To swell on deck his levee, and implore
A good keg of ten gallons, less or more.
Onward they come, like an impetuous stream
Glistening beneath the summer's radiant beam;
And full the murmur of their rushing course,
As their own Niagara's torrent hoarse.
High waves their flag, that gorgeously displays
The sapphire's azure, and the ruby's blaze:
And as around a flame the banner pours,
On new-plum'd wings the Roman eagle soars,*
Who, crown'd with recent conquest, to the sky
Directs his grateful, bright, rekindling eye.

2790

The generous monarch rose-and, at the sight,
He look'd-he smil'd ineffable delight-
Then spoke with transport, as in order'd rows,
The tars fall back, and one deep file compose.
Gods! what a noble crew! the warlike throng
That plough'd the Euxine to the harp and song,
Must yield to these! let any of them keep
The helm, and safe the ship mounts o'er the deep.
Yard-arm to yard-arm, with their guns run out,
These lads would make the splinters fly about;
Work for the cockpit! many a doleful yell
Would issue where their grape and chain-shot fell.

*The American standard is surmounted by an eagle, in emulation of Roman fame.

Full many a noble mariner is here!

2810

Shipmates, all hail! what cheer, my sons, what cheer? How fare ye, boys?-is your grog-tackle right? Your jib-stays, seamen! are they bows'd up tight? Then thus Bill Breeze, the spokesman of the band, Twirling his tar'd hat in his better hand:

2815

Bad cheer, your honour, leeward is our plight,
Our unbows'd stays all hanging in a bight,
And hence we hither come, a suffering train,
Redress to ask the sovereign of the main.
Then the king thus: O you old swab-fac'd dog,
I guess'd your mission was a tub of grog:
What countryman art thou? where truly bred?
At Portsmouth born, you hail from Marble head !*

So great is the similarity between the ships and crews of the two nations, that during the late war, some ludicrous mistakes were the consequence. In February, 1815, as Sir George Collier, with his squadron, was cruizing for the Constitution, a brig hove in sight which he suspected to be a captured British merchantman, and he hoisted the American flag on board his own ship the Leander. She proved to be the John of Liverpool, a prize to the Perry, privateer; and the prize-master, a full-blooded yankee, tossed out his boat, and without any hesitation went on board the British man of war. The moment Jonathan got upon deck, he congratulated the officers on the squadron being at sea, and in a condition to do a tarnation deal of mischief to the d-d English sarpents, and play the devil's game with their rag of a flag. He then walked up to Sir George Collier, and, to the extreme amusement of every one on board, making a profound bow, addressed him as Commodore Decatur; adding that he knew his ship, the President, the moment he saw her, and that Nick himself could not deceive him. Sir George smiled complacently,

Ꮮ

The tar replied: truth is my soul's delight-
At Stony Point* I first beheld the light.

2825

Humph! Stony Point? its bearings, friend, impart The place was never mark'd upon the chart.

Your pardon, Sir,-on father's map at home,
It makes a figure great as ancient Rome-

I thought, an please you, on my candid word, 2830
That all the world of Stony Point had heard!
'Tis on the Hudson, where our General Wayne
Surpriz'd the warrior Johnson and his train;
When neither moon, nor star, afforded light,
A yankey trick he play'd them in the night.

2835

and pointing to the Acasta, asked if he knew her; his reply was that she was the Macedonian; and when asked what the Newcastle was, he said that he could not positively determine, but guessed she was the Constitution, though not painted as when last at Boston. Jonathan then entreated to be supplied with a keg of molasses, and, on being told there was none to spare, made another low reverence, wished Commodore Decatur a good voyage, and took his leave with great apparent satisfaction; when the first Lieutenant, to his unspeakable horror and consternation, undeceived him as he halloed for his boat at the gangway.

Stony Point is a post on the east bank of the river Hudson, opposite Verplank's Point. During the revolutionary war it was taken by the British; but surprized and recovered soon after in a night-attack (July 15, 1779) by General Wayne, who made prisoners of the whole garrison, consisting of five huodred men, with their commanding officer Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson.

My father was a fisherman, old Bill,

Who taught me young a sail to jibe and fill.
When but a nursling I was set afloat,

And knew no other dwelling than a boat,

Scarce higher than the thwart, I ply'd an oar, 2840 And help'd to dredge along the rocky shore.*

I like thy look-all flattery apart

Who sees thy countenance may read thy heart.
Declare thy station, sailor, and thy name,
Hast thou in battle won a warrior's fame?

My name is Breeze-and, in a heavy gale,
Bill is the first aloft to furl the sail.
For sailor's rights, on board old Iron-sides,
I work'd at single wages, double tides-

2845

The Quarterly Reviewers, after having very gravely assured their readers that the Americans have no southern ports (Vol. 21, p. 15), peremptorily assert that, in the event of a rupture with Britain, the largest fleet they could equip in the only ports which will ad-mit it, might be very leisurely destroyed before hands could be brought together to man it. This is ominous infatuation: quos Deus vult perdere prius dementat. The domestic fisheries being suspended, their countless fishermen would be transmuted by war, as quickly as by a charm, into crews for the largest fleets, without the rigour of a conscription; and an appeal lies to the evidence of facts, that there is a delicacy in attacking American ships of war in their own ports. Commodore Decatur's two frigates and a brig were blockaded in New London harbour, month after month, by squadrons that relieved each other as provisions became short, without a single attempt being made to destroy them.

When the black Guerriere found our tier too hot,
Bill was at quarters ramming home his shot;
And when the Java lay a rolling wreck,
A raking gun he pointed o'er her deck.

Knew you Decatur, whose exalted name
Glory on golden pinions wafts to fame!

An please you, if you mean the commodore,
With him I battled on the Barbary shore.*

2855

It is a prevailing opinion that the Navy of the United States was called into existence by the late war; but the fact is, that hostilities against the Barbary powers first conferred on it a character. The shores of the Mediterranean resounded with the broadsides of the American frigates long before the capture of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, and the Java; and the successes of Hull, Decatur, and Bainbridge were not the effect of an untried energy. These men had served as subalterns under Preble, the father of the American navy; and acts of heroism were achieved by his officers and tars that are only not generally known, carent quia vate sacro, because they have never been ably recorded. The Philadelphia frigate commanded by Bainbridge, having grounded, and been taken possession of by the Turks, Lieutenant Decatur undertook, with the boats of the squadron, to cut her out from under the batteries of Tripoli ;-boarded her with matchless valor, exposed to the red-hot shot of a formidable range of forts; -slew the turbanned chief, fighting hand to hand on the quarterdeck, and succeeded in hoisting the stars over the crescent. In this ever memorable enterprize, three young American Lieutenants, Somers, Wadsworth, and Israel, emulated the patriotic spirit of a Leonidas; for, the fire-ship which they conducted, becoming, by some reverse of wind or tide, surrounded by an overwhelming Turkish flotilla, these gallant youths, preferring death to surrender, blew themselves up in the air. A monument, executed in Italy, has been erected to their memory at Washington.