self-produced out of nothing-inwardly disturbed a moment, then slowly spreading and sailing away with the light air. If you looked below perhaps your eye might just catch a few sporadic splashes far away on the water, as if some one had dashed a handful of gravel inthe shell had burst high up in air, far away and futile, and the iron fragments, like poor Vulcan cast out by the heel from the courts above, come tumbling headlong into the water; unluckily some of our gun-boats were circling away just there, so that it was a great chance they did not suffer more from friend than enemy. This repeated failure seemed to afford to the perplexed and exasperated commandant of the vessel in question matter for a lively display of wrath, of which the hapless serjeant got the chief benefit, as it did to us of amusement to watch the conscious bepuzzlement on board at the phenomenon. However, French or English, or both, the night practice with shells was undeniably excellent, and easily observed.

But it is time to return to the boats, now distinctly visible in the strange purple glare of their own daylight; dark forms of men and boats and gear, showing salamanderlike in the midst of sheets of flashing dazzling brightness, or whole trains of showery scintillations, as every rocket rose from the water's edge with a sudden rush, a hot, soughing, sighing sound, gradually increasing to a scream as it flew lighting all around; but the batteries took no advantage of the mark. Certainly at first a rocket is a most disagreeable neighbour in spite of his splendid brilliancy; besides that you know well that he has a capricious erratic disposition, and may be like Pyrrhus's elephants of old, if out of sorts, worse to friend than to foe, all his peculiarities are so strongly impressed on you when in a boat with him; the momentary dazzling glare, the back-fire spurting out close to your side in a sudden furious jet of blue flame, and casting up volumes of steam around you from contact with the water alongside; the semi-scorching moment as the sheet of light flashes past, making you for the nonce a literal fire-eater in spite of yourself, and,

what with serious doubts as to the contingent remainders of your eyelashes, hair, and whiskers, inspiring you with a soupçon of a notion that you are in a mess rather in being where you are-all these are lively but unlooked-for realities; but you get over them in a minute, and forget yourself in aiding to adjust the pole of the next rocket, or watching proceedings around, and in the general animation. On a sudden we were startled by a flash different from the others in the boat next but one, about a hundred yards off, and the cry 'Down in the boats all,' 'overboard men!' A rocket had got foul in the tube, in the Vulture's boat; not getting clear, it set fire to the fore part of the boat, scorching some of the men, the whole being for a short time a sheet of flame. It was a curious sight to look out and see the bending forms in all the boats near, level with the gunwale (a precaution adopted in case the missile should fly along the line, scattering destruction where it went), while the crew of the boat seek a perilous safety in the water; but other boats instantly closed up, and beyond the wetting and scorching of some poor fellows and the damage to the boat, providentially no hurt was done. Still these accidents are sometimes of a most desperate and deadly nature. Such as the rocket is, every precaution is taken to prevent fire. The tube is carefully slung clear of the gunwale, that the back-fire may strike the water; it would burn the boat's bottom out else. The rockets are in cases of six, very strongly secured, so that many at a time cannot be exposed; and as each one is taken out the case is made fast, and stowed away under wet bullock hides: no ammunition is carried in the boat; in fact there is, and need be, great care. But it seems that the rocket itself might be improved, both in certainty of range and manageability, and made less precarious. No pains should be spared to secure the greatest possible accuracy to these tremendous missiles, so valuable in warfare from their destructiveness; at present the practice appears to want precision, though it must be owned the circumstances under which it is

and then relieved by a second. This time the enemy fired most spitefully as soon as ever the opening fire of the boats showed their position. The second division was delayed much in going in, and moreover permitted to drop too far to leeward, a very perceptible breeze blowing across the front. This, which might have been avoided, had the effect of bringing them very near the batteries on the Helsingfors shore and Stora Rentan, who soon showed their readiness. The rushing sound of rockets speedily mixed with the whirr of red-hot shot and the screaming of shell. Prepared by the event of the night before, everyone was on the qui vive, for a rocket going wrong-nay, the first fiery fizzing thing that came flashing along the line over the heads of the men, in our simplicity we took to be a rocket got into the wrong groove,' and coming where it had no business. It was, however, an angry Russian missile, hotly and noisily discharging its own proper duty, the herald of many more such; on it passed, a sort of angry demon abroad, but vainly sped, and plumped into the water a few yards off, splashing the commander of the division in his gig, in lame and impotent conclusion.

