companion of my own age, who lived with his mother, near to us; not a vulgar lad, but one that was gentle and pleasing. Every day we strolled through overgrown lanes, searching hedge-bottoms for wild flowers; sometimes we rambled as far as Rothley Plain, to procure rushes, of which we made grenadier caps and baskets. The troops of rabbits which we disturbed there greatly surprised me, as they scampered to their hiding-places; I thought I should like to catch some of them to take home with me, and feed them on sowthistles. It was a great achievement to stroll as far as Button Wood. Here we gathered bilberries, a delicious fruit, and uprooted a tall straight hazel from its mossy bed, but a higher prize was a peculiar knotted switch; when stripped of its bark, it turned of a blood colour, and was a walking-stick fit for a gentleman. Such treasures were carried to bed with us, and gladdened our eyes on waking. Through the village there ran a merry brook, fed by the rocky streams of Charnwood forest. After a sultry day, with what pleasure did we boys repair to its sedgy banks, strip under the alder trees, and gambol in the water. Here I learnt to swim; the water being just the depth to make us buoyant; so that with a few steady strokes this important art was gained. This spot was a favourite haunt for fishermen; but I had no taste for the sport of pious old Isaac Walton, who tells us how lovingly he stuck the writhing worm upon the barbed hook. However, I was persuaded by two of Mr.

Scampton's men to go with them and see the preparations made for a fishing party the next day. This was by baiting the brook with grains, to lure the fish into certain spots, so that voracious man might pounce upon them while enjoying a feast. At the end of the village was a bridge leading to the Temple meadows : it was nothing more than a single plank, raised very high, with a hand-rail to steady you in crossing. As these two heroes were idly leaning against the rail, full of the thoughts of to-morrow's sport, it snapped, and head and heels they fell backwards into the water. I was delighted! One of them, who had lost a limb in the wars, when topsy-turvy, cocked his wooden leg up to the stars, and I thought I should have died with laughing at the figure he cut. The water was deep enough to give them a good sousing, and to save them from hurt in the fall. We went home much tamer than we set out. With what glee did I mount the harvest waggon for the fun of jolting over the rugged roads, to the wheat field. From shock to shock it slowly moved to gather the rustling sheaves. In the rear of the reapers were a flock of gleaners—some pretty village girls, for one of whom I would have pilfered some ears to enrich her store, had I dared to do so. The day's toil over, we hastened home for the harvest supper. At the head of the board sat the worthy host, by whose side I was placed. Then came Will, Ralph, Joc, and Jim, with their wives and helpers. Presently a shoulder of mutton, scorching hot, as the

day had been, a plum pudding, and a roasted goose were put on the table, when they soon fell to, each playing his part in good earnest. Among the guests was a Rothley lass, who had come from the squire's house, in town, to see her family and friends. She was so smartened up as to appear like a lady among these clowns; their awkward manner put her to the blush, and she would scarcely own her former friends. The gingered ale went merrily round. Joe, who was a good singer, was called upon to entertain the company. Seeing them tippling a little too fast, he admonished them in the following song:

SONG.

Beware of swallowing too much ale;

The more you drink,

The worse you think ;

Perchance your health and purse will fail :
Beware of swallowing too much ale.

The jokes growing coarser as it grew late, I was taken to bed from a scene not to be imitated; but which was permitted to intrude upon the simple manners of a country life. Perhaps there is no period in which we enjoy these rural pleasures so much as in the time of our youth.

1781. The American war had been raging for six years, and was unexpectedly put an end to by the surrender of York town. The attack was made with such consummate skill by Washington, that Lord Cornwallis owned that his army were completely surrounded, and obliged to lay down their arms. The news, on its arrival in England, would have destroyed the ministry, had not the news of our glorious naval victories arrived at the same moment.

Rodney met with the French fleet, near to the island of Guadaloupe. He took and destroyed nearly all the large ships, with the famous Admiral Count de Grasse on board. Such rejoicings ran through the land, that we forgot our American disasters, and the old town of Leicester was foremost in the national triumph. A general illumination took place, and there was not a dirty lane or alley that did not join in the universal blaze. As the weather was beautiful, the streets were crowded with well-dressed spectators, viewing the transparent pictures and brilliant devices through the greatest part of the night. For a time our victories by sea silenced all political bickerings, every one partaking of the national glory. Mortified

as the French were, they ran their shattered ships into port, hastily repaired them, and, in little more than three months, in order to be revenged, planned, with the Spaniards, the siege of Gibraltar. The preparations were upon a scale so immense, that not the least doubt was entertained, though the most impregnable fortress in the world, that this key of the Mediterranean would be wrested from us, after having kept it for 146 years. General Elliot beheld the combined fleets of France and Spain, with hundreds of battering ships, drawn up in front of the fortress. The surrounding hills were covered with Spaniards to witness the attack. The bombardment began on all sides about nine o'clock in the morning. One who witnessed the sight, says, all description would fail in attempting to convey adequate ideas of the scene. The very actors could have had only an indistinct conception of what was passing. No imagination could conceive any thing more terrible. But it was during the night that the most awful work began. The commander of the garrison constructed a number of furnaces, by which he made his cannon balls red hot, and threw them into the forest of ships that lay before him. I well remember it was said the assailants, in their consternation, covered the roofs of their gun-boats with raw hides, thinking that the red hot shot would slide off into the sea. Seven of the largest ships were soon in flames, the light of which enabled Elliot to direct his fire with unerring precision. When they were