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regaled, I remember seeing a pile of carcases of small, half-starved sheep, at the commissary's bivouac in the Pyrenees. These were to be served out to the troops; and such was their extremity of leanness, that, at night, a candle placed inside of one of them, made an excellent lantern, for the skinny covering of the ribs offered no impediment to the light.

THE ACTION OF THE PYRENEES.

On the morning before we advanced, on going over the ground we had fought on the day before, we found a gallant old soldier, named Bartlet, who had been shot dead in the act of firing his piece. The firelock was still at the " present," and so firm was his dying grasp that it was with difficulty taken from his hands. I was much distressed to find lying near him a fine handsome boy, a drummer of my old grenadier company, named Lawler. He had taken the firelock of a wound. ed man, who was sent to the rear, and went out, (as I afterwards learnt he said,) to amuse himself with a bit of skirmishing. The brave boy's "amusement" ended fatally for him.

Neither difficulty, nor danger, nor privation, could check the everbuoyant and indomitable spirits of Lieutenant Blakeny of our regiment. I heard him, poor fellow half laughing and half crying, quizzing the doctor, who was carefully setting his shattered leg.

Captain Sherer of the 34th commanded the rock-picket on the morning of the action. It was a post of some consequence to check the enemy's advance. Sherer defended it most nobly. All his brave fellows were either killed or disabled, and he was left nearly alone. It was only then, that, finding himself surrounded by the enemy, he advanced towards the nearest French officer, and with a polite bow, worthy of the times of the ancien regime, surrendered his sword, and the post he had so gallantly defended, and was made prisoner.

THE ADVANTAGE OF HAVING A SPORTING TASTE.-When we were on the heights of Aldendes in November 1813, many of us were obliged to sleep under canvass. I was much better off than most of my com. rades in that bitter time; my bed was a bear-skin stuffed with fern (the bear, I beg to state, was the victim of my own prowess); on each side of, and close to me, was a well-fed greyhound; a fat Spanish pointer crouched at my feet, and my little terrier was stowed away under the blanket. In this fashion I managed to live through a November night under a tent in the Pyrenees.

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WALTER CHILDE.

BY MR. BULLER OF BRAZEN NOSE,

CANTO V.

I ONCE was guilty of a certain tract

On verse-craft in a crack Encyclopedie, And therefore am more bound to be exact

In all set rules, or people may be ready
(That is, the three or four who know the fact,

And may have read the thing,) to cry out, "Heyday!
Preaching's not doing!" Well, then, in this crisis,
Tell me, good Adam Smith, what your advice is.

"There's nought so stupid as two lovers, quite
Prosperous, and by no tyrant fate debar'd
From toying, and expressing their delight
In one another's company."* That's hard,
But true; the old fastidious Scot is right;

For which good cause, ev'n that kind-hearted bard,
Tom Campbell, my old favourite, doth not spare
A squeeze of lemon in his capillaire.

Let's see." In visions of romantic youth,

What years of endless bliss are yet to flow!
But, mortal pleasure, what art thou in truth?

The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below!"+
Thus Campbell; and what by and bye ensueth
May follow the same rule, for aught I know;
Not that I patronize Fate's wicked frolics,
Save to avoid the charge of growing prolix.

Albeit, at present I may claim a smile

Of Sympathy from man, or maid, or wife,
Our hero's bark hath touch'd at a green isle
Chequering the troubled sea of human life;
And summer weather doth the thought beguile

Of his past course through waves of toil and strife,
With little sea-stock but a dauntless heart,
Truth at the helm, and Conscience for his chart,

In plain round prose, what man of twenty-eight,
A first-rate horseman almost from his birth.
Constrain'd to mortify his bones of late

With the worst, cheapest stumbling hacks on earth,
And feeling in his lonely bookworm state

The "besoin d'aimer," like a sense of dearth,

Had not felt glorious as the gods above,

Well horsed, and petted by his lady-love?

And such a love! her heart for years seal'd down,
And stored, like a rich flask of bright champagne,

For his own opening touch, and his alone;

With birth and means, (which none at heart disdain,)

A second self, adopting as her own

His every crotchet, and divining plain

Each thought that be had felt since he was born;
As fond as Juliet, and as fair as morn.

• See Adam Smith's " Theory of moral Sentiments," vol. i. p. 66. + See Gertrude of Wyoming, Part III, stanza 5.

Not that she quite engross'd his every thought;
Something was due unto the borrow'd steed,
Whose full veins, starting from his glossy coat,
And proud stag-eye, bespoke his generous breed ;
The nostril red, and finely-chisell❜d throat,

Betokening wind and bottom good at need,
With bone and power for any warlike weight,
Say sixteen stone-our friend stood twelve stone eight.
No wonder if a spark of martial pride
Inspired again the sober man of law,

When on the lawn, his true-love by his side,
He view'd this fiery charger snort and paw.
He felt in mood to blazon far and wide

Her beauty at sword-point, (but he saw
No modern warrant for the freak,) or stake
His arm against a squadron for her sake.

"Sound boot and saddle; let me lift you onNow for black Rupert-perfect every jointSoho, boy! paces like a paragon

Now, Isolde, for your secret,-your grand pointNo Paladin from Paynim ever won

A nobler desert Arab; but aroynt,

Ye visions in my leaguer days so dear;

Grave John o' the Scales must think of other gear.

"He minds me of my gallant Bevis so,

Shot under me at Roundway." "That affair,” Said Isolde, "in detail I fain would know."

66

Why, we had fighting plenty, and to spare;

Battles are much alike." "So long ago,

That you forgot you took a standard there,

And Wilmot, as a little bird reveal'd,

Made you full-captain on the battle-field."

