SIARRYAT'S PERCIVAL KEENE.

THIS fiction narrates, in an autobiographical form, the school and nautical life of the hero until his achievement of the dignity of Post Captain and his marriage. The father of Percival Keene is the Honourable Captain Delmar; his mother a sort of humble companion to a maiden aunt of the Captain, whom the Honour- able seduces, and marries to his valet Ben Keene. When of proper age, Percival Keene is taken to sea under the protection of his un- avowed father; and goes through a variety of adventures, until the author brings them to a close at the end of three volumes, by a wedding, a fortune, and the prospect of domestic happiness. The novel is readable, like all of MARRYAT'S productions; and as far as mere mechanical neatness of composition is concerned, it is equal to any of his former works : there is also a fair enough variety of incidents both on sea and shore : but there is no sub- stantial novelty of any kind ; and both in the peculiar humour of MARRTAT and in the general features of the novel—the story, cha- racters, and events—there are tokens of repetition. Percival Keene is the lees of Peter Simple. In both, the essential thought or theme is the same—the development of a youth's character by means of the naval service, and the knowledge of life which it al- most enforces, until, after passing through various grades and adventures, the hero is finally settled. Some of the adven- tures in both novels are counterparts. Peter Simple gives free- dom to his future wife and her father when he has taken them pri- soners: Percival Keene saves his future wife and her father from pirates, under circumstances much less natural and credible than the similar incident in the first novel. Peter Simple is thrown upon the Continent during the wars of Napoleon, and taken prisoner: an analogous incident, though less elaborately treated, occurs to the hero of the present fiction. The wreck of the frigate off the coast of Holland, in Percival Keene, is of a cognate character to the storm and club-hauling of the vessel in Peter Simple. A similar remark may be applied to the sea-fiaht in each novel, although the respective behaviour of the two officers is so different ; and other incidents could be pointed out, which are not changes, but merely inversions of original subjects. But if the form of Percival Keene is similar to that of Peter Simple, the general character is dif- ferent — mechanical, material, and low-toned. During young Keene's school-days at Chatham, there are some ludicrous incidents, as well as during his midshipman's life ; but they want the easy and racy humour of Peter Simple—anybody who had the knack could as well fill ten volumes as one with broad practical jokes, which derive such laughter-moving qualities as they have (and it is not much) from incident rather than character. The freshness, force, and vitality of Peter Simple, are wanting, as well as its truthfulness and " modesty of nature." Some of the adventures in Perciral Keene—as the whole of the midshipman's sojourn with the black pirates, including the roasting alive of the crew of a slaver—are of a more " striking " and melodramatic kind than any thing in Peter Simple; but their effect is not in propor- tion to their strangeness. 'I he wonderful doings of Mr. Keene, too, are more extraordinary than any corresponding exploits of Peter ; but his cleverness, his achievements, and his luck, are felt to be too unnatural to be received as a transcript of life. In short, apart from the interest of a story, Percival Keene owes its attraction to the author's experience of life and his truthful style of narration.

But this novel has a graver fault than we have yet mentioned, in its coarse morality. The levity with which the earlier transac- tions are narrated is not in good taste; but when it purports to be from a son coolly describing his mother's disgrace and his own illegitimacy, it becomes offensive. The conduct of Keene through- out is that of a cold, calculating, scheming, and thoroughly selfish adventurer, bent only upon getting his father to acknowledge him as his son. With this object, he pays a scrupulously servile atten- tion to a haughty, reserved libertine, who has not even the pleasantry of manner which sometimes gilds looseness of conduct ; whilst his behaviour to his mother is as overbearing as it is submissive to his father. As soon as he conjectures the secret, Master Keene writes to his mother to tell her he is the Captain's son ; though decency, to say nothing of affection, would have induced silence. He forces his mother to withdraw into privacy, and leave her sister and connexions, and next to pretend death, only because he thinks Captain Delmar is more likely to acknowledge him if he has not to acknowledge his connexion with her ; and all his exploits are prompted by a naked selfishness, or a species of art which though not without cleverness is generally the cleverness of a thieftaker or Old Bailey lawyer. Had Captain MARRYAT intended to write a novel like The Spanish Rog-ue, all this would have been in keep- ing; but Percival Keene is held up as rather a specimen of worth and sentiment, though his conduct is such that the reader has no sympathy with him from first to last. This feeling is inseparable from the character of the hero, but it is aggravated by the auto- biographical form, which does not admit of those explanations or softenings that can be thrown in by an impersonal writer. This defect is further increased by Captain MARRYAT not having always sustained the assumed person ; so that there is often the appear- ance of " old heads upon young shoulders "—which has a moral as well as a critical offensiveness. It is indeed probable that he began with a view of writing the story in the third person, and changed it into the first as he proceeded.

