however, saved
everything. The cables were cut, the sweeps got out, and the Intrepid
drew rapidly away from the burning frigate. It was a magnificent
sight as the flames burst out over the Philadephia and ran rapidly and
fiercely up the masts and rigging. As her guns became heated they were
discharged, one battery pouring its shots into the town. Finally the
cables parted, and then the Philadelphia, a mass of flames, drifted
across the harbor, and blew up. Meantime the batteries of the shipping
and the castle had been turned upon the Intrepid, but although the
shot struck all around her, she escaped successfully with only one shot
through her mainsail, and, joining the Siren, bore away.

This successful attack was carried through by the cool courage of
Decatur and the admirable discipline of his men. The hazard was very
great, the odds were very heavy, and everything depended on the nerve
with which the attack was made and the completeness of the surprise.
Nothing miscarried, and no success could have been more complete.
Nelson, at that time in the Mediterranean, and the best judge of a naval
exploit as well as the greatest naval commander who has ever lived,
pronounced it "the most bold and daring act of the age." We meet no
single feat exactly like it in our own naval history, brilliant as that
has been, until we come to Cushing's destruction of the Albemarle in
the war of the rebellion. In the years that have elapsed, and among the
great events that have occurred since that time, Decatur's burning of
the Philadephia has been well-nigh forgotten; but it is one of those
feats of arms which illustrate the high courage of American seamen, and
which ought always to be remembered.

THE CRUISE OF THE "WASP"

A crash as when some swollen cloud
Cracks o'er the tangled trees!
With side to side, and spar to spar,
Whose smoking decks are these?
I know St. George's blood-red cross,
Thou mistress of the seas,
But what is she whose streaming bars
Roll out before the breeze?

Ah, well her iron ribs are knit,
Whose thunders strive to quell
The bellowing throats, the blazing lips,
That pealed the Armada's knell!
The mist was cleared,--a wreath of stars
Rose o'er the crimsoned swell,
And, wavering from its haughty peak,
The cross of England fell!
--Holmes.

In the war of 1812 the little American navy,