"Why, who on earth could tell you ?"—" Our Friend Forde, Your father confessor-he comes to-night."

"Well, now for the grand secret which you stored." "Remember, sir, you put me in a fright:

Think how at first Elizabeth abhor'd

Poor unknown Isolde : you shall glut my spite
By seven hours' penance, ere the rest you learn.
But now prepare for what doth most concern.

"I bought your father's land, and the old hall."
"Good Heav'n! the poor old tenants! how sincere
Their joy. So you're an heiress, after all!

Dear thoughtful creature, more than ever dear!" "Nay, hear; my mother's fortune was too small

To compass it unmortgaged; Catherine here Lent fifteen thousand. You must work and slave, And I retrench my costly tastes, and save."

"Work! save! redeem it!--give me but employ,

I could move mountains. Rupert, sir, how now ?"

"You stuck the spurs too sharply in for joy;
Well done! that plunge was master'd, I'll allow,
Most bravely; he 's no plaything for a boy.
I well remember me at Basing, how

Lord Winchester was wont to praise your seat;
'Tis just like my dear father's, quite complete.

"Did I e'er tell you he was disinherited

For turning out a bitter cavalier

Like you an me? it was hard, perhaps unmerited;
But my aunt proved a faithful steward here.

How well that dear horse goes! so free and spirited!
Walter, he must be yours;---nay, never fear,
The agency will prove no bad resource;

He may be bought, and you will need a horse.

'I'm in a mazy fairy land," said he.

"How came the place into your hands and when?" "It was for sale in my minority.

My aunt, who had a business-head like men,
Was tempted by a hint contrived by me

To reach her-she was Catherine's guardian then,
As well as mine; and, as it was cheaply sold,
Vested our portions, as you have been told."

"Your hint? I shall believe Kate's laughing taunt
Of the weird-woman." 66 Recollect the chair
In the old oaken parlour, where my aunt

Sat sweetly dozing, as you pictured there To no unwilling ears each early haunt

The hazle copse, the downs so free and fair-
Oh, Walter! Basing levell'd with the ground!
Think of it, and we prosperous, safe and sound!"

A shade of pensive feeling cross'd each face,
And kept them silent; but it soon was gone,
Like a cloud passing in a moment's space.

"Walter, where went you when the wars were don i "To Utrecht straight. I studied at the place

For a whole year." "Our letters said that none Bearing your name had ever made resort,

So far as known, to Charles' exiled court.

"Then, too, at Worcester,--sure you fought not the
Our cousia Blundell, of the heavy horse,
Saw all the captured muster-rolls; could swear
Your name appear'd not in the royal force,
A name to Cromwell known."-"They bid me fair
In promised rank; but I had fixed my course:
Forde, then my new-made friend, had changed my m
And taught me well to weigh the sin of blood.

"I dwelt in town, wed to my new vocation,
Rusting in utter bookworm solitude,
And lack'd the means, still more the inclination,
To play the fool with tavern-roisterers rude,
Whom I had known in the more honour'd station
Of comrades; some of easier faith pursued
The Prince's fortunes; and among the last
Were many of the true heroic cast.

"The Wogans, ever last in the retreat,

And first in onset (Vaughan was the real name); 'No' is soon said to selfish wants, for sweet

Is independence, and 'tis all the same

Next morning; but when men like these entreat, Judgment must wage hard battle with false shame;

I own 'twas something to be call'd a trial,

To give such friends a calm and firm denial.

"I held the Worcester enteprize a vain

Waste of good blood against all hope; in truth My mind was settling in a different train;

Quench'd was the martial fire of reckless youth,
By study, thought, and poverty. Tis plain,

As in good books of Tobit and of Ruth,
Our treasured motto, Bess, has turn'd out true;
Tis mine henceforward- Esperance en Dieu.'"

They look'd on one another; words would baulk
Th' expression of that feeling which possess'd
Their hearts; then rein'd their horses to a walk.
Catherine this time knew better than to jest,
And was, besides, not much disposed to talk :
She was arranging in her mind how best
To make her pledged avowal of a part
Which shamed not, in my mind, her head or heart.

"Now tell me more about your London life."—
"In truth twas anything but the excess
Of feasting and carousing, marrying wife
Or wives, as in the days of foolishness,
When honest Noah waged perpetual strife
With those same jolly patriarchs, dearest Bess.
But I paid all their own, made both ends meet,
And in a rough way got enough to eat.

"A student's life's monotonous enough

As matter to rehearse in prose or rhyme. I fenced and ran, to keep my sinews tough, And get most exercise in shortest time. So my health throve. I'm a hard bit of stuff, Not much the worse for London's smoky clime; But now I've recommenced the sylvan man, How I shall sing, Ban-Ban-Ca-Caliban !'

·

"A beggar you have found me ; 'tis your will
To set me upon horseback in each sense:
I shame not that my sire had not the skill
To lose our honour, and retain our pence.
But how can I repay-it haunts me still-
The affection, the solicitude intense.

Which sought me fruitlessly from shore to shore ?”--
Do justice to my aunt: I ask no more.

66

"Her early disappointment, though it sour'd

Her outward manners, ne'er at heart unsex'd her; Catherine, on whom advantages were shower'd

From childhood, often with wild glee perplex'd her. Me she was pleased to call more staid and toward : I trust that wilfully I never vex'd her; And she gave way to me in the one thing In which she styled me obstinate,--your ring.

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"Her heart was won by your attentions, shown
In need; she learn'd your birth was not obscure,
When to survey my purchase she went down,
And heard your praises from the old and poor.
Her faith in county blood was like my own:
She saw my girlish constancy endure
The test of womanhood; in fine, relented,
And, by our rector's good advice, consented."

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