smates.

We were placed as one of the look-out frigates to watch the enemy's
vessels in Brest. The fleet was under the command of the brave and
persevering Earl St. Vincent, whose laws were those of the Medes and
Persians in days of yore. Implicit obedience and non-resistance was his
device, and woe to those who were disobedient. My messmates gave me the
outline of the captain's character. They informed me he was more cut out
for a country gentleman than the captain of a man-of-war, that he was very
partial to a good dinner--"Show me the man who is not," interrupted I;--that
he was highly nervous, and that he left everything to the first
lieutenant, except the discipline of his cook. "So be it," cried I, "I
think we shall accord." About ten days after being on board he sent for me
into his cabin. "Now," said he to me, "Mr. Hoffman, we have had time
enough to know each other. I approve of your method of carrying on the
duty, and from henceforth I shall consider you as sailing, and myself as
fighting, captain." I thanked him for the confidence he reposed in me, and
assured him that, being very partial to the profession, I never was
happier than when in the path of duty. He then mentioned he was not fond
of punishment with the cat. I informed him that, having been first
lieutenant for nearly three years of a former ship, I would submit to his
inspection a code of minor punishments which had proved beneficial to her
discipline. "Did you not use the cat at all?" demanded he. "Never,"
returned I, "except for theft, drunkenness at sea and intentional
disobedience of orders. On these occasions the punishment was severe, and
they very seldom happened."

When the wind was light, we generally anchored about two gun-shots from
the shore, and in the evening the crew danced or got up a kind of farce,
which was farcical enough. After seven long, lazy, tedious weeks, we were
ordered to Plymouth to refit. We flew like a shovel-nosed barge against
tide, and reached Hamoaze on the evening of the third day. Reader, I do
not know whether you were ever at Plymouth. If you have not, go there. It
is in a beautiful country, and very healthy. The people are very civil,
and until the taxes and poor rates became so high, were very hospitable.
Even in the poorest cottager's hut, if you happened to call at their
dinner-hour, you were invited, with a hearty "Do ye, God bless ye, sit
down and take some-at. There be more than we can eat." We frequently