The incident or episode of most novelty is Percival's adventure with the pirate; though the idea seems to be derived (and by no

means improved) from some scenes in Tom Cringle's Log. Taken

prisoner, Pervical saves his life by his ready courage, which im- presses the pirate : promoted to the office of valet or body-servant, he has himself dyed black, that his colour may not offend the Negro captain, and gains his confidence by a mixture of heroism and currying favour. From this condition he is at last freed by the destruction of the pirate-ship ; a part of which scene is narrated in the following extract.

SEA-FIGHT AND EXPLOSION OF A PIRATE.

The Negroes now came into the cabin, for the after-magazine was under the fore part of it. The hatch was taken up, the screens let down, and all was dark. I had nothing to do but to catch now and then the commands given by the Negro captain, and draw my inference as to what was taking place. Although for the firet half-hour I gained little information, after that time had elapsed I knew what was going on. I beard a voice hailing us from another vessel, and the reply of the Stella was a broadside. There could be no mistake in that. The Stella was then put about, and the other broadside given without a return from her opponent. At last it came ; and as the shot whizzed over or tore up the planking of the gunwales, I certainly did feel very strangely. I had never been in action before ; and the sensation was, I confess, that of alarm ; but it was so mingled with curiosity as to what was going on, that it

was impossible to say what my feelings were. I longed to be on deck, and certainly would have been, if I had thought that I was safe with the pirate crew; that alone prevented me : I remained, therefore, in a most unpleasant state of ignorance and suspense.

The broadsides were now exchanged rapidly, and the wounded, brought down between decks every minute, told me that the action was severe. The orders of the Negro captain were occasionally heard : they were cool and determined. Every minute some fresh manceuvre was executed, and the guns still worked as if there was nothing else to attend to. At last the daylight came down the

hatchway, and I left the cabin and walked forward between decks : I found the deck strewed with wounded and dying men, calling for water. I was glad to be able to do soinething which I could consistently do, and I brought water from the cask and gave it to them, one after another, as fast as I could : I think

there were at least thirty men lying about the lower deck, some in pools of their own blood, and sinking fast, for there was no surgeon on board of the Stella.

Some more wounded men were brought down; and &conversation took place between one of the mates of the schooner, who was hurt, and the men who brought down the wounded ; and listening to them, I found that at daylight they had discovered that an English frigate was under all sail beating up to them, and about five miles to leeward; that in consequence, the Stella was now can, ing on a running fight with the schooner, (who was to windward of her,) and trying to escape. This accounted for the signals which I had perceived that the English schooner was making the evening before. My anxiety at this intelligence was naturally much increased. The Stella was trying to escape, and her sailing powers were so remarkable that I was afraid she would succeed.

The action was still continued between the two schooners; but now the shot no longer hit the Stella, nor were there any more wounded men brought down : it was evident that the two vessels were now firing at each other's masts and rigging, the one to prevent and the other to effect her escape by dismantling

her antagonist. I felt as if I could have given my left hand to have gone on

deck. I waited half an hour more, and then, curiosity conquering my fear, I crept gradually up the fore-ladder. The men were working the guns to wind- ward, the lee-aide of the deck was clear, and I stepped forward and got into the head, where I could see both to windward and to leeward. To leeward I perceived the frigate about four miles distant, with every stretch of canvass

that she could set on a wind : I knew her directly to be the Calliope, my own ship, and my heart beat quick at the chance of being once more on board of her.

To windward, as the smoke occasionally cleared away, I saw the Arrow schooner close-hauled on the same tack as the Stella, and distant about a mile, every ten seconds the smoke from her guns booming along the water's surface, and the shot whizzing through our rigging: she had not suffered much from our fire ; her sails were full of shot-holes, it is true, but her spars were not injured. I then turued my eyes upon the masts and rigging of the Stella: apparently, the damage done was about equal to that received by the Arrow; our sails were torn, but our spars were unscathed. The water was smooth although the breeze was fresh, and both schooners were running at the rate of six or seven miles an hour; but the Stella had evi- dently the advantage of sailing, and forereached upon her opponent. I per- ceived that every thing depended upon a lucky hit ; and having satisfied myself with what I had seen,1 hastened down below.

