d of. The ship continued to burn during the night, and the
flames, as they darted from her sides, shed a ruddy glare upon the
wild scenery around, and breaking through the shade of the thick and
lofty trees rested upon a landscape worthy of the pencil of Salvator
Rosa.

Upon the summit of a hill, and under the spreading branches of the
majestic trees, was a rude encampment, formed by the erection of a few
wigwams; whilst here and there, collected together in groups and
reclining in different attitudes, were parties of men armed with pikes
or cutlasses, in their ragged, unwashed, and unshorn appearance,
resembling rather a gang of banditti, than the crew of a British ship
of war.

It was with the most painful feelings that both officers and men
witnessed the gradual destruction of the gallant ship, which had been
their home for so many months.

No one but a sailor can understand the devotion with which a brother
sailor regards his ship, and we cannot better describe it than in the
words of Captain Basil Hall:--

'We do truly make the ship our home, and we have no other thoughts of
professional duty or of happiness, but what are connected with the
vessel in which we swim; we take a pride in her very looks, as we
might in those of a daughter; and bring up her crew to honourable
deeds, as we should wish to instruct our sons. The rate of sailing of
each ship in a fleet is a subject of never-ending discussion amongst
all classes of officers, midshipmen, and crews, every one of whom
considers his own individual honour involved in all the ship does or
is capable of doing.

'This is true almost universally, but it is most striking, no doubt,
in our first ship, which like our first love, is supposed to drink up
from our opening feelings the richest drops of sentiment, never to be
outdone, or even equalled by future attachments.

'I owe, indeed, much good companionship, and many sincere obligations
to other vessels; yet I am sure that if I live to be Lord High
Admiral, the old Leander must still be nearest and dearest to my
nautical heart. I remember every corner about her, every beam, every
cabin, every gun.'

The same feeling, no doubt, existed in the breast of every man and
boy who now stood watching, with painful interest, the fate of the old
ship; all had been too actively employed from the time the vessel
first struck to think of anything save of providing means for their
own preservation; but now, in the dead hour