The time lost in getting into a more advantageous position (where, however, we were instantly saluted with a cross fire, sharp, and welldirected, which probably in a few minutes would have caused some damage), and the completely visible position of the boats as morning was breaking, led to the order, 'Cease firing-return on board,' which was probably more wise than acceptable to the ardent minds of most of the men who obeyed it; and so we returned, having expended but few rockets, to the respective ships. This terminated the active proceedings of the bombardment. Two days longer the squadron remained in presence, but it was soon apparent that the work was over. The great armament which impos. ingly commands the Baltic had dealt a side-blow, a kind of backhanded smack; the question of its real weight and strength as yet unopened, a res integra, reserved for

was

other days and circumstances. As a mere episode in the tranquil life of the heavy ships, this operation was an increase of prestige. The fleet had in the fulness and repose of strength, flung off this sampler or handsel of its power, slumbering else: to have gathered there and looked on, must have impaired its name. Considering the character of the enemy, unyielding but unventuring, perhaps the best counsel had been taken : what done had been well done, and well arranged beforehand; a great artillery experiment had succeeded admirably; the people, men and officers, strung to a high pitch of excitement, had exerted themselves even to absolute exhaustion : indeed, what some had gone through was almost marvellous, especially in the mortar-vessels; and the effects were sometimes rather whimsical, in the deafness and speechlessness that ensued. The mortars were disabled, most of them cracked, some actually having split in twain, as you might split a nut; yet the very rim was at least ten inches thick of solid metal; a hollow cylinder of ten inches thick, measuring thirteen inches across the inside, slit in twain, and the pieces, each weighing some tons, tossed yards apart; but some of these massive balista' of modern warfare had fired upwards of fifty shell, each weighing 210 pounds, with a charge of twenty pounds of powder, in the first hourand-a-half!

Here we leave the tale. This is no place to discuss questions of professional or belligerent rights; but there was enough in the service that had been performed, looked on as the guerilla part, the long-armed, almost off-handed surplusage of naval war, to give good omen for the performance of more clinching, severe, and decisive measures, as soon as policy shall inaugurate them; perhaps, too, to show their necessity. Well is it that we are buckling on our armour, and learning our deficiencies; what was done, and what was left undone, both are rife with instruction and with promise, should the evil days of war continue. T. F.

1856.]

63

KATE,' said Aunt Deborah to

me, as we sat with our feet on the fender one rainy afternoon,—or, as we were in London, I should say one rainy morning,-in June, I think altogether, considering the weather and what not, it would be as well for you to give up this Ascot expedition, my dear.'

I own I felt more than half-in. clined to cry-most girls would have cried,-but Aunt Deborah says I am very unlike the generality of women, and so, although I had ordered a peach-coloured mantle, and such a bonnet as can only be seen at Ascot on the Cup Day, I kept back my tears, and swallowed that horrid choking feeling in my throat, whilst I replied with the most careless manner I could assume, 'Goodness, aunt, it wont rain for ever: not that I care; but think what a disappointment for John!'

I must here be allowed the privilege of my sex, to enter on a slightly discursive explanation as to who Aunt Deborah is, and who I am, not forgetting cousin John, who is good-nature itself, and without whom I cannot do the least bit. My earliest recollections of Aunt Deborah, then, date from a period when I was a curly-headed little thing in a white frock (not so very long ago, after all), and the first occasion on which I can recollect her personality with any distinctness was on a certain birthday, when poor grandfather said to me in his funny way, 'Kate, you romp! we must get you a rocking-horse.' Aunt Deborah lifted up her hands and eyes in holy horror and deprecation. A rockinghorse, Mr. Coventry,' said she;

