people and things, which, had his thoughts and feelings been differently pitched at first, might very probably have proved the sources of his fortune.

'On the other hand, if a young man happen to make some fortunate hits, as they are called, early enough in his career, to be put into good humour with the world through which he has to struggle, the journey of his life may turn out far easier, chiefly because he finds "troops of friends" always ready to assist him. The great mass of wayfarers in this arduous course, generally speaking, are like any thing rather than the good Samaritan, for they will seldom help those who either cannot, or will not help themselves; we have, at all events, the authority of the parable for supposing that the chances are at least two to one against us, even in the extreme case, when we are left "half dead;" and it seems not too much to say, that the odds become ten times more unfavourable to us when we are capable enough of assisting ourselves, but rather choose to sit bawling to Mercury to help us out of the mire, instead of placing our own shoulders to the wheel.'-vol. ii. pp. 41-43.

Nothing can be more modest than the account which the author gives of the course of industry, vigilance, and steadiness, by means of which he came to be considered by his commander, as by far the first and best of all his fellow midshipmen on board the Leander. Hence, whenever a prize was taken, he was generally sure to be sent to the next British port with her as prize-master-an appointment not only honourable in itself, but eminently conducive to his advancement in his profession, as it invested him for a while with all the responsibilities of a captain. While upon this subject, much to the credit of his moral feelings, he declares, in no unequivocal terms, against the natural equity of those international laws, which permit the spoliation by an enemy of private property found upon the high seas. It is indeed now required, that before a ship or cargo so captured can be sold, and the proceeds distributed among the captors, the prize must be regularly condemned by a court of Admiralty. To a certain extent this rule has produced a salutary effect, though it was but little attended to during the late war. But even if it had been observed with the utmost strictness, how can it be supposed to give a really just right to the captor over property thus obtained? The nations of France and England declare war against each other; numerous merchant vessels belonging to either country are returning home from distant ports, laden with innocent goods— that is to say, with silk and cotton, timber, coffee, wine, fruits, and produce of every description, to the exclusion of gunpowder and fire-arms. They are met by hostile ships of war, or privateers, captured, carried to port, condemned, and sold, and the money is divided, according to certain rules of proportion, between the officers and crews of the capturing vessel! Suppose, that in time of war, one of our gallant ships landed in the night time, at Havre or Boulogne, a company of marines, and that they proceeded to a gentleman's mansion, broke open the door, and plundered it of all the plate and money they could find, returned to the ship, and were allowed to retain the property they had thus acquired, would any honest man,

putting his hand upon his heart, say that they had acted in conformity to the laws of God? Certainly not. What then is the difference between appropriating plunder thus removed from a private house on land, and confiscating, according to form, the merchant's vessel and cargo found upon the sea? We confess that we can see none. If two hostile ships of war meet on their native element, and rush against each other with fury that cannot be extinguished, until either be the conqueror, let the conqueror have his palm and his reward, to which he has fairly entitled himself by his valour. But it is unworthy of the noble game of war, that one of her proudest instruments, a good ship, adorned by brave men, should chase and overwhelm the feeble and unprotected merchant, who is engaged in adventures of the sea, in themselves sufficiently perilous, for the support of his family. It is more than unworthy, it is a violation of natural justice, however sanctioned it may be by conventional laws. But if this reasoning be true, as applied to a national ship of war, how much more forcibly does it not apply to privateersthat is to say, to private merchant vessels, armed, and dispatched by their owners to various regions, for the express purpose of attacking and plundering every vessel belonging to the enemy's country, which is not strong enough to resist them! The immorality of privateering, as it is called, can admit of no question. It differs in nothing from robbery in private houses. It may be said, in favour of such captures, by national ships, that the custom inspires the men to do their duty with cordiality, because it promotes their individual interests, which it thus engages in the public service. But upon the part of the practice of privateering and letters of marque, nothing can be said that will stand for a moment the test of a sound conscience. We trust that the time is approaching when this important subject shall be fully considered, and such regulations shall be made by civilized states, as may be consistent with the just rights of property. Notwithstanding these observations, the captain's account of his first experiment, as a prize-master, will not admit of disparagement.

