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their cocked-up hats; there were Reverend Divines soaking their wigs in liquor; men who scarcely ever raised their eyes in the street, were unblushingly chanting snatches of obscene songs—in short, it was a terrible picture of debauchery.

Just at this moment, when intemperance was at its height, a body of seamen rushed into the cabin, ready prepared with lashings, and in the twinkling of an eye the whole of the pretended saints were pinioned. Amazement and horror almost sobered them, the noise of mirth subsided into complaints, and on the captain commanding silence, each sat as mute as he well could. St. Loo then addressed them from the head of the table on the enormities and follies they had committed; he upbraided them for punishing him for so small an offence as walking in the streets on the Sunday, whilst they themselves indulged their vicious propensities in secret, and were like whited sepulchres. He exhorted them for the healthful state of their precious souls to avoid lewdness, uncharitableness, and all ungodliness, and after a long lecture, energetically delivered-during which the abashed select sat crest-fallen and malicious—he concluded “Woe unto ye hypocrites, as ye have meted out to others so shall it be measured to you again. Men, do your duty."

In an instant, two or three stout seamen laid hold of each of the guests, and heedless of their cries, entreaties and struggles, dragged them

upon deck — it was yet broad daylight, and the unfortunate captives were horrified at beholding the whole ship's company assembled to witness their shame; nor was this all, for upon a signal from the captain, the seamen proceeded to strip the delinquentsand they were promptly seized to the quarter deck guns. The boatswain and his mates, armed with their instruments of flagellation, the cat-oʻ-nine-tails, took four at a time, and administered the law of Moses secundem artem, with a far better will than ever they experienced on any former occasion, for several of the seamen had tasted of the discipline of Bosion for being drunk ashore.

There was no uproar, no confusion amongst the tars, they went steadily on with their operations, and vain were all the petitions, ragings, stampings, and curses of the floggee—the appeals for mercy were disregarded, and the captain mounted on the sky-light, affectionately admonished them, and uttered repeated assurances that he chastised them in perfect love—the infliction being consonant to their own doctrine, that the mortification of the flesh tended in an eminent degree towards the saving of the soul, and therefore he should consider himself criminal were he to deprive them of one lash.

It was a curious spectacle to witness the rueful countenances of those who were waiting for their turn to come round, and contrast their looks with the sly humour of the seainen, who silently and respectfully witnessed the correction, for every thong was done in the most orderly manner; and when the former had undergone the whole of their discipline, which had flayed them from the nape of the neck to the hams, the captain tendered his hand to them in brotherly regard, protesting that he had “inflicted the cat solely for their good," and then in the most polite way imaginable, had them conducted to their boat, taking leave of them with apparent grief, and earnestly begging them "to remember him in their prayers.” The boat shoved off—the seamen manned the rigging, and

gave them three hearty cheers. The anchor was run up to the bows, and the frigate made sail for the West Indies. Captain Saint Loo lived many years afterwards; in 1745 he commanded the Princess Royal, a second-rate, and two years subsequent he was placed on the superannuated list, with the rank and half-pay of a Rear-Admiral. He died on the 28th December, 1757.


A JOLLY tar who had been paid a handsome sum of prize money for the capture of a Spanish frigate laden with treasure from the southern continent of America, being anxious to commemorate the event, entered the shop of a silversmith and ordered a massive gold ring, that on a pinch would have served for the ring of a boat's anchor, and a pair of silver buckles, an inch in thickness. When they were finished, the seaman called, and was much pleased with the articles, which having overhauled for some time with considerable earnestness, he inquired whether “it was not customary to put a posy on a ring ?”

“ Assuredly it is,” replied the tradesman ; " and anything you may be pleased to suggest, shall be engraved on yours in the best possible manner; the date of the action; or the name of some favourite lady.”

“ Gammon,” exclaimed the tar, scratching his head as he turned the golden bauble over ; “ Cash won't last for ever, so just put upon it,

When money's low

The ring must go. And as there's plenty of room on the buckles, why you may cut out on

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This was accordingly done to Jack's entire satisfaction, and most probably both inottoes were strictly accomplished.


How far admiral Byng merited his fate is now—when prejudices and selfish motives can no longer prevail-pretty well understood, and justice is done to the character of a brave man whom injustice consigned to an ignominious death-certain it is he was sacrificed to party malice, and. condemned to die for a crime of which a court martial acquitted him.

