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was along the banks of the Nile. They proceeded about ten miles a day, suffering much, as well from the heat as dews. Berelos and Damietta, upon the coast, were abandoned by the French; and progressively the whole country conquered, and Egypt (and therein India), delivered from French possession and invasion.

Poetical Essays on Military Subjects.

THE following Stanzas, in honour of the Marquis of Wellington, are from the pen of Robert Henry Jackson, a youth of fourteen. Considering the age of the author, we conceive him entitled to our warm approbation, and we would not wish to check his rising genius by any remarks which might be otherwise than agreeable to his wishes they are certainly highly meritorious as the productions of a youth of fourteen, and give us reason to expect something more brilliant when his judgment shall have been matured.

THE storm that o'er the ocean blows

But lifts it nearer to the skies,---
Thus every charge of Britain's foes
Bids WELLINGTON in glory rise.

'Mid India's wars the vigorous shoot
Its never-fading foliage spread,
An honour to its noble root,

A laurel to Britannia's head.

For none can clain such high renown
As he who lifted from the dust
His Country's standard, drooping down,
And wip'd away her weapon's rust.

Her former chiefs were as the gleams
That on the winter morning rise;---
WELLESLEY the dazzling sun that beams
In favoring spring's unclouded skies.

When Timur's son invok'd his aid,

On Friendship's wings how swift he flew !
Whilst Victory in his pathway play'd,
And fleeting Fame in bondage drew.

On Assaye's plains the vanquish'd crowds
Of Scindiah from the war were driv'n ;---

So sable hosts of darkening clouds

Fly the resistless gales of heav'n.

Firm on Gawilghur's bulwark'd height

Berar's proud Rajah mock'd his power,--But WELLESLEY ever finds delight

In arduous task and dangerous houf.

The thunder strikes the lofty pine

Ere on the lowly shrub it falls,-

So Britain's honor'd banners shine
On high Gawilghur's heav'n-topp'd walls.

When by the proud Abrantes led,
The Gallic legions took the field,
On Lisboa's summits, heaped with dead,
The prostrate foe was taught to yield.

As rushing from the cliffs afar

The torrent breaks upon the rock, So Gallia pour'd her tide of war--

So WELLESLEY, firm, receiv'd the shock.

In Duero's memorable fight,

On Talavera's purple plain,

Brave WELLESLEY led Britannia's might,
And rear'd her ensigns o'er the slain.

Pursuing Victory's red career,
In Lusitania's war he shone,
A blazing meteor, spreading fear
Where'er his fiery track was known.

But when his lightning-glance survey'd
On Tormes' banks Gaul's giant force,
In gorgeous pomp of war array'd

He sprung, and slaughter mark'd his course.

Thus, perch'd upon some Cambrian height,
Her destined prey the eagle views,

On rapid pinion wings her flight,

And dealing death, the flock pursues.

The wreaths that bloom'd upon his crest
On Salamanca's brilliant day,
Unnumber'd voices shall attest,

And muse, in triumph, at the fray.

Then Marmont's powers, with rapid stride
Before his mighty prowess fled,

And many a sanguinary tide

Stream'd from the mountains of the dead.

Those Eagle-standards, lo! are furl'd,

Which erst, in Gallia's brighter day,

Had spread their wings o'er half the world,
And shaded regions with dismay.

Each echoing mount that lifts his brow

Upon Iberia's grateful land,---
The murmuring streams that wind below---
Shall own the wonders of his hand.

When envious death's cold grasp shall seize
The HERO Britain's sons revere,

His triumphs sailing on the breeze,
Spain shall adore, and France shall fear.

Renown's fair circlet shall adorn

The monument that marks his tomb;
And Glory, beaming on his urn,
Chase far away oblivion's gloom.

Nay, when Creation's mighty frame
Shall be to pristine chaos hurl'd,
Then WELLINGTON's illustrious name

Shall echo through the falling world!

LET RUSSIA's TRIUMPH ROUSE THE WORLD TO ARMS!

ADDRESSED TO

THE NATIONS GROANING UNDER BUONAPARTE's YOKE!

WRITTEN BY WILLIAM THOS. FITZGERALD, ESQ.

THE love of country glowing in the mind,

Adorns the story of the Russian hind.

