abandoning those which they had captured, and running to leeward: the Captain was lying a perfect wreck on board her two prizes; and many of the other vessels were so shattered in their masts and rigging, as to be wholly unmanageable. The Spanish admiral meantime, according to his official account, being altogether undecided in his own opinion respecting the state of the fleet, inquired of his captains whether it was proper to renew the action: nine of them answered explicitly, that it was not; others replied, that it was expedient to delay the business. The Pelayo and the Principe Conquistador were the only ships that were for fighting.

In this engagement, four vessels were taken, two of which carried one hundred and twelve guns each: one eighty-four, and one seventy-four. On board the British fleet the loss amounted to about three hundred, in killed and wounded; while the loss on board the Spanish ships that were taken, amounted to double

author of the work in which this letter
was first made public, protests against
those over-zealous friends, "who would
make the action rather appear as Nel
son's battle, than that of the illustrious
commander-in-chief, who derives from
it so deservedly his title. "No man,"
he says, "ever has less needed, or less
desired, to strip a single leaf from the
honoured wreath of any other hero, with
the vain hope of augmenting his own,
than the immortal Nelson: no man ever
more merited the whole of that which a
generous nation unanimously presented
to Sir J. Jervis, than the Earl St. Vin-
cent." Certainly Earl St. Vincent well
deserved the reward which he received;
but it is not detracting from his merit to
say, that Nelson is fully entitled to as
much fame from this action as the com-
mander-in-chief; not because the brunt
of the action fell upon him;
not because
he was engaged with all the four ships
which were taken, and took two of them,
it may almost be said, with his own hand;
but because the decisive movement, which

that number. As soon as the action was discon-enabled him to perform all this, and by tinued, Nelson went on board the admiral's ship. Sir John Jervis received him on the quarter-deck, took him in his arms, and said he could not sufficiently thank him. For this victory the commander-in-chief was rewarded with the title of Earl St. Vincent. In the official letter of Sir John Jervis, Nelson was not mentioned. It is said, that the admiral had seen an instance of the ill consequence of such selections, after Lord Howe's victory; and, therefore, would not name any individual, thinking it proper to speak to the public only in terms of general approbation. His private letter to the first lord of the admiralty was, with his consent, published, for the first time, in a Life of Nelson, by Mr. Harrison. Here it is said, that "Commodore Nelson, who was in the rear, on the starboard tack, took the lead on the larboard, and contributed very much to the fortune of the day." It is also said, that he boarded the two Spanish ships successively; but the fact, that Nelson wore without orders, and thus planned as well as accomplished the victory, is not explicitly stated. Perhaps it was thought proper to pass over this part of his conduct in silence, as a splendid fault; but such an example is not dangerous. The

which the action became a victory, was executed in neglect of orders, upon his own judgment, and at his peril. Earl St. Vincent deserved his earldom: but it is not to the honour of those by whom titles were distributed in those days, that Nelson never obtained the rank of earl for either of those victories which he lived to enjoy, though the one was the most complete and glorions in the annals of naval history, and the other the most important in its consequences of any which was achieved during the whole war. Nelson, who, before the action was known in England, had been advanced to the rank of rear-admiral, had the Order of the Bath given him. The sword of the Spanish rear-admiral, which Sir John Jervis insisted upon his keeping, he presented to the mayor and corporation of Norwich, saying, that he knew no place where it could give him or his family more pleasure to have it kept, than in the capital city of the county where he was born. The freedom of that city was voted him on this occasion. But of all the numerous congratulations which he received, none could have affected him with deeper delight than that which came from his venerable father. "I thank my God," said this excellent man," with

all the power of a grateful soul, for the mercies he has most graciously bestowed on me in preserving you. Not only my few acquaintance here, but the people in general, met me at every corner with such handsome words, that I was obliged to retire from the public eye. The height of glory to which your professional judgment, united with a proper degree of bravery, guarded by Providence, has raised you, few sons, my dear child, attain to, and fewer fathers live to see. Tears of joy have involuntarily trickled down my furrowed cheeks: who could stand the force of such general congratulation? The name and services of Nelson have sounded through this city of Bath-from the common ballad-singer to the public theatre." The good old man concluded by telling him, that the field of glory, in which he had so long been conspicuous, was still open, and by giving him his blessing.

THE BROKEN HEART;
OR, THE SERJEANT'S DAUGHTER.

