friend Horace transporting me in his yacht to Southampton Water. Reader, if I should appear somewhat prolix in my descriptions, take a tour yourself to the island, visit the delightful scenery with which it abounds, participate in the aquatic excursions of the place, and meet, as I have done, with social friends, and kind hearts, and lovely forms, and your own delightful feelings will be my excuse for extending my notice somewhat beyond my usual sketchy style.

FAREWELL TO VECTIS.

Blest isle, fare thee well! land of pleasure and peace, May the beaux and the belles on thy shores still increase:

How oft shall my spirit, by absence opprest,

Revisit thy scenes, and in fancy be blest,

In the magic of slumber still sport on thy wave,
And dream of delights that I waken to crave.
Farewell, merry hearts! fare ye well, social friends!
Adieu! see the Rover her canvas unbends;
Land of all that is lovely for painting or verse,
Farewell! ere in distance thy beauties disperse,
Now Calshot is passed, now receding from view,
Once more, happy Vectis, a long, last adieu.

PORTSMOUTH

IN TIME OF PEACE.

Where now are the frolicsome care-killing souls,

With their girls and their fiddlers, their dances and bowls?
Where now are the blue jackets, once on our shore
The promoters of merriment, spending their store?
Where now are our tars in these dull piping times?
Laid up like old hulks, or enlisted in climes
Where the struggle for liberty calls on the brave,
The Peruvians, the Greeks, or Brazilians to save
From the yoke of oppression-there, Britons are found
Dealing death and destruction to tyrants around;
For wherever our tars rear the banner of fame,
They are still the victorious sons of the main.

-

A Trip to Portsmouth on board the Medina Steam-Boat
-The Change from War to Peace-Its Conse-
quences
The Portsmouth Greys - The Man of
War's Man-Tom Tackle and his Shipmate-
Lamentation of a Tar-The Hero Cochrane-An
old Acquaintance Reminiscences of the past
Sketches of Point-Street and Gosport Beach
Naval Anecdotes-"A Man's like a Ship on the
Ocean of Life."

"BEAR a hand, old fellow!" said Horace Eglantine one morning, coming down the companion hatchway of the Rover: "if you have any mind for a landcruise, let us make Portsmouth to-day on board the steamer, while our yacht goes up the harbour to get her copper polished and her rigging overhauled." In earlier days, while yet the light-heartedness of youth

and active curiosity excited my boyish spirit, I had visited Portsmouth, and the recollection of the scenes I then witnessed was still fresh upon my memory. The olive-branch of peace now waved over the land of my fathers; and while the internal state of the country, benefited by its healing balm, flourished, revived, invigorated and prosperous, Portsmouth and Gosport, and such like sea-ports, were almost deserted, and the active bustle and variety which but now reigned among their inhabitants had given way to desolation and abandonment: at least such was the account I had received from recent visitors. I was, therefore, anxious from observation to compare the present with the past; and, with this view, readily met the invitation of my friend Horace Eglantine. The voyage from Cowes to Portsmouth on board the steam-boat, performed, as it now is, with certainty, in about an hour and a half, is a delightful excursion ; and the appearance of the entrance to the harbour from sea, a most picturesque and imposing scene. The fortifications, which are considered the most complete in the world, stretching from east to west, on either side command the sea far as the cannons' power can reach. Nor is the harbour less attractive, flanked on each side by the towns of Gosport and Portsmouth, and filled with every description of vessel from the flag-ship of England's immortal hero, Nelson, which is here moored in the centre, a monument of past glory, to the small craft of the trader, and the more humble ferry-boat of the incessant applicant, who plys the passenger with his eternal note of "Common Hard, your honour."

One of my companions on board the Medina was an old man of war's man, whose visage, something of the colour and hardness of dried salmon, sufficiently indicated that the possessor had weathered many a trying gale, and was familiar with all the vicissitudes of the mighty deep. With the habitual roughness of

his manners was combined a singular degree of intelligence, and he evinced a disposition to be communicative, of which I found it very agreeable to avail myself. On approaching the harbour, my attention was arrested by the sight of a number of boats rowed by men arrayed in a grotesque uniform of speckled jackets, whose freights, to judge from appearances, must have been of no common weight, as the rowers seemed compelled to use a degree of exertion little inferior to that employed by galley-slaves. I inquired of my nautical Mentor who these men were, and in what description of service they were occupied. "Them, master," replied he, releasing the quid from his mouth, and looking with his weather-eye unutterable things; "they are the Portsmouth Greys." My countenance spoke plainly enough that this reply had by no means made me au fait to the subject of my question, and my informant accordingly proceeded-

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Shiver my timbers, mate, they are as rum a set, them boat's crews, as ever pulled an oar--chaps as the public keeps out of their own pocket for the public good; and it's been but just a slip, as one may say, between the cup and the lip, as has saved a good many on 'em from being run up to the yard-arm. Some on 'em forgot to return things as they found rather too easy, and some, instead of writing their own name, by mistake wrote somebody's else's; so government sent 'em here, at its own charge, to finish their edication. You see the floating academy as is kept a purpose for 'em," said he, pointing to the receiving-hulk for the convicts at this station, which was lying in the harbour: "them as is rowing in the boats," added the talkative seaman, “has been a getting stones, and ballast, and such like, for the repairs of the harbour; they does all the rough and dirty jobs as is to be done about the works and place-indeed, we calls'em the Port Admiral's skippers." I now fully understood the import of the term Portsmouth Greys, which had before been an enigma to

me; and comprehended that the unhappy beings before me were of

The ill-fated children of suff'ring and sin,

With conscience reproaching and sorrow within;
Bosoms that mis'ry and guilt could not sever,

Hearts that were blighted and broken for ever:
Where each, to some vice or vile passion a slave,

Shared the wreck of the mind, and the spirit's young grave.

Whose brief hist'ry of life, ere attain'd to its prime,
Unfolded a volume of madness and crime,

Such as leaves on the forehead of manhood a stain
Which tears ever shed seek to blot out in vain ;
A stain which as long as existence will last,

Embitt'ring the future with thoughts of the past.

I might have indulged much longer in these reflections, but my musing mood was interrupted by the Medina reaching her destination, and we disembarked safely at Portsmouth Point.

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On landing, the worthy veteran, who had, by his confabulation during the voyage, claimed, in his own opinion, a right of becoming my companion for a time, a privilege which, in such a scene, and at such a place, it will easily be believed I was not averse from granting him, proceeded along with me carpere iter comites parati, up Point Street, and at one of the turnings my friend made a sudden stop. "My eyes!" he exclaimed, may I perish, but that is my old messmate, Tom Tackle. Many's the can of flip we've scuttled while on board the Leander frigate together; and when we were obliged to part convoy and go on board different ships, there was above a little matter of brine about both our eyes." At this moment Tom Tackle came up with us the warmth of affection with which his old shipmate had spoken of him had interested me not a little in his favour, and his mutilated frame spoke volumes in behalf of the gallantry he had displayed in the service of his country. One eye was entirely