For my part, I did not sleep one minute at a time during the first night I was prize-master. Every sea that struck the bows, and shook the Spanish brig I had charge of, made me jump up, fancying some accident. Or if I dropt into a half-slumber, straightway, methought, the furious Dons with their daggers were at my throat, and the beautiful prize wrenched from me! The next dream was, that we had sprung a leak; and the pumps being choked, all the cargo was melted away, and we had to return in a crazy boat, to tell a lame tale of services unperformed. On the second night, having overwrought myself with this sort of anxiety, I lay half awake, in a sort of fever, and fancied every thing was going wrong. I had left the deck at midnight, with the wind so dead against us, that it seemed as if our passage would never be made. I soon, however, fell so fast asleep, as to hear none of the stir which took place on deck early in the middle watch. Towards four o'clock I awoke, when all again was still. I had not taken off my clothes, and even the spy-glass, with which I had

been looking at the stars, was still in my hand. Of course, I imagined the wind, as before, was blowing against us, and, starting up, I went once more on deck, to growl at the hard-hearted breeze that kept us back.

'The moon, which had been high in the heavens when I quitted the deck, was now dropping into the western horizon, in the direction of the gulf of Mexico, between which and the prize there stretched a slender line, or chain, of bright silvery reflections, such as we rarely observe, except when the sea is very smooth. The surface, indeed, was scarcely broken by the smallest possible ripple; for we were then leaving the trade-winds, and although a light air had sprung up from the southward, and promised to freshen, it, as yet, scarcely breathed along the face of the waters: still it was distinctly felt aloft. If there had been the slightest swell, even the highest sails must have flapped against the masts. But the canvass, made of cotton, and as white as snow, being rendered quite damp by the heavy dew of the tropics, the royals and smaller studding-sails were bulged out under the influence of the light wind, and stood nearly as motionless, as if the prize had been one of those beautiful toys made of glass, and the whole scene, ocean, sky, and ship, a mere illusion.

On looking over the gangway, therefore, I was surprised to see that we were stealing along at the rate of between four and five knots an hour, for the sea was so smooth, that not the smallest tremor had indicated how fast we were going through the water. The ear, indeed, when attentively pitched, could catch the faint sound of those tiny little waves, which the poets, I believe, call billows, breaking on the sharp bows of the prize, as her cut-water glided between them, or rather, across them, for we were going right before it.' The night, which had succeeded to a sultry day, was still so hot, that the officer of the watch, my assistant-mid, was pacing the deck without his hat, and his linen jacket thrown open, to catch the cool air, which he was whistling zealously to augment. He reported, that the breeze which had been directly against us when I left the deck, had died away, and in its place the light air now blowing from the south had sprung up, but so gradually, that he thought there was every appearance of its lasting.

'No one, perhaps, can conceive the delight of such a scene as this, but persons who have been in some way dependent upon the winds and waves for their success, and have experienced the happiness of a change from a foul wind to a fair wind. Every stitch of sail that could be set, was of course now crowded on the vessel, and every yard was trimmed with the utmost care, after which I again laid down, in spite of the picturesque beauty of the night, and in less than two minutes was fast asleep, dreaming of sailing past Old Cape Sambro, and of anchoring my charge, in full security, at Halifax. Then I pictured in my fancy the great honour and glory of marching up to the admiral's house, to report the arrival of a prize -always a welcome communication. Nor am I clear which was really the happier period of the two-the actual arrival in port, or these visions of importance, attached to the anticipated success of this first independent voyage. But of one thing I am quite certain, that all this stirring-up of the thoughts, and highly strained, yet not overstrained exercise of the faculties-this constant play of hopes and fears, anxieties during a foul wind, and ecstasies when it is fair, must be in the highest degree profitable to a young officer. My experience, at least, enables me to say, that such duties give a very

just foretaste of the future cares, as well as future enjoyments, of the profession. I speak of those subsequent periods when, instead of a mere passing service, such as the humble charge of a petty prize, he is called upon to act under responsibilities, which are not only infinitely more weighty, but more permanent in their pressure, and which are varied in their kind and in their degree, much beyond the reach of experience to anticipate, or of previous instruction to render simple.'-vol. ii. pp. 62-67.

