ON THE IMPRESS.*

Hark! how the church bells with a sudden peal

Stun the glad ear:-Tidings of joy have come, To crown each anxious hope. Two gallant ships

Met on the element; they met, they fought, And England triumph'd.

-Yet there was one who died

'Mid that day's glory, whose obscurer name
No great historian's page will chronicle;
'Twas in the catalogue of slain.-Thank
God!

The sound is not familiar to my ear.
But it was told me after, that this man
Was by a Press Gang's violence roughly
forc'd

From his own home, and wife, and little ones,
Who by his labour lived :--that he was one,
Whose uncorrupted heart could keenly feel
A husband's love, a father's anxiousness;
That from the wages of his toil he fed

The distant dear ones, and would talk of them

At midnight when he trod the silent deck With him he valued; talk of them, of joys That he had known-Oh God! and of the hour

When they should meet again, till his full heart,

His manly heart, at last would overflow,
Even like a child's with very tenderness.
Peace to his honest spirit! Suddenly
It came, and merciful, the ball of death;
For it came suddenly and shatter'd him,
And left no moment's agonizing thought
On those he loved so well.-

-He, ocean deep,

Now lies at rest. Be thou her comforter, Who art the widow's friend! Man does not know

What a cold sickness made her blood run back,

When first she heard the tidings of the fight;
Man does not know with whata dreadful hope
She listened to the names of those that died;
Man does not know, or knowing will not heed,
With what an agony of tenderness
She gaz'd upon her children, and beheld
His image who was gone. O God! be thou
Her comforter, who art the widow's friend!

FRIENDSHIP PUT TO THE TEST.

BY DIBDIN.

The courage of true British tars,

Gives their country a glorious name; If they float they are famous in wars,

If they sink they are floating in fame. Two sailors aboard the Barfleur,

One, Tom Tough, and Jack Lifeboat the other,

Were accustom'd hard toils to endure,

And to each be a friend and a brother.

Tom was placed in the top on a search, None to look out more cunning than he, When a wave gave the ship a lee-larch, And tumbled him into the sea: "All hands!" and "Out boats!" was the cry

Ropes were thrown, ev'ry tar tried to save him;

But in vain every art did they ply,

No effectual assistance they gave him. Jack Lifeboat, by energy drawn,

Watch'd lest poor Tom's life it should end; When Tom, his spent breath almost gone, Most piteously look'd at his friend; The glance all Jack's timbers soon shook, And he cried, while he mock'd at the wea ther,

"By heavens! Tom, I can't bear that look, Thou shalt live, or we'll perish together!" In a moment see Jack by Tom's side,

Fresh boats their wish'd safety ensure; While the sailors sing out with true pride, "By this action shall live the Barfleur!" What more anxious attention could draw? On the deck, by Jack Lifeboat, Tom stands;

And the world such a scene never saw, As these true and tried friends shaking hands.

THE SAILOR'S DESTINY. The sea child stood upon the deck, and wept, To view the bright isle where his father's slept

Grow dim in the mist of distance. On the shore

His mother weeping stood. He thought no

more

Of his bright dream; the hope of life seemed lost,

When he gaz'd back on that regretted coast,
Where all he lov'd on earth was left to sigh
To the soft breeze, that passes silently.
The dear form faded as the vessel flew,
And left that island in a mist of blue;
But fancy painted still the silent tear,
It seemed to him as fresh, and still as near,
Through all the mist, that! would not fade
away,

It followed in his after destiny!

He hath rode the ocean smiling since that

hour;

Hath seen the frailty of earthly power, Heroes have died around him, Glory's star, Hath been his land mark through the storm of war,

A King hath thank'd him, and a people's praise,

Hath swell'd the shout, a monarch deign'd to

Still unforgotten lives that early sigh,
In danger's hour, that moment has been nigh;
The memory of the dew drop of his home,
Will follow to the silence of his tomb-
There it will die, but still his country's tear,
Will write upon his grave a register!
W. A.

To be sure there is, and it's the best and sweetest hope of a tar, that, in every hour of danger and of difficulty, "the same gracious Providence watches for all." But there, I arn't a going to give you a long rigmarol for a pro-log. No, no, I'll just tell you the story as I've heard it fifty times with my own ears on board the ould "Marmaid," commanded by Captain Malcolm, for d'ye see Jem Gantline knew all about it, and many a midwatch he's kept us awake by telling it.

