MONTHLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE AND ART. 



NAVAL SKETCH-BOOK. SECOND SERIES. 2 VOLS. LONDON. 

 WHITTAKER. 



CAPTAIN GLASCOCK is beyond all question the most sailor-like and 

 ship-shape of his numerous literary naval contemporaries. He does 

 not pretend, like too many of his cloth, to be an universal writer, and 

 sentimentize in especial buckram on shore, but upon his own element 

 he is assuredly lord-paramount, and none but he. He has an irre- 

 sistible fund of quaint drollery about him, such as is only to be met 

 with in the forecastle of a " real Trafflygar craft." The laced coat 

 and epauletted shoulder never peer forth with him. A close and 

 nervous observer of the sailor's character, he has limned his propen- 

 sities, feelings, and passions with the hand of a master, and from the 

 most trivial incidents often, indeed, from no incidents at all he has 

 drawn the most striking pictures. The best criterion of his power is, 

 perhaps, the avidity with which his works are read by the veriest 

 Johnny Raw of a landsman, who, although unable to comprehend the 

 abtruse technicalities of the cuddy and the orlop, feels the truth of 

 the description, as it were, intuitively. For the rest, he is a dashing 

 gallant fellow one of the very best officers in the " sarvus," and a 

 true sailor, every inch of him. We could add to his " Jack in Oporto" 

 several yarns reflecting the highest credit upon his judgment and 

 discretion while watching " that there Portingale ;" but he has been 

 modest on his own merits, and we will spare his blushes. 



So full of extractable matter is " The Naval Sketch-Book," that we 

 grow dainty of the endless .variety of piquant dishes presented to our 

 devotions. We would willingly, in fact, extract the whole book for 

 The Monthly amusement of our readers ; but though this might pos- 

 sibly be flattering enough to the gallant Captain gallant not by cour- 

 tesy it might just as possibly be unjust to the publisher. We will 

 for the present, therefore, content ourselves with the following cha- 

 racteristic little morceau, showing how Jack gammoned his metkody 

 captain. No landsman could have told this but all landsmen will 

 understand it : 



" ( You know/ says Jack, addressing one of his shipmates, ( you 

 know, bo, at three-bells every forenoon, there was beat to divisions and 

 muster prayer-books and bibles. As for myself, in the bible-business, I 

 managed the matter very well and moreover, with the skipper I was a bit 

 of a fancy-man for, you see my bible (as captain o' the mess) was always 

 kivered in baize nor never was opened, you know, nor pawed by tarry 

 paw There wasn't, no, not as much as the sign of a soil to be seen inside 

 or out The skipper reg'larly overhauled the books himself and one 

 morn, going round at divisions, I says to myself ' Come this is too bad, 

 by Joe ! Here's my bible's been bag'd in the baize three years and up- 

 wards, and the skipper's never once noticed the kelter she's in so here's try 

 him on a wind,' says I to myself ' Here she is, Sir,' says I, pulling out the 

 book from my green-baize bag just as he comes to my elbow * here she 

 is, Sir, just as clean, you see, as if she'd corned bran-new out o' the mint' 

 * That's a good man,' says the skipper, givin' me a friendly tap on the 

 shoulder ' that's a good man come down to my cabin,' says he, ' as soon 

 as divisions are over.' Well, as soon as the drum beats retreat, you may 

 well suppose I wasn't long divin' down to get my drop ; but when I enters 

 the cabin, there wasn't, no, not the sign of a glass to be seen There was 



