of the cannons were followed by a long series of echoes from the edges of the damp forests lining the banks of the three different branches or forks of the river.  The Admiral, who had the finest perception possible for all that was picturesque or beautiful, was exceedingly struck with the grandeur of this nocturnal salute, and having made the men lay their oars across the boat, while she drifted quickly down the river, he stood up in the stern-sheets in order to enjoy the scene more completely.

A trifling incident occurred shortly afterwards, which recalled to our thoughts another important service of Sir Samuel Hood’s, which, although it be familiarly known in the navy, may not be so fresh in the recollection of persons on shore.  A question arose in the boat as to whether or not the land-wind was blowing.  Some said there was a breeze up the river, while others maintained that the wind blew down, towards the sea.  The Admiral let us go on speculating and arguing for some time, and then said, “You are both wrong; there is not a breath of air either up or down the river.  At all events we shall soon see, if you will strike me a light.”  This was done accordingly; and the Admiral, standing on the after-thwart, held the naked candle high over his head, while the men ceased rowing.

“There, you see,” exclaimed he, “the flame stands quite upright, which proves, that if there be any breeze at all, it blows no faster than the stream runs down.”

As he yet spoke, the flame bent from the land, and in the next instant was puffed out by a slight gust from the forest.

“Ay! that’s something like!” exclaimed the commander-in-chief; adding, in an under tone, as he resumed his seat, “I have known the time when a flaw of wind, not greater than has just blown out this candle, has rendered good service to his Majesty.”  This was the incident to which he alluded:—­

Early in the year 1794, when Captain Hood commanded his Majesty’s ship Juno, the port of Toulon, though in possession of the English at the time of his departure on a short trip to Malta, had been evacuated while the Juno was absent; and as the land was made in the night, no suspicion of that important change of affairs arose in the mind of any one.  With his wonted decision, therefore, into the port he dashed; for, although the Juno carried no pilot, Captain Hood’s knowledge of every port he had once visited rendered him comparatively indifferent on that score.  A couple of the sharpest-sighted midshipmen were stationed with glasses to look out for the fleet; but no ships were seen—­for the best of all reasons—­none were there!