whose prowess had been tried only with a stripling like himself, hatched in the saine nest, and bred in the same barn-yard. In this mockery of war, neither had ever felt the sentiment of “victory or death!” Now the veteran views this young, unseasoned warrior with disdain, nearly allied to contempt, indicating that he was a chicken, below a hero's notice. At length he darts an indignant stroke, intended to drive the cadet from the field- it is returned-a dreadful conflict ensues-they fight-fail-rise and fight again; skill is on the veteran's side, but dauntless courage shakes the youthful warrior's glossy plumes. Both are strangers to fear, although experience has rendered the one cautious, while the other rushes on the charge with all the ardour and temerity of youth. Heedless of danger, he precipitates himself upon is the foe, and meets the stroke that prudence would have avoided-wounded severely, breathless and overcome, he makes a desperate but feeble attack upon his antagonist, and falls lifeless on the bed of honour.
There is a sympathy in nature, that impels her creatures to mingle in the scenes before then War and all its horrors reigned in this hitherto peaceful region; and so anxious were the intended gladiators to join the carnage, that they pecked and struck at each other, as they sat on the laps of their owners. Cowardice was banished from every heart, and every breast heaved with the exultation of anticipated victory. During four long hours, many were the victims of war. The dead and dying were carried off the field, to make room for