For more than half-au-hour the firing continued, without advantage on either side ; when a yell was given by the Negro crew, and I heard them cry on deck that the Arow's foretop-mast was shot away. I heard the voice of Vincent cheering his men, and telling them to be steady in their aim. My heart sunk at the intelligence, and I sat down on a chest. The firing now slackened, for the Stella had shot ahead of the English schooner ; and the Negroes on deck were laughing and in high good humour. For a few minutes the firing ceased altogether, and I took it for granted that the Stella had left her pursuers far behind ; when, of a sudden, a whole broad- side of guns were poured into us, and there was a terrible crashing and confu- sion on the deck.

I ran up the ladder to see what had happened. It appeared that as the Stella was crossing the bows of the Arrow, the latter had, as a last chance, thrown up in the wind, and discharged her whole broadside into us : two shots had struck our mainmast, which had fallen by the board. I perceived at once that the Stella's chance was over—nothing could save her ; she might re- sist the schooner, but could not escape the frigate.

I ran down below, and went into the cabin : I was afraid that the Negroes might perceive the joy in my countenance. I heard the angry voice ot the Negro captain ; I heard him stamping with rage ; and I thanked God that I was not by his side. The wreck of the mast was soon cleared away : I heard him address his Negroes, point out to them that it was better to die like men at the guns than swing at the yard-arm like dogs. Some of them came down, and took on deck a quarter-cask of spirits, which was plentifully supplied to all. The English schooner had borne down upon us, and the action now com- menced at pistol-shot. Never shall I forget what took place for nearly three- quarters of an hour : the Negroes, most of them intoxicated, fought with rage and fury indescribable ; their shouts, their screams, their cursing and blas- phemy, mingled with the loud report of the guns, the crashing of the spars and bulwarks, the occasional cry of the wounded, and the powerful voice of Vincent. It was terrific between decks : the smoke was so thick that those who came down for the powder could not see, but felt their way to the screen. Every two seconds I heard the men come aft, toss off the can of liquor, and throw it on the deck, when they went to resume their labour at their guns.

At the end of the time I have mentioned, the shot flew from to leeward as well as from to windward. The frigate had got within range, and was pouring in her broadside. Still the firing and the shouting on the deck of the Stella con- tinued; but the voices were fewer, and as the firing of the frigate became more severe they became fainter and fainter ; and at last but an occasional gun was fired from our decks.

I became so uneasy that I could remain where I was no longer: I went for- ward on the lower deck again, and tumbling over the wounded and the dead, I crept up the fore-ladder. I looked over the combings of the hatchway : the decks were clear of smoke, for not a gun was being fired. Merciful Heaven, what a scene of slaughter ! Many of the guns were dismantled, and the decks were strewed with the splinters and plankings of the gunwale, broken spare, and Negroes lying dead or drunk in all directions, some cut and torn to pieces, others whole but mixed up with the fragments of other bodies : such a scene of blood I have never since witnessed. Out of the whole crew, I do not think there were twenty men left unhurt ; and these were leaning or lying down, ex- hausted with fatigue or overcome with liquor, on various parts of the deck.

The fighting was over : there was not one man at his gun ; and of those who re- mained still alive, one or two fell while I was looking up, from the shot which con- tinued every minute to pierce the bulwarks. Where was Vincent ? I dare not go aft to see. I dare not venture to meet his eye. I dived down below again, and returned aft to the cabin. There was no more demand for powder ; not a soul was to be seen abaft. Suddenly the after-hatchway grating was thrown off : I heard some one descend; I knew it was the hurried tread of the Negro captain. It was so dark, and the cabin so full of smoke, that, coming from the light, he did not perceive me, although I could distinguish him. He was evidently badly wounded, and tottered in his walk: he came into the cabin, put his hand to his girdle, and felt for his pistol ; and then he commenced pulling down the screen which was between him and the magazine. His intentions were evident ; which were to blow up the vessel.

I felt that I had not a moment to lose. I dashed past him, ran up the ladder, sprung aft to the taffrail, and dashed over the stern into the sea. I was still beneath the surface, having not yet risen from my plunge, when I heard and felt the explosion ; felt it indeed so powerfully, that it almost took away my

senses; so great was the shock, even when I WWI under the water, that I WU

almost insensible. I have a faint recollection of being drawn down by the vortex of the sinking vessel, and scrambling my way to the surface of the

water amidst fragments of timbers and whirling bodies. When I recovered myself, I found that I was clinging to a portion of the wreck, in a sort of patch, as it were, upon the deep blue water, dark as ink, and strewed with splintered fragment&