habits of our youth have become the second nature of our maturity.' Imagine such sentiments so expressed by a tall, austere lady, with high manly features, piercing dark eyes, a front of jet-black hair coming low down on a somewhat furrowed brow. Cousin John says all dark women are inclined to be cross, and I own I think we blondes have the best of it as far as good temper is concerned. My aunt is not altered in the slightest degree from what she was then. She dresses invariably in grey silks of the most delicate shades and texture; carries spectacles low down upon her nose, where they can be of no earthly use except for inspection of the carpet; and wears lavender kid gloves at all hours of the day and night,-for Aunt Deborah is vain of her hand, and preserves its whiteness as a mark of her birth and parentage. Most families have a crotchet of some sort on which they plume themselves; some will boast that their scions rejoice one and all in long noses; others esteem the attenuated frames which they bequeathed to their descendants as the most precious of legacies; one would not part with his family squint for the finest pair of eyes that ever adorned an Andalusian maiden; another cherishes his hereditary gout as a priceless patent of nobility; and even insanity is prized in proportion to the tenacity with which it clings to a particular race. So the Horsinghams never cease talking of the Horsingham hand; and if I want to get anything out of Aunt Deborah, I have only to lend her a pair of my gloves, and apologize to her for their being so large that she can get both her hands into one.

Now, the only thing we ever fall out about is what my aunt calls propriety. I had a French gover ness once who left because I pinned the tail of Cousin John's kite to her

E

skirt, and put white mice in her work-box, and she was always lecturing me about what she called 'les convenances.' Aunt Deborah don't speak much French, though she says she understands it perfectly, and she never lets me alone about propriety. When I came home from church that rainy Sunday, with Colonel Bingham, under his umbrella (a cotton one), Aunt Deborah lectured me on the impropriety of such a thing-though the Colonel is forty if he is a day, and told me repeatedly he was a 'safe old gentleman,'-I didn't think him at all dangerous, I'm sure. rode a race against Bob Dashwood the other morning, once round the inner ring, down Rotten Row, to finish in front of Apsley House, and beat him all to ribbons-wasn't it fun? and didn't I kick the dirt in his face; he looked like a wall that's been fresh plastered, when he pulled up. I don't know who told Aunt Deborah. It wasn't the coach

I

man, for he said he wouldn't; but she heard of it somehow, and of course she said it was improper and unladylike, and even unfeminine, as if anything a woman does can be unfeminine. I know Bob didn't think so, though he got the worst of it every way.

To be sure, we women are sadly kept down in this world, whatever we shall be in the next. If they would only let us try, I think we could beat the lords of the creation,' as they call themselves, at everything they undertake. Dear me, they talk about our weakness and vanity;-why, they never know their own minds for two minutes together, and as for vanity, only tell a man you think him good-looking, and he falls in love with you directly; or if that is too great a bounce and indeed very few of them have the slightest pretensions to beauty-you need only hint that he rides gallantly, or waltzes nicely, or wears neat boots, and it will do quite as well. I recollect perfectly that cousin Emily made her great marriage-five thousand a year and the chance of a baronetcy-by telling her partner in a quadrille, quite innocently, that She should know his figure anywhere.' The man had a hump, and one leg shorter

than the other, but he thought Emily was dying for him, and proposed within a fortnight. Emily is an artless creature -'good common sense,' Aunt Deborah calls it,and so she threw over Harry Bloomfield, and married the hump and the legs that didn't match, and the chance of the baronetcy forthwith ; and now they say he beats her, and I think it serves her right.

But we women-gracious! if we only take the trouble, we can turn the whole male sex round our little fingers. Who ever saw half a dozen of us hovering and watching and fussing round a masculine biped, thankful even to be snubbed rather than not noticed at all? Who ever saw us fetch and carry like so many retrievers, and sit up," so to speak, for a withered rose-bud, at the fag end of an overblown bouquet. Not that we don't love flowers in their proper places, and keep them too, sometimes long after their colour has faded and their perfume gone, but we don't make a parade of such things, and have the grace to be ashamed of ourselves when we are so foolish.

But it's quite different with men. They give in to us about everything if we only insist-and it's our own fault if we don't insist, for of course if they find us complying and ready to oblige, why there's no end to their audacity. Give 'em an inch, and they take an ell.' However, they do try to keep us down as much as they can. Now there's that very exercise of riding that they are so proud of. They get us a side-saddle, as they call it, of enor mous weight and inconvenience, on which they plant pommels enough to impale three women; they place us in an attitude from which it is next to impossible to control a horse should he be violent, and in a dress which ensures a horrible accident should he fall, added to which they constantly give us the worst quadru ped in the stable; and yet, with all these drawbacks, such is our own innate talent and capacity, we ride many an impetuous steed in safety and comfort that a man would find a dangerous and incontrollable mount." For my part I only wish I had been born a man-that's to say, if I could keep my own ideas and feelings.