YES, alas! it was true, too true-her heart broken and torn asunder by a multiplicity of misfortunes-that she looked, at the tender age of twenty-four, like the lily on which the meridian sun had been playing with all his power, unshaded by any friendly shrub or bough; and like the sensitive plant when touched by man, her deportment was cast down, and seemed inclined to fall on that earth soon to be her grave. Her once lovely features were deeply engraven with the registers of woe; her dim eye, once quick and brilliant as the midnight star, was now slow and languid in its movements; her eye-lids were most fallen, and hid from mortal vision those eyes, once the admiration of men and the envy of women. Her deep and unsonorous sighs would sicken the stoutest heart; her voice, once the melody of heaven, was feeble and weak, and her words the evening breeze alone could receive, and bore away on its silvery wings ere they met the ear; but those that were caught were soft as the sweet breathings of an infant. Her hair, jet black, which once played upon her lovely bosom in clusters, now hung loose upon her shoulders-not a curl to be seen.

All that remained of her beautiful form
was the symmetry of her foot and ancle,
her ivory teeth, her taper hands, and the
outline of an unexampled beauty. When
she did smile (which was seldom) it was
lovely beyond the power of expression.
Sometimes she sang; but her melan-
choly strains seemed to emanate from
seraphs from beneath the silvery brook,
and lingered upon the ear but an in-
stant, ascending to the throne above,
where the slightest vibration of the hu-
man heart, emanating from woe, reaches
in full and melodious sounds. Her walk
was slow and dejected; her hands
clasped in bitterest agony; and she gli-
ded through the green meadows like
some aerial being, or inhabitant of ano-
ther and a better world. It was on these
occasions, when she supposed she was
far from the gaze of men, from the prying
eye of curiosity, she gave full vent to her
melancholy by singing gloomy and heart-
sickening songs. Wherever she wan-
dered the feathered tribe hopped from
shrub to shrub, from bough to bough to
steal her notes away. She had an ac-
companiment in her little melodious
strain, for each dreary note was followed
by a tear or sigh. Often did she pick
the wild flowers, and place them in her
bosom; that bosom once happy and se-
rene, now lacerated and woe-ridden.
Her dress was deep black; and her
strange and lonely appearance was con-
strued into many a fearful tale to frighten
timid children to obedience. She was
called the fairy queen-the ghost of
Gertrude the spell queen. Wise would
it have been, had she been named a
living monument of the most unutterable
woe.

Gertrude, for that was her name, was
the only daughter of Serjeant Everard,
She was
of the
regiment of foot.
the constant boast at the mess, the pre-
vailing topic of morning gossips; and
her extreme beauty generally ran the
gauntlet through the ranks. She was
the theme of many a song. Many were
the offers tendered this lovely daughter
of Serjeant Everard ere she attained the
age of eighteen. All were refused with
that docile and winning manner which
she possessed in the highest degree. All
were disappointed; but it was done in
that easy and playful mood which dis-
appoints but does not offend.

When

will lay aside any unfavourable impres-
sions you may have formed of officers
in general. Many of them disgrace their
profession by wanton levity, revelling
amidst scenes of depravity, and boasting
their own infamy. I trust that early
piety, and sober habits, have implanted
in this bosom those principles of recti-
tude that will, at all times, preserve me
from crime. Will you permit me the
honour of speaking to you?”
"Sir, I

she attained her nineteenth year, it was agreed, by all who knew her, that she stood unrivalled as to beauty. She was limited in education it was true; but her talents were great, and her mind was well stored with morality. She had read much, and what she had read her excellent memory retained. One summer's evening, when the regiment to which her father belonged was exercising on the parade at Colchester, in the year 1797, she stood alone, watch-am but the offspring of a poor man. It ing them near the main-guard, when is true, he is a soldier, and he has been a young officer, of another regiment, a brave one too (here she wiped a tear seeing so much beauty, approached, and from her lovely eyes), and at this mothus addressed her: That's a fine ment is suffering for his loyalty. There corps, madam." "Yes," she replied, is, Sir, still a ball in his leg; and at "I think so. Indeed, it would be strange times it gives him severe pain. He is if I should say to the contrary, as my now an old man, and one year's service father is in it." "Indeed!" replied the more we shall be able to retire on a youth; "the colonel, perhaps, Miss." comfortable pension. But, Sir, on what "No, Su, not the colonel." "The do you require me to converse with major, perhaps." "No, Sir." "A cap- you? I am but a poor, half-educated tain, perhaps." "No, Sir, my father is girl." "So much the better," observed only a poor serjeant," and retired. The the young officer, "learning is not, at youth, overcome by so much loveliness, all times, the best moral teacher." "True, followed her at a distance, to her home; Sir, the heart is the great governor of and on enquiry found that what she said actions. If the human heart is in its was the truth From this moment, he, lawful place, the mind is actuated by then nineteen, found his heart so capti- it." "True, this saying shows you vated that he was resolved to see her have studied human actions." "I have again. For more than a month, how-read a good deal, and love watching ever, he waited; but never could see her. To write to her he was afraid; he as the son of a colonel; but the longer the period of her absence the dearer she grew to him, and he knew not what to do. One evening, passing through the churchyard, brooding over his misfortune at not being able to get a second glimpse of Gertrude, he came to a sudden turn, and to his great delight saw the dear object of his meditation, seated pensively upon a tomb, copying something from a tombstone. He slowly stole behind a marble slab, the better to observe her lovely countenance. When she had copied what she wished she rose, and observing the youth, turned down another path from where he was, once or twice looking behind to see if he was folowing. He was a remarkably fine young man, and equally honourable. He soon overtook her, and said, "Pardon me, Miss Everard, for thus intruding on you. I am actuated by the most honourable intentions in addressing you, and therefore hope you

