PREFACE. IN offering the following pages to the public, I cannot be actuated by overgrown vanity, nor instigated by author-like ambition: some portion of my work has, in another form, already been published, and now appears with some of the scenes of a Sailor's Life enlarged, and rendered, I hope, more interesting. Every scene is a scene of real life, not exaggerated; but the events which are here recorded actually occurred, and I may say truly, These eyes-these eyes beheld the fact. A sailor's life is full of strange vicissitudes; some of us walk through our existence smoothly and quietly, mounting in our profession over the heads of more meritorious men than ourselves, unscared by the enemy, and unwounded by misfortune. It is to others a road rugged with trouble, where pleasure is a stranger, and repose unknown; and where, like the fabled stone, no sooner do we think we have reached the summit, than we are hurled again to the bottom. It is a life, to some, of indescribable misery. How often have I seen a midshipman of forty-five years of age, and a lieutenant of sixty! From these poor fellows, destitute of worldly interest, and existing entirely by their miserable pay and ship's allowance, the lighter hours of life are not entirely withheld; they find recreation in the merited abuse of their seniors, and fight the battles of the Nile VOL. I. 1 and Trafalgar on the oak table, designating ships by drops of water, and the admirals by pieces of biscuit. As every subaltern could have managed the allied armies better than either Wellington or Swartzenburg, so every midshipman could have managed Nelson's fleet better than the great admiral. They are pleased to find faults; and, as no one contradicts their assertions, they experience the momentary pleasure of conscious superiority -then, drowning the cold neglect of the world in a jroum of grog, retire to their hammocks, in visions of fancy, believing themselves the talented heroes, that in more youthful days they once aspired to be. It was my lot to be more fortunate: but I cannot forget what has passed before my own eyes. Here I will mention one anecdote to verify the above statements. It will be seen that I was promoted as soon as my age and service permitted. I looked younger than I was— and I recollect poor Preston, when I exhibited my commission, turning round to Sir Alexander Gordon, and remarking, "I say, Gordon, what the devil do the Lords of the Admiralty mean, by appointing such boys to my ship?" If he had boys for lieutenants, he had greybeards for midshipmen. I was left commanding-officer one day; and, being engaged in some occupation below, was informed by the midshipman of the watch, that the serjeant had a complaint to make against the master's mate. I went instantly on deck, and sent for the matę; -what was my surprise to find "a young gentleman" as midshipman are termed-of upwards of forty years of age, with a grey head and weather-beaten countenance! He stood before his beardless judge like Shylock before Portia. I reserved the case for the firstlieutenant, and went below in my own cabin. I asked the particulars of poor Steel's life-it was the same as many others: he had been only thirty years in the service-and, having no interest, was likely to be thirty more without promotion. I urged him to go to the Admiralty, and show himself; and through my exertions he procured an interview with the First Lord. Steel mentioned the object of his visit, which was to be pronoted. The First Lord said, "Why, Mr. Steel, you are too old!" Steel modestly replied, "that it was not his fault that he was not promoted in earlier life.”"Oh!" retorted the First Lord, "then I was not in office." Steel was bowed out, and is not now a midshipman :--this happened seventeen years ago. It is now too late to serve him, who, if not dead, must be forgotten. Remember this, good reader--that the poor old man is not entitled to one farthing's half-pay the country have had his whole services, and now leave him to die in a poor-house! To the fortunate, there is no life like that of a sailor: -we roam the world at no expense; our libraries travel with us; and if we are not men of some research and some acquirements, it is through our own negligent idleness. We ought to be the best judges of human nature; we see the rich and gaudy of all climes, and all countries; we see the poor and miserable, from the wretches captured by our press-gang, to the ragged, squalid, famished beggar of South America. The gates of knowledge throughout the whole world are opened to us; but, I grieve to say, we slumber at the portals, or have hardly energy to enter. Some there are, and happy am I to bear witness to their talents-such are Parry, Franklin, Hall, Marryat, Glascock, Beaver, Beaufort, &c.;-these men have exalted our profession, and stamp the lie upon the assertion, "that sailors are fools." Who ought to be more entertaining than a sailor? Of every nation, of every clime he must have gleaned some anecdotes, some nationalities, and been witness to scenes to move the tenderest affections, or to quail the most stubborn of hearts. "I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and say 'all is barren.'" To a captain, all societies are open, all language is familiar: the man who has served years in the Mediterranean, must have picked up some Italian, some French, and some Spanish. I will admit, that during the war we were lamentably ignorant. When a prize was taken, or a vessel's papers to |