to the managers, yet orders were given that it should I quickly furled, the yards squared, the top gallant yards be struck from the list-and it has never to this day sent on deck, and to a cursory observer, every thing apbeen repeated in the "royal opera house" of Valetta. peared as if the ships had been at anchor for as many Some twenty years since, His Majesty's officers of days as it had been minutes since they passed the forthe army, were far more sensitive on the subject of tifications from which the sunset gun had been distheir national tune, than they would wish to be at the charged. The hoarse sound from the trumpet, as the present day. The time which was formerly occupied in officer of the watch quickly walked the quarter deck, the performance of this air, was passed in observing, and observed with a seaman's eye, those of the crew, and afterwards insulting those who might through igno- who might be neglecting their duty aloft, or to quote rance or inattention, have remained seated. It is now his own words, "were playing the soldier," had for a far more pleasantly, and as many would say profitably time been unheard, and the shrill notes from the boatemployed, in ogling through an eye glass the fair swain's whistle, as the evolutions were performed, had haired daughters of Europe, or the native brunettes of ceased, when a number of the younger officers made the island, as each in his taste may fancy. their appearance before the Commodore, and asked permission for an evening's absence. This request was readily granted, and each one, when on shore sought, as is customary, for a place of amusement, in which to while away their few idle hours of liberty. One of the younger officers being at the opera, and on his first cruise, was unacquainted with the custom of rising when the national air of "God save the King" was being performed, and therefore, remained seated. This circumstance served to draw the attention of those who were around, and to excite the indignation of an ensign of His Majesty's tenth regiment, who chanced to be a sprig of nobility, and consequently, as it would appear, felt himself bound to take notice of, and resent any insult which "he thought might be offered to his royal master." The feelings of the one addressed, were naturally aroused, and as he handed his card, he coolly remarked, that where no disrespect was intended, no such language would be permitted. The American officers having observed the situation in which their companion was placed, and thinking he had been insulted, quietly resumed their seats, and, as one re

In the spring of 18-, not many years after peace was declared between the United States and England, and at a period also when the feelings between the two nations were any thing but friendly, an incident occurred, which, but for the foresight of Sir Thomas Maitland, and prudence of the American Commodore, might have led to the most painful and fatal results. It was at the moment the signal gun was discharged from fort St. Angelo, to denote the hour of sunset, that an American line of battle ship, with a frigate and corvette in company, were observed to be entering the harbor of Valetta. The wind being light from the south, the smoke was slowly wafted in the direction from which the ships were approaching. This circumstance served to elicit from an old quarter gunner the following blunt remark-"I say, messmates, this, at our entrance, being greeted at the mouth of the cannon, is but an evil welcome, and proves any thing but a gracious reception." His hearers, who were in a merry mood, called him a superstitious old fool, and added that it was always the same with him; if he spoke of home, he could think of nothing but a haunted house or a walk-marked, "before the tune had done jingling in their ing ghost; when at sea, he was eternally talking of "Mother Cary's" chickens, a mackerel sky, or blowy weather-and now, when after a long cruise, and on a beautiful evening, entering a friendly port, he could see nothing but grim death staring him in the face, and Charon's boat ready for his reception. The old gunner heard the first part of their remark with perfect good humor; but when they spoke of his courage, on which subject he was naturally sensitive, he instantly lost all patience, and remarked-“If by that, messmates, you mean that I, who have served under Lawrence, McDonough, and Decatur-who have been in three naval engagements, and always found among the victorious crew-am now afraid of an empty gun, or a puff of curling smoke, you are most — mistaken; and it ill becomes your saying it." As no one could dispute his reasoning, he continued, as he carelessly looked at a group of idle soldiers lazily lounging on the Marina, "If our blue jackets don't have some dust with these red coats, before they get out of this, I, as Jonathan Davis of Marblehead, will lose my guess-for my part, I would rather be holy, striding the deck of the old Montezuma, in a thunder squall on the equator, than to see this good old ship running her nose in this cursed hole. You may laugh as you like, my boys, but my motto is, give us the ocean, and fair play is a jewel!"