nature; but fear, Sir, I have, from li-
mited observations, formed erroneous
fancies." "Not in this instance-I
cannot admit." Thus talking, they had
turned down the lane leading to the
barracks, and who should they meet
but the officer's father and mother?
The old colonel was a merry old fellow.
The instant he observed them he placed
himself in front, extending his legs as
far from each other as he could, and
putting his two hands on his hips, thus
addressed the two young lovers: "What!
courting, Edmund? And who are you,
you little sylph? Get out of the way,
you young rascal do, and let me have a
bugs at those ruby lips." He was about
to take this liberty, when Edmund step-
ped between and said, "No, Sir; that is
sacred property, and you would offend."
"Poh! poh! boy! nonsense !"
pushed his son on one side and ravished
a kiss. "Fye! fye! colonel!" added
the lady; see how you make the
young creature blush; fye! fye! I am
really ashamed! That's more than you

He

gave me whenwe had been courting ten long years." "You, you old veteran you! why your old mouth is as hard as a flint; hers as soft and sweet as a nut. Kiss you, indeed!" He was about to repeat it, when she placed herself behind the son. "Oh! oh! What, I see, Edmund you have already planted the colour of victory, and captured the little black-eyed puss; well, well, I have never seen a young woman in the whole course of my life, I should sooner call my daughter. May I, Miss (for I presume by the beautiful and becoming blush now upon your little dimpled cheek, you have not yet tied the Gordian knot), may I presume to ask your name?" "Gertrude Everard, Sir. Gertrude was my mother's name." ""Well, I don't like it, colonel, there is something so phlegmatic about it," added his lady. "Who the devil asked you whether you liked it or not? I like it. No doubt Edmund likes it. What do you say, boy?" Edmund bowed assent. "Well, young ones, when have you settled for the happy day? If I was as you are, young dog, I would have it this moment! delays are dangerous."

perhaps she may be some indifferent
character," added the money calculating
dame, "Vile surmise! I should much
sooner suspect you, although you are
beyond your teens." Poor Gertrude
was about to retire, when the colonel
seized her hand: "Don't mind that old
soldier's wife, my little beauty! Ed-
mund, how long have you been court-
ing this little bewitching devil? "About
one hour, father." "Quite enough. I
like sudden things. To what regiment
does her father belong?"
"The
regiment of foot." "Come, my little
nymph, take this arm-you the other,
Edmund. You, old dame, form the
rear guard." Dragging Gertrude's arm
through his, off he marched into the
barracks of Serjeant Everard, and was
soon ushered into the room, the serjeant
being dressed for evening parade. Having
seated himself on the serjeant's bed, he
thus addressed him:-"Serjeant Everard,
I have a most grievous complaint to
make against your daughter." Here
poor Serjeant Everard's countenance
changed colour; for he dreaded some-
thing bad of his only child. "Indeed,
Sir, I am heartily sorry for that, but
-"""Oh, no! no-

