brave fellows into close quarters. While he lay thus sheltered the enemy twice attempted to board him on the larboard quarter; but by a dexterous turn of the helm he frustrated both attempts, though the Frenchman kept firing upon him both with guns and small arms. At two o'clock, when the action had lasted an hour, the privateer running furiously in upon the larboard of the Isabella, entangled her bowsprit among the main shrouds, and was lashed fast to her. Captain Andre now bawled out in a menacing tone, “You English dog, strike." Captain Hornby challenged him to come on board and strike his colours, if he dared. The exasperated Frenchman instantly threw in twenty men on the Isabella, who began to hack and hew into the close quarters; but a general discharge of blunderbusses forced the assailants to retreat as fast as their wounds would permit them.

The privateer being now disengaged from the Isabella, turned about and made another attempt on the starboard side, when the valiant Hornby and his mate shot each his man as the enemy were again lashing the ships together. The Frenchman once more commanded him to strike; and the brave Englishman returning another refusal, twenty fresh men entered, and made a fierce attack on the close quarters with hatches and pole axes, with which they had nearly cut their way through in three places; but the constant fire kept up by Captain Hornby and his crew, obliged them a second time to retreat, carrying their wounded with them, and hauling their dead after them with boat-hooks.

The Isabella continuing still lashed to the enemy, the latter, with snall arms, fired, repeated, and terrible volleys into the close quarters; but the fire was returned with such spirit and effect, that the Frenchmen repeatedly gave way. At length Captain Hornby seeeing them crowding behind their mainmast for shelter, aimed a blunderbuss at them, which being by mistake doubly loaded, containing twice twelve balls, burst. in the firing, and threw him down, to the great consternation of his little crew, who supposed him dead. In an instant

however, he started up again, though greatly bruised, while the enemy, among whom the blunderbuss had made dreadful havoc, disengaged themselves from the Isabella, to which they had been lashed an hour and a quarter, and sheered off with precipitation, leaving their grapplings, and a quantity of pole axes, pistols, and cutlasses, behind them.

The gallant Hornby now exultingly fired his two starboard guns into the enemy's stern. The indignant Frenchman immediately returned, and renewed the conflict, which was carried on yard-arm and yard-arm, with great fury, for two hours together. The Isabella was shot through her hull several times, her sails and rigging were torn to pieces, her ensign was dismounted, and every mast and yard damaged; yet she still bravely maintained the combat, and at last, by a fortunate shot, which struck the Brancas between wind and water, obliged her to sheer off and careen. While the enemy were retiring, Hornby and his little crew sallied out from their fastness, and erecting their fallen ensign, gave three cheers.

By this time both vessels had driven so near the English shore, that immense crowds had assembled to be spectators of the action. The Frenchman having stopped his leak, returned to the combat, and poured a dreadful volley into the stern of the Isabella, when Captain Hornby was wounded by a ball in the temple, and bled profusely. The sight of their brave commander, streaming with blood, somewhat disconcerted his gallant companions, but he called to them briskly to keep up their courage, and stand to their arms, for his wound was not dangerous. On this their spirits revived, and again taking post in their close quarters, they sustained the shock of three more tremendous broadsides, in returning which they forced the Brancas, by another well-aimed shot, a second time to sheer off and careen. The huzzas of the Isabella's crew were renewed, and they again set up their shattered ensign, which was shot through and through into honourable rags.

Andre, who was not deficient in bravery, soon returned to

the fight, and having disabled the Isabella by five terrible broadsides, once more summoned Hornby, with terrible menaces, to strike his colours. Captain Hornby turned to his gallant comrades. "You see yonder, my lads," pointing to the shore," the witnesses of your valour." It was unnecessary to say more; they one and all assured him of their resolution to stand by him to their last; and finding them thus invincibly determined, he hurled his final defiance at the enemy.

Andre immediately ran his ship upon the Isabella's starboard, and lashed close alongside; but his crew murmured, and refused to renew the dangerous task of boarding, so that he was obliged to cut the lashings and again retreat.

Captain Hornby resolved to salute the privateer with one parting gun; and this last shot fired into the stern of the Brancas happening to reach the magazine, it blew up with a tremendous explosion, and the vessel instantly went to the bottom. Out of seventy-five men, thirty-six were killed or wounded in the action, and all the rest, together with the wounded, perished in the deep, except three, who were picked up in the Dutch fishing-boats.

This horrible catastrophe excited the compassion of the brave Hornby and his men; but they could unfortunately, render no assistance to their ill-fated enemies, the Isabella having become unmanageable, and her boat being shattered to pieces. Mr. Hornby afterwards received from his sovereign a large gold medal, in commemoration of his heroic conduct on this occasion; conduct, perhaps, not surpassed by any thing in the annals of British naval prowess.

There are several heads of the Church; Christ alone is the spiritual Head; the sovereign prince, the political head; the Ecclesiastical head is a general Council, and under that each patriarch in his patriarchate.-Bramhall.

EMBLEMS.

Ah! wherefore should they thus remove

The cross from out Thy house?
Sure 'tis to ev'ry Christian dear,
A pledge of thy blest love.

Oh! may we ne'er gaze on this badge
Of our profession, Lord!
Without rememb'ring Thou hast bled
Upon the cross for us?

Rememb'ring too that Thou hast said,
"Bear each his cross with me;
He who asham'd of Me shall be,
Of him I'll be ashamed."

Then never let me fear to own
My reverence for that form
Which kindles in my cold dark heart,
Such fire of love and hope.

Was not that form imprest on me
With solemn mystic pow'r?
Fondly that sign I'll cherish Lord,
Which seal'd me one of Thine.

All ill escaped, all good receiv'd,
All hopes beyond the grave,
Are due I know-not unto me-
To Christ e'en through His cross.

Oh! never can I see that sign

Without remembering Christ;

His pains! His love! His grief! His grace! His triumph over death!

Ah! wherefore, wherefore, should the cross
A stumbling block be made?

It surely is the Christian's badge
His glory and his might!

Our country sign posts and cross roads

Convey to me a charm ;

The narrow way, the Cross of Christ,
Through them are plainly trac’d.

No image or likeness have we
But emblems Jesus used:
He much did teach by parables
And tropes and metaphors.

The sacred writings all abound
In similies and signs,

And all from homely things are ta’en ;
Then why reject the cross!

Ah should this sign be quite denied
I still would trace its forin
In many things, the ass to wit—
Nay in my very frame.

I have but to extend my arms,
Or pray❜rful smite my breast;
That form then rises to my view
Which minds me of Thy love.