as

and solemn as an Egyptian Sphinx? Thy speech, slow and impressive as thy motions — thy opinions, grave and inflexible as thy countenance? Thy conversation, sententious and preceptial much given to musty proverbs and time-honored saws? Thy true tory veneration for antiquity? - disconcerted at the flights of fancy tonished and alarmed at innovation, or new-fangled theories? What a thorough-bred aristocrat wert thou! But thou hadst reason. Thy blood had coursed through noble, even royal, veins. Tracing thine interminable pedigree back through the best pulses of old Virginia and of Britain, thou couldst prove, to thine own satisfaction, at least, that it joined issue with OWEN, of thy name-he from whom came the Henrys, and the Marys, and the Elizabeths, of the English throne. How patiently wouldst thou unravel the intricate thread of thine august lineage, to the wonder and edification of thy less fortunately-derived messmates!

'Foul scorn, didst thou think, O Tudor! of any thing plebeian. Gall and wormwood to thy noble heart was the name democracy! Proud wert thou, too, of thy profession - the most gallant, the most chivalrous, as, in thine enthusiasm, thou wouldst call it. Most orthodox thy contempt of trade! In the very words of ancient Pistol, thou calledst the whole tribe of money-getters 'dung-hill curs.' Thy southern pride made thee scorn too greatly thy northern brethren; 'darn'd yankee pedlars,' as thou wert wont to call us. Who could forget thy haughty frown, when once thou wert mistaken for a Boston tallow-chandler!

'Ha! that looks amazingly like a Boston friend of mine,' said a worthy ship-master to some middies of our ship, as they sat talking together in a café in Smyrna, as Tudor majestically stalked past the door.

'What was his name?' asked one of the middies.

Mr. Rugg; but it can't be him, here in Smyrna.'

'Oh yes, that's him!' quietly responded the waggish reefer, anticipating the consequences of such a mistake. I know him; pray

call him in.'

The ship-master ran out, and hallooed after him; and finally coming up, slapped him on the shoulder.

-

Why what the d -1 brought you here! Candles? Out on spec?' Tudor turned round, astonished and indignant. 'Sir!' said he, drawing himself up to his full height, explain yourself!'

Oh, I beg pardon,' said the other, falling back, somewhat abashed; 'I thought you were a Boston friend of mine - Mr. Rugg-firm of Rugg and Slugg, No. 22, Wharf, who sent out a speculation of

candles by me last trip.'

This was too much. Tudor lost his temper. I fear, too, in the exacerbation of the moment, he somewhat forgot his dignity. He was in a frightful passion, and as the middies, who were secretly enjoying the scene from the café, said, he fairly foamed at the mouth. A horrible oath escaped his lips. A Yankee! a candle maker!

Mr. Rugg!

Sir !' said he, in a voice of thunder, 'I am NOT the base plebeian! I am Mr. Tudor, of the United States Navy-a Virginian, Sir!' His detestation of the yankees in general, and of yankee ship

masters in particular, became from that moment a fixed and unalterable principle.

As cater,' Tudor was the best I have ever seen. He felt the importance and responsibility of the office. With what solemn deliberation would he carve our diurnal cube of 'salt-junk,' and distribute the same in equal slices - he was a just man - to his hungry and impatient messmates! With what dignified gravity would he 'bale' from the large tin tureen before him most impartial allowances of our savory pea-soup-tri-weekly! And oh! that ‘duff' — that plum duff! — plum-pudding, as land-lubbers would have awkwardly called it-of a Sunday! What though its specific gravity was not much less than that of our twenty-four pound shot, its tenacity somewhat greater than pure caoutchouc, and each separate raisin therein embedded, bearing much resemblance to the date-fish in his rock? No matter. Our spirits were more elastic than our pudding, and we had never yet felt that we had a ventricle for indigestion.

Who does not sigh to recall those pleasant days? - the days of youth vigorous, healthy, ever-hungry, easily-satisfied youth; that can luxuriate even upon fare thus simple; can undergo even a midshipman's duff, without calling for the aid of a physician!

To return to our cater.' With an air, how courteous and hospitable, would he serve out our Sunday treat of plum-pudding! And when our table had undergone a 'sea change,' in the entire disappearance of the eatables, to see his glow of satisfaction, when, with a smile, he would repeat his invariable jest: 'Waiter, remove the cloth, and show the mahogany' — (i. e., ash plank, which once was white, though we could not tell when,')—the signal, likewise, that the whiskey and warm water were also wanted, a fact our intelligent waiter was the last to forget. Tudor considered 'the first pull at the halliards' the right of his office a right there was none to dispute.' Important was his manner, as he nicely adjusted the exact proportions of that delectable beverage, warm with sugar! - then gracefully passing the precious bottle to the next in order.