The third volume is chiefly taken up with a trip to Spain. It contains, among other things, a vivid and graphic picture of the sanguinary battle of Corunna, of which the author was an amateur spectator. Being divested of technicality, it places the scene before our eyes in the clearest manner. We must pass over all that relates to the Peninsula, as we have lately visited it in company with the "young American ;" at the same time we may inform the reader, that Captain Hall's account of his excursions in that country are well worth attention. We cannot, however, take leave of this delightful work, without extracting from it the description which the author gives of a seaman's funeral. There is a pathetic and manly tenderness in the picture which comes home to every heart. Very shortly after poor Jack dies, he is prepared for his deep-sea grave by his messmates, who, with the assistance of the sail-maker, and in the presence of the master-at-arms, sew him up in his hammock, and having placed a couple of cannon-shot at his feet, they rest the body (which now not a little resembles an Egyptian mummy,) on a spare grating. Some portion of the bedding and clothes are always made up in the packageapparently to prevent the form being too much seen. It is then carried aft, and, being placed across the after hatchway, the union jack is thrown over all. Sometimes it is placed between two of the guns, under the half deck; but generally, I think, he is laid where I have mentioned, just abaft the mainmast.

'I should have mentioned before, that as soon as the surgeon's ineffectual professional offices are at an end, he walks to the quarter-deck, and reports to the officer of the watch that one of his patients has just expired. At whatever hour of the day or night this occurs, the captain is immediately made acquainted with the circumstance. At the same time the master-at-arms is ordered by the officer of the watch to take possession of the dead man's clothes; and his messmates soon afterwards proceed to dress and prepare the body for burial.

'Next day, generally about eleven o'clock, the bell on which the halfhours are struck, is tolled for the funeral by one of the quarter-masters of the watch below, or by one of the deceased's messmates; and all who choose to be present, assemble on the gangways, booms, and round the mainmast, while the forepart of the quarter-deck is occupied by the officers.

In some ships-and it ought perhaps to be so in all-it is made imperative on the officers and crew to attend this ceremony. If such attendance be a proper mark of respect to a professional brother, as it surely is—it ought to be enforced, and not left to caprice. There may, indeed, be times of great fatigue, when it would harass men and officers, needlessly, to oblige them to come on deck for every funeral, and upon such occasions the watch on deck may be sufficient. Or, when some dire disease gets into

a ship, and is cutting down her crew by its daily and nightly, or it may be hourly, ravages; and when, two or three times in a watch, the ceremony must be repeated, those only, whose turn it is to be on deck, need be assembled. In such fearful times, the funeral is generally made to follow close upon the death.

While the people are repairing to the quarter-deck, in obedience to the summons of the bell, the grating on which the body is placed, being lifted from the main-deck by the messmates of the man who has died, is made to rest across the lee gangway. The stanchions for the man-ropes of the side are unshipped, and an opening made at the after-end of the hammock netting, sufficiently large to allow a free passage.

'The body is still covered by the flag already mentioned, with the feet projecting a little over the gunwale, while the messmates of the deceased range themselves on each side. A rope, which is kept out of sight in these arrangements, is then made fast to the grating, for a purpose which will be seen presently.

'When all is ready, the chaplain, if there be one on board, or if not, the captain, or any of the officers he may direct to officiate, appears on the quarter-deck and commences the beautiful service, which, though but too familiar to most ears, I have observed, never fails to rivet the attention even of the rudest and least reflecting. Of course, the bell has ceased to toll, and every one stands in silence and uncovered as the prayers are read. Sailors, with all their looseness of habits, are well disposed to be sincerely religious; and when they have fair play given them, they will always, I believe, be found to stand on as good vantage ground, in this respect, as their fellow-countrymen on shore. Be this as it may, there can be no more attentive, or apparently reverent auditory, than assembles on the deck of a ship of war, on the occasion of a shipmate's burial.

There is no material difference in the form of this service from that used on shore, except in the place where allusion is made to the return of the body to its parent earth. Perhaps it might have been as well to havề left this unchanged, for the ocean may well be taken, in this sense, as a part of the earth, but since an alteration of the words was thought necessary, it could not have been made in better taste.

The land service for the burial of the dead contains the following words :

"Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God, of his great mercy, to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope," &c.

6

Every one, I am sure, who has attended the funeral of a friend,-and whom will this not include ?—must recollect the solemnity of that stage of the ceremony, where, as the above words are pronounced, there are cast into the grave, three successive portions of earth, which, falling on the coffin, send up a hollow, mournful sound, resembling no other that I know. 'In the burial service at sea, the part quoted above is varied in the following very striking and solemn manner :

""Forasmuch," &c.-" we therefore commit his body to the deep, to be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body, when the sea shall give up her dead, and the life of the world to come," &c.

'At the commencement of this part of the service, one of the seamen