At this moment, the ships had arrived at their anchorage, and taken a position equidistant between the shores of Vittoriosa and Burmola. The sails were

ears, were all accommodated with their neighbor's address." On the following morning, at an early hour, a boat was observed approaching the flag ship, in which were seated two officers, each of whom was of the rank of captain, and of the "king's army," as was written on their cards when handed for introduction. On going on board they were well received, their business explained, and every thing arranged to the satisfaction of the parties engaged. After pledging each other over a glass of Madeira, they were shown to the gangway, the marine presented arms, and the gentlemen retired. All this was done without the knowledge of the Commodore, and it was not until the salute of nineteen guns had been fired, as a compliment to the garrison, and the same had been returned, "that the commander in chief of the American naval forces in the Mediterranean" was informed by a note from his excellency the Governor, of his regret at the misunderstanding which had taken place between the two nations, who, from their descent, similarity of language, and customs, ought always to be united. Sir Thomas, at the same time, expressed a wish that the matter would be explained; and if this could not be done, that a plan should be devised to prevent the movements which had already been made, and by which it appeared that a greater part of the Americans had pledged themselves, as they came on shore, to ride into the country, to a garden not far distant from St. Antonio, where unobserved, they would await the arrival of their opponents, and

with the pistol, settle the matter of dispute, which unfortunately existed between them. All attempts at a reconciliation were fruitless-the motto with all being, first fight, then an apology, or another shot, as might suit the parties who had the ground. This reasoning, has oftentimes led to the most unfortunate results, and would, most undoubtedly, have done so in this instance, had not the Commodore and Sir Thomas hit upon the following stratagem, by which, if the misunderstanding could not be permanently removed, the proposed mode of settlement should be, at least for a time, deferred— and in a manner also, by which the honor of the parties engaged should not be compromised. At noon, on the following day, which was some two hours previous to the time appointed for the first hostile meeting, garrison orders appeared for a brigade review at Florian, which compelled the officers, who were preparing for an afternoon's ride, to be with their respective regi ments till sunset-at the same moment, a signal was hoisted on the American flag ship "for all boats to be along side," a command which could not be misunderstood, or by the rules of the service, under any pretence whatsoever, be violated.

She has gone! the gifted spirit hath burst its prison bars and sought its habitation in the skies! The lyre of beauty hath given its last, last echoes to the wind,— the hand that woke the soul of melody from its chords and bade it live, is smitten in its glory, upon the

It was near nightfall, when the soldiers returned to their barracks, and the officers to the bastions, to take, as they sneeringly remarked, a last look at their transatlantic brethren, who were brave, if they should judge from their words, but wanting, when it came to the point. The young ensign, who caused the diffi-string which was destined to prolong the proud fame of culty, was heard humming the words:

He that fights, and runs away,

Will live to fight another day

its possessor.

When conquerors die, the pomp and pageant-the nodding plume and the crape shrouded banner-the muffled drum and the cannon thunder-tell the gazer

when he, most unexpectedly, received a second chal- that the great have fallen, that the mighty have been lenge, which put an end to his song, and made him mutations of time, the uncertainty of life and the darkprostrated-and we moralize on the vicissitudes and think of the morrow. It so happened, that one Ame-ness of the tomb--and we unite to rear the proud maurican was left, who had been in the navy, seen some soleum to their memory and their glory. service, and was then filling a diplomatic situation in But when the gifted ones of earth are removedone of the Regencies of Barbary. Going up to a group when the priest falls at the altar, and the hand which of officers, who appeared equally astonished at his cool-lighted the shrine-fire forgets its duty, we weep o'er the ness and daring-as the one whose impudent tongue had been so suddenly silenced, he remarked, "Gen-memory of the hour when the song of praise rose from tlemen, I am but one; but I have the will, and indeed told that the services of the sanctuary were remembered. the Courts of the Temple, and the blaze of the altar intend to fight you each in turn, until it shall be my lot When the poet dies to fall." Need I add, that those who heard him, were brave men, and acted in every sense of the word, as became Englishmen and officers. The major who was the eldest present, immediately stepped forward, and extending his hand, observed-"We know not your name, sir, but admire your spirit ; and from your conduct when

alone, we are satisfied that were your absent friends present, they would have acted in the same honorable

manner."

