"I would have made a lovely life for thee, but all in
vain;
And still I feel —a spirit now—the stirrings of thy
pain:
I am the only grief of thine shall ever come again.

"Thy late-born woes have followed me , but all their
tears lie shed:
The grace of Heaven their sobbing stills; and to a
restful bed
One after other forth they go with a most silent
tread."

The gentle spirit turned and stole with noiseless foot
away:
A sudden sunbeam cleaved the sky with a quick
upward ray;
The shadows passed from earth and heart, and once
more it was day.

So now amid the deepening glooms I sit and muse no
more,
But set the captive sorrow free, and, throwing wide
life's door,
See it tread the quiet footsteps of the sorrows gone
before.

OLD STORIES RE-TOLD.

THE GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE.

IN 1793, England declared war against the
French Republic, and on the 14th of July,
Lord Howe, only twelve months before
appointed Vice-Admiral of England on the death
of Lord Rodney, set sail from St. Helen's with
twenty-three sail of the line, in two divisions.
The old admiral's orders were to prevent the
junction of the fleets of Brest with those of
L'Orient and Rochefort, and to intercept, if
possible, either the Jamaica, Lisbon, or American
convoys.

Lord Howe, generally known to his sailors
by the nickname of " Black Dick," from his dark
complexion, and also from a sooty foreign
mezzotint of himself that hung in his state cabin, had
seen much service. He had begun life under
Anson; he had distinguished himself in the West
Indies; at the disastrous affair at Quiberon Bay
he had fought like one of Homer's heroes to cover
the retreating troops; he had helped to raise the
siege of Gibraltar, when Elliot had long held
the rock against enormous odds; he had all but
destroyed Cherbourg; lastly, he had done brave
duty in America, and finally returned home to
serve his country, under Pitt, as one of the most
conscientious First Lords ever known. Worn by
long vigils and fatigue of brain and sinew,
buffeted by the storms of many oceans, an
old man of sixty-nine, gouty and longing
for the quiet of home, Lord Howe was still
the old sea lion, determined to do his duty,
eager to fight, and resolved to beat. From
the middle of July to the end of December,
Lord Howe remained at sea, tormented by
constant gales, which crippled his half worn-out
ships, and only relieved by an occasional
glimpse of the enemy. Time after time, to the
old warrior's infinite mortification, he had to
put back into Torbay to refit his disabled
vessels. He was strongly opposed to the system
of blockade in all weathers, considering it left
the blockading ships in a debilitated condition
to resist the enemy's fleet fresh from its long
holiday; he thought it disheartening to the men
and costly to the nation. The English people
are as impatient of suspense, as the Romans
were of the cautious policy of Fabius. The
merchants were satisfied so the French privateers
were sealed up in port, and their own convoys
could pass up and down the Channel; but the
mob wanted a heavy blow struck. They
complained that Howe was getting old and timid;
they sneered at the perpetual returns to port.
The wits grew cruel in their desire to appear
clever. The favourite joke was that Caesar's great
despatch was contained in three words—"Veni,
vidi, vici," but that of Howe's might be written
in one—" Vidi"—which was heartless enough;
but Mr. Pitt, inflexible, with that arrogant nose
of his sniffing the air, would listen to no
complaints against the old sailor. He knew his
man. The truth was, Howe did not want to
bar the Frenchman's door; he wanted him, on
the contrary, to come out, so that he might
smash him. His scout frigates could report
the slightest movement at Brest or Rochefort;
he would then slip the leashes of his hounds,
and dash from Torbay upon the foe. Still the
vulgar cry was that Howe was worn out, and
that the shelf was a better place for him now
than the seaman's berth. The opposition
newspapers, eager for Fox and Lord North, were all
for putting Howe among the yellow
(superannuated) admirals.

On May 2, 1794, Lord Howe left St. Helen's,
and put to sea with twenty-two sail of the line
and six frigates; his two vice-admirals being
Hood and Graves; his rear-admirals, Pasley,
Caldwell, Bowyer, and Gardner. At the Lizard,
Howe despatched Rear-Admiral Montague with
a detached squadron (not included in the above
number) of six ships of the line and four frigates
to attend the convoys, in the parallel of Cape
Finisterre. Howe's main fleet then pushed on
for Ushant.

On the deck of the Charlotte, watching the
minutest manoeuvre of the vessels, marking even
a neglected rope or an ill-cut sail, was constantly
seen the tall, dark, stern, hard-featured old
admiral, who seemed so shy and cold and severe
and reserved to those who did not know his real
warmth of heart and his kind and benevolent
disposition. The foxes soon began to show,
and the scent ran high. The stars were in
favourable conjunction for England. Three
French frigates were first seen lurking about the
western entrance of Brest. Every eye was soon
on the alert, from the admiral's to the smallest
powder-monkey's, eager as fox-hunters for the
thrilling cry of " Stole away." Three
reconnoitring frigates came back to the hero in the
evening, and reported that one French ship of the
line, two frigates, and two brigs, had been seen
at anchor in Cameret Bay, and that twenty-
two large vessels were huddled together
inside the Goulet. The weather continued