"It was one beautiful morning in July (says Jem), and the sun was just taking his look-out aloft, that Ned Davenport quitted his native village to become a lonely wanderer upon the wide world, determined to stifle recollection among the busy scenes of life, or amidst the tumult [No. 31

and wild roar of warfare. Yet, on passing through the churchyard, he stopped to shed one last tribute on the grave of his parents. He looked on the surrounding lands and spacious farm which once had been their property, and thought of the time when, overwhelmed with accumulated distress, they had descended to their long home in anguish and poverty. He turned from this to catch a distant view of the stately mansion which contained all that was dear and precious to him in existence; and a sweet girl she w too (Jem would say) for I remembe her, messmates, like a lovely flowe blooming on the breast of spring. But, when poor Ned was left destitute, all intercourse was between them, and th had throbbed together were cruelly torn from

1

len

-but I lie messmates, I lie, nothing on earth can separate the hearts that truly love. Howsomever, they parted without a hope of meeting again on the shores of time. Oh, who can paint the sorrows of his soul as he lay prostrate on the grassy mound, and poured forth the anguish of his spirit? I cannot do it justice, messmates, for my scuppers overflow whenever I think of it. That name, that endearing name, he had first learned to lisp in early infancy, "My mother!" burst from his lips, and then he prayed to Heaven for mercy. Mercy was near, -a kindly voice, mild as the gentle breeze on the shores of the Mediterranean, instilled the balm of consolation on his wounded mind, and directed him to look up to that wise unerring Being who feeds the young ravens when they cry. 'Twas the curate of the village, who had been passing the night by the humble pallet of a dying cottager, administering the last offices of humanity, and encouraging the departed spirit ere it took its flight to the realms of everlasting rest. He was returning to his little home when he heard the petition for mercy, and, as the servant of that Power to whom it was addressed, he soothed the sufferer's anguish, calmed the inward tempest of his mind, and they parted -the curate to his modest mansion, and Ned-ay, Ned, to brave the dangers, to feel the contumely of that world to which he was a stranger.

"The father of Anna had risen from comparative obscurity to wealth and honours: he was what they call a privy gown-seller. I don't know what it means, but they told me it was something near the king, and so he had no time to devote to his daughter, whose mother died in giving her birth; and the sweet girl like a mountain rose-bud, grew luxuriantly wild, till poor Ned's parents, feeling for her situation, loved and cherished her their

own; and thus was:

deep, strong, deathless passion, which distance could not shake, or time dissolve. I knows what love is, messmates, for in my younger days I-but there, it's over now, it's over -yet I love to think about it too. She heard of Edward's departure, and struggled with her agony; but the generous man who had softened the sorrows of the youth performed the same kind office for the sinking maid. Her principal gratification was to wander to the lone churchyard, and, sitting on the cold grave stone near the resting-place of be early friends, she would recall the visions of her childhood, and commune with her own sad heart. Now, messmates, you shall hear is what manner she kept her vows of truth and constancy; but, poor thing, she couldn't help it!

“It was one still calm evening that a gallant little 20-gun ship lay under easy sail in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, to protect the commerce of our country from the attacks of the enemy. Five weeks had already passed on that enchanting station, many of you know it, messmates, no doubt, and our cruise (for I was in her) had been particularly fortunate in making captures and reprisals. The week after we were to return into port for stores and provisions. Well, d'ye see, the hands were turned up to skylark, deck and every soul hurried upon to enjoy the sport. The captain and officers assembled abaft, and shared among themselves in the amusement; but in all their athletic exercises, no one could be found fore and aft to equal the junior lieutenant. This young man had risen solely by merit to the quarter. deck; and his bravery in several actions had recommended him so powerfully to his commander, whose life he had once preserved at the imminent risk of his own, that he adopted him as his son, and obtained him a commission in his own name, for Captain Malcolm himself had come in at the hawse-holes,

and had no relations that he knew of in the world. Young Malcolm was beloved, ay, almost idolized, - by every hand aboard.

He was the smart seaman, the brave officer, and without departing from the strict line of duty, he conciliated the esteem and regard of all the men. His face, bronzed by a tropical sun, was seamed with honourable scars, that made him appear much older than he really was. His figure was remarkably neat and trim, firm-built and powerful, and he tried to copy his benefactor in every pursuit.

"A match against time had just been made from the deck to the mast-head and down again, and the lieutenant was laying his hand upon the truck, when, casting his eye round the horizon, he shouted "A sail, a sail, upon the lee beam!" All was instantly hushed. "Turn the hands up, make sail!" cried the captain. "Keep her away, boys! Square the after-yards! Stations, men, stations! Masthead there!" "Sir !"

