known and unfriended as they were, the children of the same cradle would have clung to each other with a warm and conriding regard, but in its place a strange mysterious reserve seemed to govern their mutual intercourse. A superficial observer might sometimes have believed them to be enemies; but there was nothing of the bitterness or the hypocrisy of hatred, either in their silence or their looks; and on one or two occasions, a burst of natural feeling was seen to break through the cold and gloomy exterior they had assumed.

These singularities of disposition were ascribed by their comrades to different causes; some attributed it to blighted love, others to the conflict of religious zeal with patriotic enthusiasm. By degrees as they pursued the dangers of war their confidence appeared to forsake them, their ardour became different from that instinctive impulse which prompts on young and fearless hearts to court danger for the very honour of opposing it; mistrust and suspicion usurped the place of fraternal affection; a cold reserve locked up in their bosoms every kindred sympathy; their noble emulation degenerated into a desperate and unnatural rivalship; even in the mad career of victory their enthusiasm seemed to bear some reference to the impenetrable thought which governed their destiny, and at length the fact became certain, from repeated observation, that the one only rushed into danger that the other might be forced, by some secret compact, to follow.

In one of the wildest solitudes of the Sierra Morena had the followers of Merida stationed themselves to harass the march of the French general. A desperate and bloody struggle was the result, and among those who most distinguished themselves in the fearful contest, were the Guerilla Brothers. One of them appeared to be the directing genius of the slaughter; wherever the fight was thickest, there was he foremost; at every cessation of actual struggle, his eyes were turned towards his brother, who, although severely wounded in the beginning of the engagement, was still seen sometimes by his side, but more frequently toiling after him in his furious career, vainly struggling to gain the place which the fierce and haughty glances of the other seemed to dare him to take. The signal for retreat had now sounded, and the Guerillas were suddenly beginning to separate, each taking a different route to their com mon rendezvous, thus melting away at once before the eyes of the baffled enemy, and eluding his grasp, just at the moment when fresh reinforcements from the

glen assured him of being able to anni. hilate their slender force at one blow.

The foremost Guerilla, still unwound. ed, relinquished his prey at the sound, and, dashing into the trees, begun to re-ascend the mountain, when the clash of arms induced him to turn out of his path-and the next moment he beheld his brother, pale, bleeding, and almost exhausted, sinking under the bayonet of a French soldier. Who can paint the contending feelings which at this moment burst upon his mind-the mingled feelings of love, friendship, hatred, hope, fear, pity-all things that can warm, or chill, or melt, or madden the human heart, were there present. A single blow could yet save him-but one bound, and his interposing arm would preserve the life of the son of his own mother-a single shout from his lips would scare away the slayer from his purpose.

It was but a moment-but one moment the next the living statue started from his trance of horror-the blade quivered in his grasp the blood rushed into his guilty face and he sprung with a shout to the rescue. It was too latethe blow had descended; the dying Spaniard turned his face towards his brother, and they exchanged one look---the last.

The Guerilla's eyes were still fixed on the lifeless body of his brother, when their comrades came to bury the dead, and it was by main force that the living was separated from the dead. He now held in his hand a miniature portrait, suspended by a richly wrought gold chain, which he had apparently taken from the neck of his brother, and which corresponded with one he himself wore, These relics appeared, even in his present state, to be objects of the most jealous care; among many incoherent words he muttered Guzman and Leonora, the former addressed to his brother, and the latter to some phantom of his fevered brain; but nothing transpired which at that time could lead to the knowledge of his family or story.