When

The next in order,' was hard-headed, rough-visaged, true-hearted JACK VINING —‘Old Hickory,' as we called him. Heavens! what a glorious 'ugly mug' was his! It really was good to look upon so much good-natured ugliness. Jack, however, was the last person in the world to be conscious of it, and would contend for his beauty, barring the small-pox scarifications, with much earnestness. he was in coats, he would say, his beauty was so remarkable, that expectant mothers would send for him as a 'pattern child.' He could never understand our scepticism in relation to this fact, and would get well nigh angry at our want of belief. But who so blest with faith, as to believe that protruding eye and shaggy brow, that large mouth and stumpy nose, broad visage and carroty hair, had ever, under any circumstances, been features of beauty?

Vining was greatly annoyed at the unfortunate resemblance between his visnomy and the grim-looking tigers' faces on our catheads, as discovered by waggish SPOTSWOOD. That on the larboard cat-head, the latter contended, was a most accurate portrait. There must have been something in it, however, for the sailors used familiarly to call the said tigers' heads, Mr. Vining's heads.'

Notwithstanding his grim looks, Jack was the soul of good humor. He was the antipodes of Tudor, both in principles and manners, being a democrat the most ultra; and as to pride, the fient ha' pride, nae pride had he.' Howbeit they never quarrelled. He used to laugh at the lofty pretensions of Tudor, and I suspect he only pitied his more humble messmate in return.

Vining had practiced law in his native state of Kentucky, before he entered the navy. He was much too old for the service, and did wrong to quit the bar. Nature never intended him for a sailor, but he was what the sailors term an excellent ship's lawyer.' His foible was fondness for argument, but his figures of speech were all of the Colonel Wildfire order. He would have been an admirable stump orator.

Champion of the steerage, when our rights were invaded, he was always our spokesman to the captain; for who among us could speak so well? How eloquent he would be upon the subject of liberty and equal rights! Equal rights on board a man of war! Poor Jack was the only one who did not see the absurdity.

I now recollect but few specimens of Jack's westernisms, and these I think were not his best; but as they were characteristic, I will relate them.

One day at table, mischievous Spotswood got Vining into a political argument with Tudor, in which the latter was very positive and very absurd, and Jack very voluble, with quite as much absurdity. In process, General Jackson came up, for whom Tudor had as much aversion as the other veneration. In the excitement produced by the discussion, the grog, and the waggish Spotswood, who would first take part with one of the combatants, then with the other, throwing in a hint here, and a sneer there, and a laugh every where, they both lost their temper. Tudor abused the General without measure, till finally Jack, loosing all patience, cried out: 'Sir! you are not worthy to be a pebble stone under the pedestal of the column of glory which will be raised to General Jackson, whose apex will pierce the heavens!' - ending with a round oath, and an emphatic blow upon the table, that made the glasses ring. Stump oratory could no farther go.

In better style was his reply to a lieutenant, who frequently boasted of a farm he owned in Virginia, which Vining said was worthless land, as Kentuckians are apt to say of the lands of the 'Old Dominion.' 'Your land is so poor, that a single buck-rabbit would make a famine in your whole county, and run back to Laurel Mountain, with tears in his eyes, from hunger!'

One of the younger middies one night slept so soundly in his 'dream-bag,' that he did not hear the cry of all hands reef topsails, ahoy!' His absence from his station was noticed, and poor middie was arrested. Jack went to the captain to intercede in his behalf, and after a very moving appeal, curiously embellished in his own peculiar style, he said: 'Sir, there is not an officer in your ship that would more scorn to play possum than Mr. D :'

This figure of speech not a little puzzled our little commander, though it did not excite his anger, as did a still more striking illustration of Jack's.

Mr. Vining, what said the commodore to your application to go home?'

'Sir,' answered Vining, he said I should not go, and looked as black as a nigger in a cotton field !'

The next was P, the dandy of our mess. He wore stays, and curled his hair, and used perfumery, and learned to lisp, to languish, and to look bored. Laughing he voted vulgar. Drinking grog, too—but from respect to his messmates, as he was pleased to say, he had no objection to joining them in a glass of weak toddy. He was devoted to the fair, and believing himself irresistible, he was ever revelling in the thoughts of his fancied conquests. Every pretty girl he had ever spoken to, or danced with, he thought breaking her heart for him. He used to pity them, and wish, with a sigh, he was not quite so killing. He acquired the guitar - after incessant study, for he had but little native talent for music-sufficiently to accompany his voice, when he would sing, and roll up his eyes, as old Vining said, 'like a duck in a thunder-storm.' He was filled with affectations, yet at heart was an honorable, generous fellow, and would have been an excellent companion, had he been little less a coxcomb.