"Look out when she's right a-head." "Ey, ey, sir; starboard a little-there, steady, so, steady!" In a few minutes every stitch of canvas that would draw a breath of wind was spread and trimmed. We had just light sufficient to make out that the stranger was a large ship, when darkness obscured all farther observation. The breeze freshened, and the officers crowded on the forecastle to look out for the chase. Eight bells came, and we began to fear that we had missed the stranger. The captain was just giving directions to alter the course, when a marine sung out, "I've got her, sir, I've got her!" "Got who?" inquired the lieutenant. "Got her, sir, got the ship," replied the sodger. "Where? where?" said the captain, running aft. Here, sir! here, in the starboard waist." "That's right, my lad, hold her fast," exclaimed a midshipman, while the sail was shortened and the ship hauled to the wind. We were sufficiently

close to discover that the stranger was a heavy frigate, and, as our night signals were unanswered, conIcluded she was an enemy. "Give him a shot," cried the captain ;-it was instantly returned by a whole broadside that laid several of our best men lifeless on the deck, and the action commenced with daring bravery. Well, d'ye see, we kept at it for about two hours, when the frigate's fire began to slacken, and shortly after ceased. "Sail trimmers to the weather braces," cried the captain. "Boarders on the starboard quarter! Stand by to heave all aback, and, Malcolm, be ready to lead the men." All this was obeyed; but, just as we got with our yard-arms touching, the enemy poured in a tremendous fire, and Captain Malcolm, with his second lieutenant, fell. It would be impossible to describe the sensations of horror which this event occasioned. The young officer ran and raised his generous friend. He was yet living, though the tide seemed ebbing fast; but his poor messmate was a corpse. "Leave me, Malcolm; leave me, my brave lad," faintly articulated the captain; and, pointing to the colours, added, "Tis the flag of England-do your duty. Take her and I die content." At this moment one of the midshipmen came to young Malcolm, and told him the first lieutenant talked of striking. Rage and indignation shook his frame. The captain had been carried below senseless, and the command devolved upon the senior officer-that officer who was about to disgrace himself for ever. The first lieutenant was giving directions to haul down the colours and the light, when Malcolm rushe aft. Here he found the boatswai standing by the ensign halliards, with his pistol cocked, swearing he would shoot the first man that offered to touch them. The com officer drew his sword, the act of making a thr shot very unceremonio

off with his head, and the sole charge now rested upon Malcolm, who fought the ship with heroic intrepidity, determined not to surrender till every hope was lost. The carpenter appeared, and reported that we were making so much water, that she could not hold it out another half hour. This was appalling news, yet, rousing all the energies of his mind, he called to the master to lay him aboard the frigate. In a few minutes the young officer, followed by his brave crew, were upon the enemy's deck, and the conflict became terrible. In vain we swept away our foes, others instantly supplied their places, and, though our numbers were fast diminishing, yet our hearts were unsubdued. Twenty minutes had elapsed in hard fighting, when the master, carpenter, and surgeon, were seen on our own decks carrying in their arms our beloved commander-the ship was sinking. This sight operated like enchantment on the men, a wild shout of desperation resounded, and in a few minutes more the frigate was our own. Scarcely had Malcolm received the Dutch captain's sword, (for she was a Dutch frigate, laden with specie for the Cape,) scarcely

had the three officers with their dying burden been assisted on board, than our gallant little bark went down. In a few hours afterward

our brave captain breathed his last, and we bore up for England, where we anchored in Plymouth Sound, in about eight days' time. The young hero landed, and was ordered by the commander-in-chief to carry his own despatches to the metropolis: at the same time receiving letters of introduction to a nobleman in a high official station. On his arrival he drove immediately to the house and it happened that a large party of the nobility were assembled to a sheave-o as they call it. Now I can tell all this, messmates, for a fact, because d'ye see I was with him to take care of his colours and baggage, having sailed with him when he

you

was a youngster, and first taught him his duty as a seaman; but no matter for that; his lordship left the company, and entered the room where Malcolm was waiting to receive him; but when their eyes met, the young officer staggered back upon a chair, and turned as pale as ashes. Recovering, how. ever, he apologised for his behaviour, and attributed it to the effects of his unhealed wounds. The Dutch captain's sword and the frigate's colours were displayed, and while the lieutenant took some refreshment, Lord N- returned to the draw. ing-room, and related the particulars. All were desirous of seeing the intrepid young tar immediately; but his lordship promised to introduce him the following day, as he had no doubt that Malcolm required rest. Among the party were several members of the cabinet, that's a strong box, I believe, messmates, and every one of the gemmen be longing to it carries a gold key in his pocket, but I arn't sure; howsomever, next morning some of’em got telling our good old king about it, and he expressed a wish to see the officer. Malcolm of course was introduced, and appeared before his majesty with his right arm round with a black bandage, his left suspended in a sling, while his curly hair, hanging over his forehead scarcely concealed the covering of a deep wound. Make, make, make him a captain,' said old George; 'shall be a captain, shall be a captain-he deserves it-good officer, brave officer-shall be a captain;' and Malcolm obtained a commission for post rank. On the same evening he dined with his lordship, but on entering the room his embarrassment and agitation were excessive, as the ladies crowded round, and were almost ready to embrace him. Lord N- led him first to his daughter, and Anna (for 'twas she,

bound

messmates, 'twas she) received him with all the natural warmth and goodness of her heart. I saw it all,