our departure we heard of the storming and consequent capture of that fortress, but it made no change in our destination, as having a mail containing dispatches for Lord Wellington, it was necessary to go on, as his Lordship's encampment was but a few leagues inland from that port.

The third day after being at sea, I had an opportunity of witnessing, for the first time, preparation for battle. Early in the morning, as day broke, being not far from land, and close to a strongly fortified sea port town, still in possession of the French, called St. Antonio-we observed a man-of-war brig standing towards us, with all sail set. At first we supposed her to be English, and made the usual signal, (" demand your number?" which number would point out her name in the proper book for that purpose.) This she did not answer, and we saw that she was preparing for battle, by observing her guns run out of the ports. We then made the private signal-a symbol and document always kept exclusively in the Captain's possession of every ship, and understood and referred to solely by him-this was not answered either. Impatience and anxiety now marked every countenance-" what! not answer one of both; it was suspicious!" five minutes passed, ample time for doing it if she were a friend ;-ten minutes elapsed, no answer; it was certain now she must be a foe, and the circumstance of her being close to an enemy's port strengthened the belief: no time was to be lost; it was a beautiful fine sunday morning, and a beautiful royal breeze, (royal sail breeze I mean,) and this circumstance drew from many of the jacks the remark in the full confidence that " now we were in for it as sure as a gun," that we couldn't go to heaven on a bet ter day; ""beat to quarters and prepare for battle, Mr. Speed," said the commander to the master. Quick as lightening the order was taken up by this last officer, and before the first tap of the drum had ceased its echo, every man was in motion. Now was seen with what an alacrity a British sailor prepares himself for combat: jackets were thrown off and flung aside, shirt sleeves were tucked up to offer no impediment to the free motion of his limbs, and the black neck-cloth was removed to encircle the head. The guns were cleared and run out, cutlasses were buckled to the waist, tomahawks and boarding pikes were placed ready, and the marines were prepared with loaded muskets. "Mr. Speed," said the commander, “if we board, let the marines cover the boarders with fixed bayonets" "aye, aye, Sir," was the answer, " you hear that sergeant?" " yes, Sir." The guns were ordered to be double loaded, for the first broadside, with round and grape shot, and as they were carronades they were screwed to the point blank range, with

neither elevation nor depression, as it was our intention not to fire a shot until we were close alongside, and then give the whole contents into her hull. This is peculiarly English fashion, whereas Monsieur always tried to wing his foe, not calculating on capturing him, but to cripple him for the pursuit. We were drawing near; five minutes more would decide the doubt, friend or foe, when up went the answer to the private signal on board her, and we exchanged numbers; she proved to be a British man-of-war brig, stationed on that coast, and I think then employed in blockading the above port, and watching a French corvette-of-war then anchored in it. The fact was-we mutually fell into the same mistake relative to our suspicions. She supposed us to be either an American or Frenchman, and accounted for not answering our signals sooner, by not clearly distinguishing them. Thus ended our doubts and dispersed our warlike array; and here I will end this chapter.

B.

WOMAN'S GRIEF.

BY R. CALDER CAMPBELL.

And when he died

He whom her passionate heart had loved so long,
Grief fell upon her, like the mist of night

That wraps the lone lake in its sombre shroud!
That silent grief,-the atrophy of spirit,
That sits upon the brows, an incubus,

Brewing dread phantoms in the dreamy brain,
And visions bathed in blood.

There were no shrieks

Parting the tremulous air,—no maniac screams
Severing the roses of her ruby lips,-

Like lightning flashing thro' vermilion clouds ;-
But there was darkness of the mind,-decay
Of sentient vision for external things;—
And, in the dim recesses of her breast,
Mem'ry sat brooding, (like some bird obscene,
That cowering rests upon the loathsome egg,
Whose shell confines the deadly cockatrice,)
Over one only thought, that, like a lamp,
Flung in the midnight on the weltering sea,
Shows but the dark deep waters round!-the thought
That he was dead, who loved her long and well!
And in the spelled and fearful quietude
Of sorrow, that could find no vent in speech,
Her spirit maddened,-withering 'neath the bane,
The venom, drifting from those unwept tears
That fly the eye to curdle round the heart!