In odd contrast with dandy P, was reckless, rattle-pated, merry Spotswood—at once the delight and torment of the mess. No mortal ever cared less about his personal appearance than he; and truth to say it was often any thing but point device. But he cared as little about any thing else -save his joke. His whole life was a laugh laughing at every body and with every body, and turning all things into good-natured ridicule. His keen perceptions of the ridiculous, and happy faculty of showing off the oddities of human nature, had a fine field for their exercise, which he took care to improve, in our odd steerage.

He was always endeavoring to foment political disputes between those moral opposites, Tudor and Vining. He it was, who confirmed the Boston ship-master in his impressions that our majestic caterer was his quondam friend, Mr. Rugg, tallow-chandler. He was a continual torment to the Virginian, who liked him notwithstanding, as did every one else; but in proportion as Tudor was annoyed, Spotswood would be delighted.

A pig, belonging to the captain, was to be slaughtered during Spotswood's morning watch. He sent a green middie, who was a stranger to the service, and to the officers of the ship, down to tell Tudor to come on deck, and kill the captain's pig; adding that he was 'ship's butcher,' an office of great trust and emolument, he said, the butcher being responsible that the animal died without much pain, or any unseamanlike noise; for which he received the kidneys and tail as perquisites! Tudor, having had the middle watch, was highly incensed at being awakened from his sound sleep. It was some time before he could understand what the midshipman wanted.

'Did I understand you to say I was wanted to kill the captain's pig? What have I to do with the captain's pig?'

Spotswood had told the middie that Tudor was a great 'skulk,' and would probably be reluctant to turn out, but that it was his duty to stick by him until he had ousted hiin from his hammock. So the

youngster thought harsh measures quite justifiable, with one so sluggish.

'Come, come, Mr. Ship's-butcher, said he, giving the hammock a terrible shake, 'that wont do; rouse out! Don't be skulking below,

when you've got to kill the captain's pig.'

'What in h―ll do you mean, Mister What-the-devil 's-your-name, by taking such liberties with me?' roared out the enraged cater, as he started up in his hammock, and looked ferociously upon the poor middie. But the latter would not yield the point; his orders being very positive from Spotswood, who was now listening at the hatch, in great delight.

Oh, ho! Mister Butcher, you forget your tail and your kidneys! You'd better turn out, or the captain will be down upon you.'

'Mister Butcher!' who the devil do you take me for?' said the cater, in great excitement. My tail! my kidneys!' Are you mad ?'

Come,' said the middie, 'that 's too good! I heard you were a skulk, and now I believe it. But I must obey orders, and if you do n't turn out, I'll just cut you down.' 'Cut me down! you young villain! cut me down!' said Tudor, almost gasping for breath, as he sprung out à demi muè, and seized the hapless youngster by the collar, giving him a hearty shake before he threw him up the hatch to the other deck. You young dog! if you wake me again with any more of your monkey tricks, I'll crack every bone in your skin!'

By this time, all in the steerage were awake, and shouting with laughter, while the offended caterer shrunk back to his hammock, like a chafed tiger to his lair, growling over his rage.

Such waggeries are necessarily ephemeral, and I fear will not pass for much here. One should know the persons intimately, the time, place, circumstances, and other local affairs, that gave such jokes their peculiar relish. Beside, middies on shipboard are easily amused, and perhaps the same jests that once well nigh set me into convulsions, would now scarce move a muscle of even my own countenance. I remember very vividly many of Spotswood's merry pranks, that were wont to set our table in a roar,' but I dare not here hazard their narration. But in truth, he was a fellow of infinite jest, and most excellent fancy.'

It has been said, that almost every man is mad upon some particular point. Some ruling passion, or some peculiar theory, that from long indulgence, or from having long been the subject of intense meditation, obtains an ascendancy over every other, and is often a prolific cause of much absurdity. Spotswood had quick perception of such weaknesses, and adroitness in making them minister to his amusement. With old Vining he would discourse learnedly of civil law and democratic principles; and though he did think old Hickory's countenance much like the ornament of our larboard cathead, yet in general he allowed that Vining was still a handsome man, with an expression that would captivate the ladies; an admission that always put Vining in the best possible humor. With dandy P―, he would talk of fashion; ask the most approved mode of dressing the hair - rally him upon his conquests and get him to sing, his 'tune