The distracted Guerilla was taken to one of the few remaining convents amongst the hills, which the footsteps of violation and sacrilege had not yet entered, where he received every attention from the pious inmates, which his case required; where many months elapsed before either his mind or body acquired sufficient strength to admit of his going once more into the scenes of the world. One day he was missed from the chapel of the convent, at the time he had devoted, ever since the return of his reason, to penitence and prayer. Another day passed, and he came not; another and another. It is

or six men out of the company. Among them there was one poor fellow, who received from that fire as horrible a wound as I recollect at any period to have seen. A round shot striking him in the shoulder, tore away the whole of the limb, and left his very lungs exposed to the view of the by-stander. The man was a bit of a favourite with his master. By birth a gipsy, he possessed not only to a high degree the qualities of conviviality and good humour, but he was acknowledged to be by far the most skilful maker of fires, and therefore one of the most useful individuals in the regiment. No rain, however heavy, hindered him from striking a light, and from a light once struck he never failed to produce a blaze. The loss of such a personage could not but be accply and universally lamented. It may not be amiss to add here, that in spite of the severity of his wound, the poor fellow lingered many days; he was even removed to the ship before he died. Might not the blowing out of a man's brains, under such circumstances, be not only justifiable, but praiseworthy?

Up to this moment, not a single musket had been discharged on either side, and the most perfect silence prevailed through out the ranks of both armies. The British soldiers moved forward with their accustomed fearlessness, and the Americans, with much apparent coolness, stood to receive them. Now, however, when little more than a hundred paces divided the one line from the other, both parties made ready to bring matters more decidedly to a personal struggle. The Ame ricans were the first to use their small arms. Having rent the air with a shout, they fired a volley, begun upon the right, and carried away regularly to the extreme left; and then, loading again, kept up an unintermitted discharge, which soon in a great degree concealed them from our observation. Nor were we backward in returning the salute. A hearty British cheer gave notice of our willingness to meet them; and firing and running, we gradually closed upon them, with the design of bringing the bayonet into play.

I hardly know what language to employ for the purpose of conveying to the mind of a reader who possesses no practical acquaintance with the subject, something like a clear idea of a battle, at that period in its progress at which we have now arrived. Volley upon volley having been given, we were now advanced within less than twenty yards of the American line; yet such was the denseness of the smoke, that it was only when a passing breeze swept away the cloud for a moment, that either force became visible to

the other. It was not, therefore, at men's persons that the fire of our soldiers was directed. The flashes of the enemy: muskets alone served as an object to aim at, as, without doubt, the flashes of our muskets alone guided the enemy. At last, however, the wind suddenly sprung up. The obscurity in which both parties had been enveloped was cleared away; and there, sure enough, stood our opponents, not, as they had stood an hour ago, in close and compact array, but confused by the murderous fire to which they had been exposed. Napoleon Bonaparte has affirmed, that he never witnessed any thing more terrific than the fire of a British line of infantry. The ex-emperor was perfectly correct. In the armies of other nations, particularly in those of America, many marksmen, more expert as individuals, may be found; but we may search the world over before we shall discover troops, who, as a body, take aim with the same coolness, reserve their fire so well, or, as a necessary consequence, pour it in with such tremendous effect as our own soldiers. Of this the Americans had to-day received the most appalling proofs; numbers lay dead among the feet of their comrades; numbers more had retired maimed or wounded; and those who still kept the field were broken and confused. One thing alone was required to complete the rout. Our gallant fellows, uttering a hearty cheer, threw in their last volley, and then rushed forward with the bayonet; but a shock, which the flower of European armies had never been able to withstand, the Americans ventured not to receive. They lost in a moment all order, and fled, as every man best could, from the field.

There was but one road along which horses or carriages could move, and it became crowded to excess in a moment. Whilst the infantry, dashing into the forest, thought to conceal themselves among its mazes, the cavalry, of which a few squadrons had been drawn up upon their right, scampered off by the main road, and was immediately followed by guns, tumbrils, ammunition-wagons, and the whole materiel of the army. To arrest the progress of all, or some part of that force, became now our great object. "Hurrah for the guns!" was a word of command first uttered by Colonel Brooke; it was repeated, with loud laughter and tumultuous outcries, from one rank to another; and desperate and unintermitting were the efforts which we made to overtake and cut off such as were hindmost. But unhappily the absence of even the mounted troopers told sorely against us to-day. The truth of it is, the American

ordnance, drawn by fleet horses, readily escaped. And out of the whole party, only two guns, and one tumbril alone, fell into our hands. Of prisoners, however, we were fortunate enough to secure a few. The fourth regiment, which had made a detour for the purpose of turning the enemy's left, though it arrived not in time to take much share in the action, succeeded in cutting off about half of a battalion from the high road; and this body, driven back upon its pursuers, saved itself from annihilation by laying down its arms.