THE REVEILLE.

The Prince was ambitious of military renown, and sought, on many occasions, to awaken the slumbering spirit of chivalry among his nobles: nor was he altogether unsuccessful. Rapin's History of England.

1.

Quick at the monarch's high command,
With flashing eye and eager hand,
The warrior minstrel sprang;
No love-sick strains his verse inspire,
But heroes' bosoms catch the fire
Of warlike zeal and martial ire,
That burst from his emphatic lyre,
As the loud Reveille rang.

II.

Oh for the battle shout again,
Oh for the trumpet's bray!

Oh for the rush of mail-clad men,

And the war-steed's thrilling neigh!

Our swords are rusting on our walls,

Our battles are untold,

And the bravest hearts in England's halls

Must soon lie stiff and cold!

III.

Bring spear and lance, though dark the stain
Of long inglorious ease!

And give your banners once again
Triumphant to the breeze!

And England's chivalry advance,

But once again as bold

As when they died for her in France,

Whose brave hearts beat not cold!

IV.

But the ancient spirit is gone by,
And the love of dazzling eyes

That cheer'd to death or victory,
No more is hero's prize!

And Hymen's chain no more of flowers,
But of pearl-strings and of gold-
If a true heart beat in England's bowers,
It must soon lie dead and cold!

ROBERT MONTGOMERY.

--

This gentleman, within the last two or three years, has acquired considerable notoriety, as a poet, and many persons, superficially acquainted with the lighter literature of the times, have mistaken him for his estimable namesake, the author of the "Wanderer of Switzerland." This error has been rendered more plausible and permanent, from the circumstance of both poets being alike distinguished for their selection of sacred subjects, and thus many religious readers receive every thing that is announced from the pen of Robert Montgomery, as the veritable production of the bard of Sheffield. It is as well, therefore, to mention, that though their surnames, and the subjects of their poetry, are similar, their christian names, and their styles of writing are very different. The "bard of Sheffield" is Mr. James Montgomery, and is not even a relation of his rival Robert. Robert is a young man of about five and twenty, and James, we believe, is in his sixtieth year. The first is modest, chaste, and correct in all his writings, while the second is too often bold, inflated, and inaccurate. For further distinction it may, perhaps, be advisable to enumerate the principal productions of each. James Montgomery is the author of "The Wanderer of Switzerland"-" The West Indies". "The World before the Flood "66 Greenland Songs of Zion". "The Pelican Island "-and "Prison Amusements." &c. &c. Robert Montgomery, has written a little volume of poetry called "Poems by a Youth". "The Age Reviewed, a Satire "The Puffiad," " also a Satire-" The Omnipresence of the Deity" "A Universal Prayer"—" Death"- "AVision of Heaven and Hell"—" Satan"-and "Oxford," &c. &c. Though the titles of their works do not, in all cases, indicate a reference to the Christian religion, the poems are either treated altogether in a religious way, or contain very frequent allusions to Gospel truths. Even Robert's two satires are devoted, in a great degree, to religious matters, and are remarkable for the stern spirit of invective exhibited against all men who have ventured to entertain or express theological opinions in any degree different from his own. Robert is a high churchman, and a Tory; James is a Moravian, and a Whig. The first is dogmatical and violent, the second humble and humane. We need not draw this, somewhat invidious parallel any further; but thus much, we think, we were called upon to say, in justice to the elder poet, whose works are distinguished by a spirit of true piety to God, and charity to man, a passionate love of liberty, peculiar tenderness and delicacy of sentiment, and elegance and purity of style. From the tone and manner of what we have already written, it will be rightly concluded, that we are no great admirers of the younger poet; at the same time, we do not wish it to be supposed that we have any disposition to treat him with injustice. Bearing in mind his youth and consequent inexperience, we are ready to admit, that his poems, though abounding with faults, are productions of considerable promise. Though they betray but too frequently an unfortunate tendency to bombast, and perplex the reader with