In Byng's engagement, Captain Gardiner commanded the Ramillies, the flag-ship, and became involved in the disgrace thrown upon his chief. He was afterwards appointed to the Monmouth, 64, (now, I believe, the sheer hulk at Deptford), and, in 1758, whilst in the Mediterranean under admiral Osborn, was employed in blocking up a French squadron in Carthagena. On the 28th of February they fell in with four French men-of-war, consisting of Le Foudroyant, 84, and 800 men ; with a 64, a 50, and a frigate that had got out from Toulon to reinforce the ships in Carthagena. The signal was made for a general chace, and the Monmouth being an excellent sailer was amongst the first up with the enemy. But, independent of performing his duty, Captain Gardiner had another and most powerful motive to urge

his exertions. The Foudroyant had carried the French admiral's flag on the very day that Byng engaged Galissoniere, and, smarting under the imputations that had been indirectly cast upon him, he was constantly heard to express an earnest desire to fall in with the Foudroyant, declaring his intention to attack her though he should perish in the struggle.

During the chace, Captain Gardiner's anxiety to get alongside this formidable opponent was extreme; an encounter seemed to offer a consoling balm—the Monmouth was fast gaining upon her colossal enemy. Nor was this gratification at all diminished when he found that he had far outsailed his own fleet, and should attack her single handed. Addressing a land officer who was on board with him, he said, “Whatever may become of you and me, that ship (pointing to the Foudroyant) must go into Gibraltar.”

At three o'clock in the afternoon he was rapidly drawing up with his old antagonist, and the hands were ordered on deck; he spoke to his people in the energetic language of a seaman, and emphatically told them, "That ship (the Foudroyant) must be taken ; she appears larger and above our match, but Englishmen will not mind that. I know you will all do your duty, nor will I quit her whilst the Monmouth can swim or I have a soul left alive to fire a gun.”

At four o'clock the Foudroyant opened her fire from the stern chasers, and soon afterwards the Monmouth got into action. Almost at the outset Captain Gardiner received a musket ball through his arm, but he took very

little notice of it, and continued to animate his men by exhortations and example. The unequal conflict was extremely desperate —the English prompted by the conduct of their brave commander, fought with a gallantry that has never been surpassed. After a contest of two hours the Monmouth's mizen-mast fell, at which the French gave three cheers, but their own mizen-mast falling shortly afterwards, the British returned the cheers with interest, which were renewed when in another half-hour the Foudroyant's main-mast came down. This infused fresh vigor into our brave tars, and their fire was so successful, and their guns so well pointed, that the French officers were unable to keep the people to their quarters. The battle had now raged four hours, when Captain Gardiner received a second ball in his foreheadhe immediately sent for his first lieutenant, Carkett, and solemnly conjured him as a dying request that, “he would not give the Monmouth up or quit the enemy." The promise was given and faithfully kept, for whilst the brave Gardiner sunk into insensibility, Mr. Carkett continued the battle with invinciable resolution till half-past twelve; when the enemy was a complete wreck, her fire almost silenced, and the Swiftsure and Hampton Court coming up, she struck her colours, but her commander refused to deliver up his sword, except to the officer with whom he had been actually engaged. Captain Gardiner expired a few hours afterwards.

The Foudroyant was one of the finest ships in the French service, she had thirty French forty-two pounders on her lower tier, thirty-two French twenty-four pounders on her maindeck, and eighteen twelve pounders on her quarter deck and forecastle, with a picked crew of eight-hundred men. The Monmouth carried twenty-four pounders on her lower deck, twelve pounders on her main deck, &c., and her whole complement was four hundred and seventy men. The former had nearly one hundred killed, and about the same number wounded: the Monmouth had twenty-eight killed, and seventy-nine wounded. This was certainly a most gallant action, and did great credit to all belonging to both ships, but particularly to the British; the French fought with determined bravery, but the prowess of English seamen gained the mastery. The Revenge, sister-ship to the Monmouth, engaged and took L'Orphée of sixty-four guns. The Oriflamme, fifty, was driven ashore and bilged, and the frigate escaped.

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Up, lads, and away! for the sport is begun,
And the woodland rings wild with the sound of the gun ;
The dogs rush delighted through stubble and fern,
And new coveys are rising wherever you turn.

Tally-ho! the glad huntsman is winding his horn,
As he bounds o'er the fields lately laden with corn ;
Though Reynard steals off through the copse and old hollow,
Yet Ringwood hath tracked him-huzza, lads ! let's follow.
Away, lads, the sun of his fierce beams is shorn,
And his eyelids are studded with dew in the morn;
The welkin is teeming with gladness and song,-
Then up and away, lads, to join the wild throng.

Who'd skulk in his bed, or abide in the town,
When his free steps may press the sweet heathery down?
Give me the wild breeze that blows fresh from the hill,
And your smoky old towns let 'em take them who will.

S. M.

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"Twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings, and to silence that,
Which to the spire and top of praises couch'd,
Would seem but modest."


A century ago, and the suburbs of the English metropolis presented


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