On the morrow, all the officers left their cards, and during the day, Mr. Consul J**** was informed of his election, without ballot, as an honorary member of the regimental mess, during his residence at Malta. In the meantime, the Governor, Sir Thomas Maitland,

had made known the reasons which induced the commodore to take French leave, which served to make our countryman still more popular. Would I might name him-I can only mention, that he is at present a judge in one of the middle States, and universally esteemed in the district in which he resides. It is by such like

"Mute nature mourns her worshipper,

And celebrates his obsequies."

And to the eye of the individual who can understand and appreciate the spells of poesy, the very trees and bright young flowers, and the birds, all, all seem to waters, the gentle hills and the green valleys-the catch the pervading gloom, and mourn the loss of their friend and companion! Thus, gifted one, we miss had been hurled from its sanctified home, and we weep and mourn thee. We feel as tho' some household deity as tho' some idolized flower, beloved and beautiful, had been rudely crushed before us. Thine hath truly been

the poet's destiny; and though not "born in sorrow and baptized with tears," it has been a chequered pilgri mage of but little sunshine and much gloom. From the

most authentic accounts before us, we learn that "Lætitia Elizabeth Landon, was born in Hans Place,

Sketch by Mr. S. C. Hall.

U

the office

or at P. D. xx

London.

She is of the old Herefordshire family, of Tedstone-Delamere. Her father was, originally, intended for the navy; and sailed his first voyage as a midshipman, with his relative, Admiral Bowyer: he afterwards became a partner with Mr. Adair, the well known army agent, but died while his daughter was very young. Her uncle, the Rev. Dr. Landon, is Head of Worcester College, and Dean of Exeter. As we have heard her say, she cannot remember the time when composition-in some shape or other was not a habit. She used in her earliest childhood to invent long stories, and repeat them to her brother; these soon took a metrical form, and she frequently walked about the grounds of Trevor Park, and lay awake half the night, reciting her verses aloud. The realities of life began with her at a very early period. Her father's altered circumstances induced her to direct her mind to publication; and some of her poems were transmitted to the Editor of the Literary Gazette,'-the first and most constant of all her literary friends. He could scarcely believe they were written by the child who was introduced to him. 'The Improvisatrice' soon afterwards appeared, and obtained for her that reputation, to which every succeeding year has largely contributed.

"In person Miss Landon is small, and delicately framed; her form is exquisitely moulded; and her countenance is so full of expression, that, although her features are by no means regular, she must be considered handsome. Her conversation is brilliant, and abounds in wit. Like most persons of genius, her spirits are either too high or too low; and those who have seen her only during her moments of joyousness, imagine that the sadness which too generally pervades her writings, is all unreal

Blame not her mirth who was sad yesterday
And may be sad to-morrow.

"One of her prose tales records the history of her childhood. It is but a gloomy one-and she treats it as the shadow of her after life. In a communication before us, she says, 'I write poetry with far more ease than I do prose, and with far greater rapidity. In prose, I often stop and hesitate for a word-in poetry, never. Poetry always carries me out of myself; I forget every thing in the world but the subject which has interested my imagination. It is the most subtle and insinuating of pleasures,-but, like all pleasures, it is dearly bought. It is always succeeded by extreme depression of spirits, and an overflowing sense of bodily fatigue. Mine has been a successful career; and hope I am earnestly grateful for the encouragement I have received, and the friends I have made-but my life has convinced me that a public career must be a painful one to a woman. The envy and the notoriety carry with them a bitterness which predominates over the praise.' It has perhaps been her lot to encounter those best of friends-enemies-on her path through an eventful life; but she has the affection, as well as the admiration, of many; and her own generous and ardent zeal in forwarding the interests of those she regards, has not always been met with indifference or ingratitude."

From the pen of one who does honor to the land of his birth, we learn the true history in the case of the gifted and unfortunate lady—and if spirits from their VOL. V.-58

blessed abodes on high, smile benignantly on those who hallow their memory on earth, methinks this friend* of her early youth, will have thrown across his pathway from the skies a holy ray to lighten with its chastened beams his upward path to honorable renown.