But, Sir, said Edmund, blush- I trust nothing ing, "there is a barrier-a fatal bar-thing-nothing, only your daughter has rier." What is that, you yelping fool-won my son's heart-that's all." "The what are you sighing and snivelling thing her mother did for me," said the about-what's the barrier ?" "She is serjeant smiling. "Yes, indeed !" blusthe daughter of a serjeant." Here the tered the colonel's wife, "I should never colonel's wife broke into a rhapsody of have thought of such a piece of impucontempt, and turned up her ruby probo- dence." Wife, wife, wife!" "Aye, scis. My Edmund be tied to a ser- husband, husband! I don't mind your jeant's daughter! What a prolific piece frowning and contemptuous distortion of of impudence!" "Why, what are you your ugly phiz." "Ha! ha! ha!" belsnarling at ?—you are like the dog in the lowed the colonel, "that comes well manger. I say, Madam, where did from your pretty mouth! Will you Edmund's father pick you up?-answer have the kindness to make a retrograde me that!" "But I had one thousand movement, and toddle." Here his enpounds, Sir, when you picked me up, raged rib put her huge arms a-kimbo as you are pleased to designate our mar- and said, "If you so forget your rank, riage." "Yes, one thousand pounds of as the colonel commanding the -rebad manners, I grant." "You know, giment of foot, I shall not lose sight of colonel, you had not a shilling in the my dignity." "Ha! ha! ha! your digworld when I married." "Granted!nity, indeed! Excuse me, Mrs. Grundy, it was for the want of that necessary for I really cannot help it. Ha! ha! commodity I married, and I have paid ha!-he! he! he! Why, wife, you have pretty dear for such a loan." "But, as much dignity as the drum-major's Sir," continued the colonel's wife, "con- wife, when she has had her morning's sider your exalted rank-your dignity libation; or Major Paunch when he is -your honour." "I do, wife, and if dead drunk; be pacified, and let the I stood in the way of my son's hap- young ones enjoy themselves. You have piness, I should debase them all." "But had your day-aye, and a merry one too;

their society was courted, and they lived in the most perfect bliss.

But alas! where is mortal happiness without alloy? His regiment was ordered on foreign service, and he was killed by almost the first shot fired by the enemy, when leading on his troops to glory. The moment Gertrude heard of it she pined and drooped. Her father, whose discharge had been purchased, sickened and died on the awful news reaching him. This almost sunk her to the grave. The colonel and his wife both pined and died in six months afterwards. This last blow brought on a premature labour. From that period, her reason seemed to leave her. Yet she lived and wandered about in gloomy weeds of remembrance, well known as the ghost of Gertrude, the fairy queen. Perhaps, long ere this, for this tale is some years old, she met her Edmund, to be eternally united where those dear ties are not cut asunder.

BOASTING OF KINSHOLK.

"WHEN I lived at Utrecht," says Peacham, in his Complete Gentleman,

-come, come, old girl, don't put on those airs and graces; they don't add to your dignity, be assured; they don't sit well upon that lovely face of yours. Come, dame, give us one of those smiles that won my youthful bosom-heigho!" The colonel applied his right hand to his heart with a thump that nearly tumbled him. This only excited madam the more; when Gertrude, for the first time, broke silence, by saying, "Madam, I am extremely sorry that I have been the cause of such high words between you and the colonel." "Never mind her, my dear, let her have vent, she'll get tired of it before I shall." Here the enraged colonel's rib turned upon her heel and left there, muttering something like, "stop I get you home." When she had gond his hearing, the colonel said, old woman is gone off in a high bree we shall find her as cool as a cucumber by the time she gets home. Now, Serjeant Everard, let us proceed to business. Since my son has taken it into his head to fall in love with your lovely daughter, and I suppose she with him, I don't see why you and I, who have had our day," the reply of that valiant gentleman, should stand in their way." "But, Sir, said the serjeant, "the match is unequal, and not likely to perpetuate their happiness. One is the son of a colonel she the daughter of a serfeant." "Well, what the devil has that to do with it, I should like to know? I reckon my son as fine a youth as any in the army; and as for your daughter I have never seen her equal. Why they seem born for each other. What say you, my little daughter?" "A little time, if you please, Sir." "Poh, poh! nonsense!-now's the time, I hate long courtships I settled every thing in twenty-four hours with his mother; met, shook hands, kissed-then got buckled, and enough too. However, I will allow you seven days to consider of it. What say you, Serjeant Everard; does it meet your approbation?" "Sir, I should be mad to say it did not. I feel deeply honoured by such an alliance." That day week they were married; and in a few months she became a general favourite with all-even her step-mother, with whom Gertrude was every thing. She grew up even more lovely than before. They were called the beautiful pair;

Colonel Edmunds, was much spoken of. There came a countryman of his out of Scotland, who, desiring to be entertained by him, told him that my lord, his father, and such knights and gentlemen, his cousins and kinsmen, were in good health." Turning to his friends then by, "Gentlemen," said he, "believe not one word he says; my father is but a poor baker in Edinburgh, and works hard for his living, though this knave would make a lord of him to curry. favour with me, and make you believe I am a great man born, when I am none of the sort."

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