which might have been the means of saving a great many from destruction; but as soon as the two jollyboats were lowered down from the quarters and clear of the ship, the men (for their were no officers in them) bore up, and were no more seen by their unhappy shipmates, who staid by the wreck. The cutter and barge, in hoisting out, were stove and swamped; and thirty men, unable to regain the ship, perished. By the fall of the masts several people were killed, and others desperately mangled; and two midshipmen were killed by the spanker-boom crushing them between it and the side. The termination of the miseries of all appeared fast approaching; and the launch being the only boat that was not either stove or wrecked, was filled with men on the booms, and, without having the means of mechanical power, or the necessity of using it (the water having at this time covered the whole wreck, with the exception of the poop), she floated off the booms, to the great joy of every one, and escaped the many dangers she had to encounter with the floating pieces of the ship and broken masts. She afterwards came under the stern, where many, in attempting to swim to her, shared the untimely fate of those that had preceded them. No intreaties could prevail on Captain Raynsford to quit his ship. From the first moment of her striking, to the launch's last quitting her, he conducted himself in a manner the most heroic. His presence of mind never forsook him, and his whole faculties were employed in saving his people. He and 346 others were supposed to have perished, while only 121 men and two women were saved. The Athénienne had on board dollars to the amount of 10,000l., and despatches for Malta and Sicily. The launch, on leaving the wreck, which was about an hour and a half after the ship had struck, immedi ately pulled towards the island of Maritimo, which (with the assistance of a miserable sail made out of the men's shirts) they got sight of at day-light, the morning of the 21st. At the same time they boarded a Danish brig, which gave them a sail, bread and water, and a little brandy. They put two officers and twenty men on board of her, who went to look our for the wreck, in hopes of saving some who might have been still clinging to it. But the wind blew so fresh, the Danish vesse failed in this benevolent intention It is supposed that the wreck went to pieces soon after the launch lek her, particularly as the wind cont nued to increase after the ship fits struck, and the next day it blew stronger. Two of the boats, which first escaped from the wreck, were in sight when the launch boarded the Dane, and followed them to Maritimo, which they reached about four o'clock in the evening of the 21st. They were very humanely treated by the governor, and remained there all night. The next day they set out for Trepani in Sicily, where they arrived that night. Here finding small boat bound to Malta, some embarked and arrived there on the 25th, after encountering all the horrors of a shipwreck, as dreadful perhaps in consequences as was ever experienced. His Majesty's Brig Boreas. On November 28th, 1807, His Majesty's Ship, Boreas, Captain Scott, in standing towards the Island of Guernsey, ran upon the Hannois Rocks about six in the evening, the wind blowing hard at N. E. On the tide flowing she overset and became a a complete wreck about two o'clock. Through the exertions of Sir Thomas Saumarez, about 30 were saved. Capt. Scott, with several of his officers, and about 100 of his brave crew, perished. ANECDOTES, WITTICISMS, &c. The brave, but eccentric Captain Timothy Edwards possessed many singularities, which could, however scarcely be deemed otherwise than virtues, or bright points in his character as a naval commander. One anecdote we have heard of him is, that, previous to his going into some action, he literally ordered the colors to be nailed to the ensignstaff, and from thence acquired among the seamen, the whimsical name of "Old hammer and nails." Another is, that being struck down by a splinter he lay for some time on the deck, completely motionless, insomuch that all those round him, concluding hin dead, were bewailing, in their uncouth, but affectionate terms, his disaster. Stunned as he was he soon recovered his recollection, but lay without appearance of life for a few moments, till at length one of his people uttering an exclamation of grief, whimsically expressed, at his fate, saying he was certainly dead, Captain Edwards jumped instantly on his feet, and exclaimed, "It's a lie, by God; fire away my lads." Sir Sidney Smith.