Thus ended the affair of the 12th of September, after about an hour and a half of pretty severe fighting. On our part, the loss sustained could not exceed two hundred men in all; on the part of the Americans, at least double that number had fallen. The dead, indeed, lay in clusters far more frequent, and far more numerous, than any where I at least discovered on the field of Bladensburg; and as the proportion between the killed and wounded in an army is usually as five to one, it was easy to collect that the whole amount of persons rendered hors-de-combat must have been very considerable. Yet there was not amongst us one man who did not feel that the victory had been purchased at a terrible price, it had cost the life of our general, and in so doing, had crippled all our resources.

The day being now considerably advanced, and the troops somewhat fatigued by their exertions, our new leader determined to halt for that night on the field which he had won. With this view, the bugles were directed to sound the recall; whilst the quarter-master general proceeded to fix upon a proper spot for the bivouac, and to station the out-posts. Nor were the medical attendants of the army unmindful of their important charge. There chanced to be, in the line of the late operations, two houses of some size; these were of course occupied, and the smaller and more incommodious being selected as head-quarters, the larger and better was devoted to the accommodation of the wounded. Thither all who had

not been already dressed upon the field and sent back to the boats were conveyed; nor was the smallest distinction made between the Americans and the English. To say the truth, however, they were but indifferently provided for. The owners having removed every piece of furniture out of the house, the poor soldiers could only be huddled together on the floors of the different apartments; and as our medical officers were few in number, the delay in paying attention to their wounds was in some cases very great. Yet few,

either of the English or the Americans, complained. A groan or a shriek would, indeed, occasionally strike upon the ear of the by-stander; and even a querulous exclamation, as the moving of another's leg or arm happened to bring it into contact with some unfortunate man's broken limb. But there were no murmurs; no whinings because one or other was not immediately looked to. On the contrary, the instances were not rare in which one wounded man would entreat the surgeon to pass him by for the present, that the wound of another more seriously hurt might be dressed in the first place. It is a great mistake to imagine that war renders men necessarily selfish. In such campaigns as that of the French in Russia, where suffering may be said to have reached its height, the better feelings of human nature become, without doubt, entirely blunted; but in ordinary cases, the inquirer will find as much of real generosity and noble-mindedness among soldiers in the field, as among any class of human society.

The troops being checked, not without some difficulty, in the midst of their ardour, the different regiments collected round their colours, and formed into close column. Fires were then, as usual, lighted; and there, but a short space remove from the bodies of the slain, we prepared to pass the night.

The Selector,

AND

LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

CAPTAIN PARRY'S EXPEDITION.

To

THE following smart and piquant bit of
pleasantry, on the probable result of the
expedition to the North Pole, is taken
from May Fair,-a clever, satirical poem
which has just made its appearance.
adopt the language of a contemporary,
our readers, from the specimen now af-
forded, may form a fair judgment on the
general merits of the work.

"He takes five hundred pecks of coals !"—
"No doubt he'll liquefy the poles !"—
"He's ballasted with flying sledges,”—
"The saints preserve the Arctic hedges !"-
"Some gallons of Sir Humphrey's acid,”—
"Just half a pint makes Ocean placid;"—
"A liquid, with a Bramah stopper,
For raising-Brushwood upon copper."-
"A set of patent music-boxes
To lure the buffaloes and foxes;
French watches for the Polar frows,
The new steam-acting Perkins' ploughs;