The

a large and force, commanded by Clinton and Corn wallis, to make an attempt on Charleston, the capital. Before the ships could be brought to pay their respects to the town, they must, it seems, pass a little fort on Sullivan's Island. This, however, being defended only by raw militia, was hardly looked on as an obstacle. Happily for America, the command of the fort had been committed to General Moultrie; for the chief in command, Gen. Charles Lee, though otherwise brave, was ever in the frights at the thought of a British man of war; and for a general, much too free in lending his fear to others. For, while Moultrie was showing him the fort, and in the language of a fiery patriot was boasting what handsome resistance he hoped it would make; Lee with infinite scorn replied, "Pshaw! a mere slaughter house! a mere slaughter house! a British man of war will knock it about your ears in half an hour!" He even proposed to abandon the fort! courage of one man saved Charleston, and perhaps the State. That fortunate man was John Rutledge, Esq., governor of South Carolina. He insisted that the fort should be defended to the last extremity. Moultrie was called in. "Well, General Moultrie," said Gov. Rutledge, "what do you think of giving up the fort!" Moultrie could scarcely suppress his indignation. "No man, sir," said he to Lee, "can have a higner opinion of the British ships and seamen than I have. But there are others who love the smell of gunpowder as well as they do; and give us but plenty of powder and ball, sir, and let them come on as soon as they please." His courage was quickly put to the test; for about 10 o'clock, on the 28th of June, in the glorious 1776, Sir Peter Parker, with seven tall ships formed his line, and bearing down within point-blank shot of the fort, let go his anchors and began a tremendous fire. At every thundering blast he fondly hoped to see the militia take to the sands like frightened rats from an

old barn on fire. But, widely different from his hopes, the militia stood their ground, firm as the Black-jacks of their land; and levelling their four. and-twenty pounders with good aim, bored the ola hearts of oak through and through at every fire Their third broadside carried away the springs on the cables of the commodore's ship, which immediately swung around right stern upon the guns of the fort-Hurra! my sons of thunder," was instantly the cry along the American battery, "look handsomely to the commodore! now my boys, for your best respects to the commodore!" Little did the commodore thank them for such respects; for in a short time he had 60 of his brave crew lying lifeless on his decks, and his cockpit stowed with the wound ed. At one period of the action, the quarter-deck was cleared of every soul, except Sir Peter himself. Nor was he entirely excused; for an honest cannon ball, by way of broad hint that it was out of character for a Briton to fight against liberty, rudely snatched away the bag of his silk breeches. Thus Sir Peter had the honour to be the first, and I believe the only Sans Culotte ever heard of in American natural history!!

The Americans stood the fire like SALAMANDERS; for the neighbouring shores were lined with thousands of their dearest relatives, anxiously looking on! the British tars, poor fellows! had no sisters, mothers, nor wives, spectators of their strife; but fought, notwithstanding, with their wonted heroism. Long accustomed to mastery in battles with the French and greatly out-numbering the fort both in men and guns, they counted on certain victory; and though drreadfully handled, scorned to yield. Immense were the exertions on both sides; and while the powder of the fort lasted, the conflict was awfully grand-From ships to fort, and from fort to ships again, all below seemed one stream of solid fire; all abore, one vast mountain of smoke darkening the

day, while unintermitted bursts of thunder deafened all ears, and far around shook both land and sea.

The heroes in the fort won immortal honour. One brave fellow, a Sergeant Jasper, observing the flagstaff shot away, jumped down from the fort on the beach, in the hottest fury of the battle, and snatching up he flag, returned it to its place, streaming defiance, with a-" Hurra, my boys, liberty and America for ever." Governor Rutledge rewarded him with a sword. Another Sergeant, M'Donald, while roaring away with his 24 pounder, was terribly shattered by a cannon ball. When about to expire, he lifted up his dying eyes and said-" My brave countrymen, I die; but don't let the cause of Liberty die with me.' Now louder and louder still, peal on peal, the American thunder burst forth with earth-trembling crashes: and the British ships, after a long and gallant struggle, hauled off with a good fortnight's worth of work for surgeons, carpenters and riggers.

Sir Peter was so dumb-founded by this drubbing, that it took him full eight-and forty-hours to recover his stomach for his beef and pudding. So wonderfuly had it let him down, that even his black pilots grew impudent upon him. For as he was going out over the bar, he called to Cudjo (a black fellow, a pilot who was sounding the depth of the water)" Čudjo! (says he) what water have you got there?”

"What water, massa? what water? why salt water, be sure, sir?-sea water alway salt water, an't he, massa?"

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"You black rascal, I knew it was salt water. only wanted to know how much water you have there?"

"How much water here, massa? how much water here! God bless me, massa! where I going get quart pot for measure him?"

This was right down impudence; and Cudjo richly deserved a rope's end for it; but Sir Peter, a good natured man, was so tickled with the idea of measur