-- At the battle fought near Alexandria, on the 21st of March 1801, in which the gallant Sir Ralph Abercrombie received his mortal wound, Major Hall, aid-de-camp to General Craddock, whilst going with orders had his horse killed. Seeing Sir Sidney he begged to mount his orderly-man's horse. As Sir Sidney was turning round to bid him give it to Major Hall, a cannon ball struck off the Dragoon's head. "This," exclaimed Sir Sidney, "is destiny! the horse Major Hall is yours.' A Religious Chaplain.----When the Earl of Cloncarte was Captain of a man-of-War and cruising off the Coast of Guinea, he happened to lose his chaplain, who was carried off by the yellow fever; upon which the lieutenant, who was a Scotchman, gave him notice of it, saying at the same time, that he was sorry to inform him that he died a Roman Catholic." "Well, so much the better," said his Lordship. "Hoot awa, my Lord, how can you say so of a British clergyman?" Why," said his lordship, "because I believe I am the first Captain of a man-of-war that could boast of a chaplain who had any religion at all. 66 George the Second and Admiral Hawke. This illustrious warrior was in such high estimation with his good old master, George II, that nothing seemed more pleasant to his Majesty than to advance the interests of so faithful a servant. Once, when there were to be promotions in the army and navy, the King demanded to look at the lists; when, reading the names of the former as they stood, each had a friend to speak of his merits, except poor Major Wolfe. "What!" said his Majesty, "is there no one to speak for Wolfe?" The Earl of Chesterfield, who it seems was no great friend to the Major, observed that Wolfe had all the rashness of a madman. His Majesty, who had well weighed his worth, answered hastily, in his plain but honest way, "So much the better, my Lord; I will promote him for that, and I hope he will bite some of my Generals." No great compliment to those of that quality who might be present. Upon reading over the navy list, the conduct was similar, till the King came to Hawke: all were silent. What," said his Majesty, Majesty, "has Hawke done, that no one will speak for him?" The silence continued-"Well," rejoined the King, ،، then I will speak for him: Hawke shall be my Admiral." This coming from George the second, was eulogium enongh for any one; for no King ever knew better how to find out merit, or delighted more to reward it. ،، Poetical Scraps. THE INCHCAPE BELL. A TRADITION. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without either sign, or sound of their shock, The Abbot of Aberbrothok Had floated that bell on the Inchcape Rock: On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, And louder, and louder, it warning rung. When the rock was hid by the tempest's swell, The mariners heard the warning bell; The Sun, in Heaven, shone so gay- The sea-birds scream'd, as they sported round, And there was pleasure in their sound. The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen, His eye was on the bell and float- Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound; Quoth Sir RALPH, the next who comes to the Rock, Will not bless the priest of Aberbrothok. Sir RALPH, the Rover, sail'd away: So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky, On the deck the Rover takes his stand, Canst hear, said one, the breakers roar; They hear no sound, the swell is strong, Tho' the wind hath fallen they drift along; Till the vessel strikes with a shiv'ring shockOh, Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock! Sir RALPH, the Rover, tore his hair; But even in his dying fear, One dreadful sound could the Rover hear; A sound as if, with the Inchcape bell, The devil below was ringing his knell. JACK'S ALIVE. BY T. DIBDIN. Sweet Nancy Nouse, and Jack Jib-boom, One Pest, a knowing and false friend, When Jack was out at sea, Laid siege to Nancy to no end, For a true wife was she. He teazed her with each doubt and fear, He kept Jack's letters back, forg'd news Her virtue to ensnare, And did her patient ear abuse, To drive her to despair. When a hoarse voice like thunder roar'd, "You lie, friend, Jack's alive." 'Twas Jack; he chas'd all her alarms; He kick'd Pest down the stairs, Then, hast'ning to her longing arms, He banish'd all her cares. "His children to his heart he prest, Bid joy again revive; While Nancy cried, I'm truly bless'd, Thank heav'n, my Jack's alive. "I dearly love a sailor!" exclaimed the beautiful and fascinating Mrs. D--, as she stood in the balcony of her house, leaning upon the arm of her affectionate and indulgent husband, and gazing at a poor shattered tar, who supplicated charity by a look that could not fail to interest the generous sympathies of the heart; "I dearly love a sailor, they are so truly the children of nature: and I never feel more disposed to shed tears, than when I see the hardy