The British, after the attack of the 28th, occupied their whole time in landing heavier cannon. Having completed their arrangements, they resolved to make another attempt on the American works. The New Year opened with a heavy fog, which shrouded the whole plain and British encampment from sight. But, from its mysterious bosom, ominous, muffled sounds arose, which were distinctly heard in every part of the American line, and the troops stood to arms. At length, as the sun gathered strength, the fog lifted and parted--dimly revealing the whole plain. No sooner did the enemy, who had advanced their batteries within six hundred yards of the American intrenchments, see the long, black line of the latter, stretching through the haze, than a tremendous burst of artillery shook the solid levee on which it stood. A flight of Congreve rockets followed, crossing and recrossing the heavens in every direction, and weaving a fiery net-work over the heads of the astonished but undaunted Americans. The first heavy explosion sent Jackson to the lines; and luckily for him it did; for the British having been shown by a spy the house which he occupied, they directed a battery upon it, and in a few minutes it was riddled with balls. The American artillery replied, and it was a constant roar of cannon till noon, when most of the English batteries being beaten down or damaged, they ceased their fire. One, near the river, continued to play on the American works till three o'clock, when it also became silent, and the enemy, baffled at every point, retired sullenly to his camp. The two armies, each expecting reinforcements, now rested for a week from decisive hostilities. In the mean time, Jackson continued to strengthen his works and discipline his men. A Frenchman having come to him to complain of damage done to his property, the latter replied that, as he was a man of property, he knew of no one who had a better right to defend it, and placing a musket in his hands, ordered him into the ranks. During this week of comparative repose, New Orleans and the two hostile camps presented a spectacle of the most thrilling interest. The British army lay in full view of the American lines, their white tents looking, amid the surrounding water, like clouds of sail resting on the bosom of the river. At intervals were heard the sharp and rattling volleys of the pickets of the two armies, as they came in collision, while the morning and evening gun sent their stern challenge over the plain. There was marching and countermarching, strains of martial music, and all the confused sounds of a camp, when preparations are making for a grand and decisive blow. To the farmers, merchants, mechanics, and youths, who lay within the American intrenchments, the scene and the thoughts it awakened were new. Behind them stood their homes; before them, the veterans of Spain, whom, in a few days, they were to meet in final combat.