Without one murmur, to the flames he yields
His home, and all the produce of his fields!
That when th' invading foe arriv'd-he found
Nor food nor shelter on the wasted ground.
Then see the blood-stain'd Corsican advance,
With all the strength of half exhausted France;
With vassal nations mingled in his train---

Slaves from the Tiber! bondsmen from the Maine!
Who, dragg'd to fight in quarrels not their own
Extend that thraldom under which they groan.
Ambition to subdue the human race,
Made him o'erlook the prospect of disgrace;
But soon he saw the end of fortune's tide,
For heav'n resolv'd to crush the Tyrant's pride!
Towns wrapt in flames are beacons of alarms,
And the whole Russian nation fly to arms!
In various battles heaten, foil'd in all,
When frenzy urg'd him on to Moscow's wall,
Where vainly he had hoped to blast the fame,
And blot from Europe's annals Russia's name.
What did the baffled Tyrant meet with there?
But burning ruins! famine! and despair!

The elements against his crimes conspire,
And prove as fatal as both sword and fire!
Compell'd to seek for safety in retreat,
His armies suffer, every day defeat!

Death-struck and bleach'd by life-consuming frost,
He sees his wretched legions hourly lost!
And he who kept the trembling world in dread,
Can find no corner to conceal his head:
Shame and confusion hang upon his rear
Where death rides dreadful on the Cossack spear!
From Russian wilds a voice tremendous cries---
Europe, awake! and from your trance arise!
Rise! with the strength of congregated waves,
Erect your heads! and be no longer slaves!
Endure no more the odious Gallic chain,
Rise in a mass! and be yourselves again!
The great example follow that you see,
Burst your vile bonds, and set your children free!
And be this truth convey'd to future times,
Nations are only vanquish'd by their crimes.
If true themselves, th' invader must retire,
Pursued at last, by famine, sword, and fire!
* Britannia points--and mark the glorious view!
Her spear to France, her olive-branch to you :
Fight but your battle, and she bids you know,
Her virtuous monarch is no more your foe!
Nations arise! and in your vengeance just,
Reduce your vile oppressor into dust!
Chase from the earth his base detested race,

And end the history of your own disgrace!

Then shall the groaning world, from bondage free,
Taste all the sweets of Peace and Liberty!

December 22, 1812.

CAMPAIGNS IN THE PENINSULA.
[Continued from Vol. I. page 636.]

THE despondency of Sir John Moore and the disastrous events which it occasioned, were far from extinguishing the spirit of patriotism in the Peninsula.-At the very time when the Spaniards had sustained the heaviest losses, and Sir John Moore's army was known to be in full retreat, a treaty was signed at London between Great-Britain and the Spanish nation acting in the name of Ferdinand. It proclaimed, in the name of the Most Holy and Undivided ́

The ten concluding lines are quoted from the Author's Address to the Literary Fund for 1809.

Trinity, a Christian, stable, and inviolable peace between the two countries; a perpetual and sincere amity; and a strict alliance during the war with France: and it pronounced an entire and lasting oblivion of all acts of hostility done on either side during the course of the late wars in which they had been engaged against each other. His Britannic Majesty engaged to continue to assist the Spanish nation in their struggle to the utmost of his power, and promised not to acknowledge any other King of Spain, and of the Indies thereunto appertaining, than Ferdinand VII. his heirs, or such lawful successor as the Spanish nation should acknowledge; and the Spanish government engaged, on the behalf of Ferdinand, never, in any case, to cede to France any portion of the territories or possessions of the Spanish monarchy in any part of the world.-The contracting parties bound themselves to make common cause against France, and not to make peace except by common consent. It was agreed by an additional article, that as the existing circumstances did not admit of the regular negociation of a treaty of commerce with all the care and consideration due to so important a subject, such a negociation should be effected as soon as it was practicable; and meantime mutual facilities should be afforded to the commerce of the subjects of both countries, by temporary regulations founded on principles of reciprocal utility. Another separate article provided that the Spanish government should take the most effectual measures for preventing the Spanish squadrons in all their ports from falling into the power of France.

When the army of Sir John Moore began its march for Spain, 14,000 English troops were left at Lisbon.-Some regiments had afterwards advanced to the frontiers, to be near the Commander-inChief if he should require to be reinforced, or find it expedient to fall back upon them. They learning that he had retreated by a different route, and that superior forces were hastening against them, returned by forced marches to the capital.-Every thing was in confusion there.-One day the cavalry was embarked, the next it was re-landed.-The sea-batteries were all dismantled, and their guns shipped to be sent to Brazil: those at Fort St. Julien alone were left mounted, as a defencible post, if our troops should be forced to embark precipitately.-The women belonging to the army were sent on board.-These preparations were far from satisfactory to the populace; they resented the intended abandonment by every means in their power.

About this time the French "army of Portugal" was again upon

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