I must conclude now. Try and keep up your spirits-- And believe me ever Your affectionate son, T. GOWING, Sergeant, Royal Fusiliers. A MOTHER'S LOVE. A mother's love--how sweet the name, What is a mother's love? A noble, pure, and tender flame Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold,-- This is a mother's love. _James Montgomery._ * * * * * "The gates of mercy shall be all shut up: And the fleshed soldier,--rough and hard of heart,-- In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell: mowing like grass Your fresh fair virgins and your flowering infants." _Shakespeare._ THE BATTLE OF INKERMANN. On the morning of the 5th November the enemy attacked us in our trenches in broad daylight. Our heavy guns gave it them prettily, and mowed down their dense columns by wholesale; but still they came on, until they felt the bayonet. Then, after some stiff fighting, which lasted more than an hour, they were compelled to beat a hasty retreat, our heavy guns sweeping lanes through them, and we plying them with musketry both in front and flank. We found they could run well, only too glad to get under cover. A sortie has no chance of success unless the besieging army can be taken by surprise; but no doubt this attack was made in order to distract our commander's attention from the vital point.