veteran, who has sacrificed his youth, and even his limbs, in the service of his country, "Cast abandoned on the world's wide stage, And doomed in scanty poverty to roam.' Look at yon poor remnant of the tempest; "probably reduced to the hard necessity of becoming a wan[No. 28. derer, without a home to shelter him, or ever witnessing one commiserating smile to shed a ray of sunshine on the winter of his life. I can remember, when a child, I had an uncle who loved me very tenderly, and my attachment to him was excessive; indeed he was the pride and admiration of the village, and every one esteemed the cheerful mariner. But untoward events cast a gloom upon his mind; he hastened away to sea, and we never saw him more."--By this time the weather-beaten, care-worn seaman, had advanced towards the house, and cast a wistful glance aloft; but it was full of honest pride that disdained to beg, and yet his appear ance was so marked with eve emblem of poverty and hunger, t as the conflicting feelings worl within his breast, his countenance betrayed the struggles of his heart. There was, however, a manly firmness in his deportment that bespoke no ordinary mind; and a placid serenity in his eye, that beamed with benevolence, and seemed only to regret that he could no longer be a friend to the poor destitute, or share his hard-earned pittance with a messmate in distress. A few scattered grey locks peeped from beneath an old straw hat, and one sleeve of bis jacket hung unoccupied by his side-the arm was gone. I should like to hear his history," said the amiable lady; "let us send for him in." To express a wish and have it gratified were the same thing to Mrs. D-, and in a few minutes the hoary tar stood before them. "Would you wish to hear a tale of woe?" cried the old man in answer to her request. "Ah no! why should your tender heart be wounded for another's griefs? I have been buffetted by the storms of affliction -I have struggled against the billows of adversity-every wave of sorrow has rolled over me; but," added he, while a glow of conscious integrity suffused his furrowed cheek, "but I have always done my duty, and that conviction has buoyed me up when nearly overwhelmed in the ocean of distress. Yet, lady, 'twas not always thus I have been happy -was esteemed, and, as I thought, beloved. I had a friend in whom 1 reposed the highest confidence, and my affections were devoted to one but she is gone-she is gone, and I-yes! we shall meet again.' Here he paused, dashed a tear from his eye, and then proceeded. "My My friend was faithless; he robbed me of the dearest treasure of my heart, and blasted every hope of happiness and joy. I left my native land to serve my country-have fought her battles, and bled in her defence. On the 29th of May, and the glorious 1st of June, 1794, I served on wounded in the breast; but I did my duty. On that memorable occa sion, a circumstance occurred which added to my bitterness and melancholy. The decks were clearedthe guns cast loose-and every man stood in eager expectation at his quarters. It is an awful moment, lady, and every conflicting emotion agitates the breast, when, in the calm stillness that reigns fore and aft, the mind looks back upon the past, and contemplates the future. Home, wife, children, and every tender remembrance, rush upon the soul. It is different in the heat of action; then every faculty is em ployed for conquest, that each ma may have to say, "I have done my duty." But when bearing down to engage, and silence is so profound that every whisper may be heard, then the thought-it cannot be des cribed-sailors know what it is and, conquering it by cool determ nation, and undaunted bravery nobly do their duty. I was statione at the starboard side of the quarter deck, and looked around me with feelings incident to human nature, yet looking for and courting death. The admiral, with calm composure, surrounded by his captains and sig nal officers, stood upon the break of the poop, while brave Bowell, the master, occupied the ladder, and gave directions to the quartermaster at the helm. The enemy opened their fire, and the captains of the guns stood ready with their matches in their hands, waiting for the word. The work of destruction commenced, and many of our ship mates lay bleeding on the deck, but not a shot had we returned. “Stand by there upon the main deck," cried the first lieutenant. Steady, my men! wait for command, and don't throw your fire away!" "All ready, sir," was responded fore and aft. At this moment a seamen advanced upon the quarter-deck, at tended by a young lad (one of the quivering lip betrayed the tremulous Pore-top men), whose pale face and board the Queen Charlotte, under gallant Howe, and was severely |