"Poor L. E. L.! a more melancholy fate than her's is not to be found in the history of literary calamity. In the very bloom of a consummated hope-a hope which had supported her through many hard and bitter trials; and to which, though darkened by the clouds of adverse circumstance, she clung of her seeming reward, the cup was suddenly snatched from with the enduring faith and trust of woman-in the very moment her lips--nor love, nor constancy, nor genius could save her from the inexorable hand of the destroyer. In another world, we may indeed hope, she has a reward more perfect and pure right to murmur at the decree which called her hence. Heaven but lends the spirits-it hath endowed with inspirations of its own divinity-to the world, and in its own good time recalls them.

than the highest earthly one could have been; and we have no

But while we humbly bow to the mandate of Omnipotence, there is no need that we should do violence to the best sympa

thies of our nature, by withholding expressions of regret at the severance of cherished earthly ties, the breaking up of social and endearing affections. This is not the creed of nature, and, therefore, not of truth.

The writer of this slight sketch, from his earliest youth, has been intimately and personally acquainted with L. E. L. She was the companion and playmate of his sister's childhood, and the friend and confidant of her riper years. To a warm admiration of her genius, he has ever united a feeling of brotherly affection; nor could the fame of his own mother, were she no more, be well more sacred to him than is that of L. E. L. We advert to these things, only as furnishing proof, that in what he may advance hereafter, he will not speak without knowledge.

There was something peculiarly melancholy and shocking about the manner of L. E. L.'s death; but heart-rending as was that calamity to her friends, the unfeeling and brutal speculation which has been set afloat respecting her, has been to them, if possible, a source of yet severer anguish. If the unprincipled manufacturers of scandalous gossip, would but reflect upon the bitter misery they cause in their vocation, surely they would abandon it. The most depraved nature would not pursue a course so vile; while if he needs must be a villain, a hundred nobler methods are open to him. The tone of a portion of the press in relation to this melancholy affair, has been not only ungenerous, but positively wicked and unjust. People have not been content merely to indulge in speculation, but have actually fabricated falsehood for the support of their ridiculous and shallow theories.

One of the most infamous of these stories, we regret to say, is

of English origin. We are as proud as any man that breathes, of our native land, and seldom, aught connected with its name, costs us a blush; but truly, when we read the article we have referred to, our cheek did burn with shame and mortification, that the writer and ourself should have sprung from the same

soil. And for his sake, we could almost have renounced the name and birth-right of a Briton. We have no disposition to withhold the name of this person, nor do we fear to publish it : inasmuch as we are ready to prove at any time, that his asserions with regard to L. E. L. and Mr. McClean, her husband, were base lies; and that he knew them to be so while writing them. Shelton Mackenzie, a hack scribbler in Liverpool, who

by some infatuation on the part of the editor, has been permitted to thrust himself into respectable company as correspondent of the New York Star. Shelton Mackenzie is the manpsha! we did not mean to write the word,-the creature, who merely to pander to a vitiated, but unfortunately too prevalent, appetite for gossip, has deliberately slandered the fair and honorable reputation of the living, and cast reproach upon the sacred memory of the dead--upon the memory of a woman-and of his own land; a woman, too, who had adorned that land by her

Tho. R. Hofland, Esq., son of the talented authoress, and himself a writer of no little merit. The article which we select

is from the "American Museum," edited by Brooks the poet, and Dr. Snodgrass of Virginia.

This noble sacrifice of feeling to what he considered his duty, was not more severely felt by himself, than by her who had But our task is not-nor is the task of England accalled it into action. The tone of her writing--so exquisite in its plaintive, melancholy beauty--was derived from the inspiration complished! L. E. L. slumbers in a foreign grave, far of her own feelings in this affair; and very much of the glorious away from the scenes which were hallowed by her poetry, which has been read and admired as but the creation of muse, and the homes she made glad with her song. It a fertile fancy, was the genuine overflowing feeling of a sorrowing spirit--a spirit so divine in its nature, that its very complainis the duty of her countrymen to have her remains ings were robed in loveliness--its very miseries a source of joy placed in the soil that gave her birth-nay, it is the duty of her husband to bury her in that land where first