RATTLIN . THE REEFER.

ON the titlepage this work professes to be only "edited" by Cap- tain MARRYST,aml this idea is enforced by a sidew Ind in the adver- tisement. The book itself, however, leaves liktle doubt of its pater- nity. It exhibits the humour, point, and terseness of the author of Peter Simple; his nice perception of character, and power of re- presenting it ; as well as his plain, but strong and truthful style of description and narrative, intermingled, occasionally, with sar- castic or sagacious reflection. But for these characteristics a doubt might have arisen. In some parts the author takes upon himself the function of a preacher ; in others of a moralist; anon he ventures on sentiment, or romance ; and once or twice rises into the lyrist. All these things are on the surface. If Rattlin the Reefer be examined with a close and a nice scrutiny, it will be found to bear a family likeness to its elder brethren—it is the same, yet another. The framework, like Jacob Faithful, Peter Simple, and Japhet in Search of a Father, is an autobiography ; and, like the heroes of those works, Rattlin is conducted through the adventures of youth and boyhood with no more essential variation than arises from the different nature of the scenes and incidents. As in Japhet, Rattlin is of mysterious birth; but, though his parents withdraw themselves from him, they still watch over, and in a certain degree influence his welfare, or try to advance his fortunes. Like Japhet, too, he has, though not so continuously, a faithful attendant ; and, like both Japhet and Peter, he finally attains his birthright; an illegitimate brother opposing Rattlin, as a supposititious son does Simple, and a sudden and violent death overtaking both. The' love differs from most novels. The hero does not marry, but grows into a sour humourist; whose last ex- ploit is to calculate the cost of his gamekeepers after a severe con- flict with poachers, dismiss them all, and give up his estate to the gang, on condition that they supply his table and allow no one to poach but themselves. The love-scenes are merely an episode,— Don Juan and Haidee transplanted to Aniana in the West Indies, but adapted to the soil with some skill, and much knowledge both of West Indian nature and character.

It will not surprise the narrow observer of the development of the minds of authors as shown in their successive works, to hear that in the general effect of the whole, as well as in the execution of parts, there is a falling off in Rattlin the Reefer. The mind, pregnant with the combined creations of observation, study, and genius, pours them out with a consistency, fulness, and fluency, which soon exhaust its spontaneous richness, unless the field of observation has been very extended, or the mind is of such bound- less fertility as distinguished the great English and Grecian dra- natic poets. In this case, if' the writer writes on, he may not, in an invidious sense, be driven to repeat himself, but he will be com- pelled to have recourse to his former leavings ; he will have to work-up matter which was thrown aside before, not as worthless, but as unfitting. In this process, more of the dexterityof practice, as well as of habitual skill, may be displayed ; but the dew has been dried upon the flower, the bloom has been wiped from the fruit, the cream has been skimmed : and all that remains to be said upon the present occssion is, that the skimmed milk of MARRY AT is better than the cream of many other people. As a novel, Rattlin the Reefer may be recommended for a story tolerably mysterious, with a catastrophe sufficiently involved, aid

an allusion to some gallantries of George the Fourth, which give

a kind of 'character and piquancy to some of its parts,—although the mere helluo of the circulating library will (erroneously) think their conclusion more commonplace than it ought to be. As a lite- rary work, the merit of Rattlin arises from its chapters of life and its portraits of characters; the first impressing a moral from the very reality with which they are displayed, the second touched off with a truth and spirit that place the person before us. Although there are some scenes and felicitous sketches of society, the chapters in life are but two. The first is a great boarding-

school, as boarding-schools were conducted some five-and-twenty or thirty years ago, with their young men pupils, their flogging, fagging, and fighting systems, their constant tyranny, their occa- sional rebellions, and their (not yet defunct) trading pedagogues.

The second is life in the Navy about the same period, as it -existed in all ranks, but chiefly amongst midshipmen. In this section, we have not the humours or the inspiring character of the service, as shown in Peter Simple; or its excitement and romance, as in Tom Crtngle's Log; but its hard, coarse, and commonplace points; whence, of necessity, there arises less of amusement and

interest, albeit not divested of the latter quality, from the stern truth of the description. The characters are not very numerous, but they are very good. First in the order of time, we have the good-natured, selfish, tyrannical, hard-working, hard-drinking Joe Brandon, the top-sawyer ; a capital portrait of a first-rate workman in prosperous times. Next, there is Old Ford—forcible, but somewhat forced, and a slight indication of a hypocritical Methodist deluder of a fanatical congregation. Then comes a full-length portrait of Mr. Roots; • an ignorant, pompous, ca- pricious, and cruel master of a boarding-school; with one or two sketches of ushers. After these, we get on ship-board; where the persons are mostly characteristic and faithful, (though perhaps heightened,) from the finished picture of Captain Rend down to the faint pen-and-ink-drawn features of the petty officers and seamen.

Of the scenes, many will be attractive to the reader; but the quality of the best is characteristic truth. The following is of this description, though its merit can hardly be appreciated with- out having read a considerable part of the book. Rattlin is a general favourite, especially with the Captain ; who has not only as great a personal regard for him as he can have for any one, but believes him the son of a " personage ; " whilst the love affair, at Aniana, excited so great a sympathy in the ship that it was never hinted at. Yet mark how soon regard for others gives way to the hardening effects of professional selfishness. It is a dark, cold, misty night : the frigate is convoying merchantmen up Channel.

On she dashed, and our anxious eyes saw nothing, whilst our minds feared greatly : she is at her utmost speed. In her reckless course she seems suffi- ciently powerful to break up the steadfast rock, or tear the shoal from its routs at the bottom of the ocean. On she rushes ! I think I hear faintly the mer- chant cry of " Yeo—yo—yeo !" but the roar of the vexed waters beneath our bows and the eternal singing of the winds through the frost-stiffened shrouds, prevent my being certain of the fact. But, I tremble excessively—when be- hold, a huge long black mass is lying lazily before us, and so close that we can almost touch it !

" Ilard a-port," I roared out at the very top of my voice. " Hard a-starboard," sang out the captain of the forecastle, equally loudly. Vain, vain, were the contradictory orders. The frigate seemed to leap at the object before her as at a prey ; and dire was the crash that ensued. As we may suppose the wrathful lioness springs upon the buffalo, and, meeting more resistance front its homy bulk than she had suspected, recoils and makes ano- ther spring, so did the Eos strike, rebound, then strike again: I felt two dis- tinct percussions.

The second stroke divided the obstacle; she passed through it or over it, and the eye looked in vain for the vast West Indianian, the bearer of wealth, and gay hopes, and youth, and infancy, manly strength, and female beauty. There was a smothered feminine shriek, bushed by the whirling and down-absorbing waves almost as soon as made. It was not loud, but it was fearfully distinct, and painfully human. One poor wretch only was saved, to tell her name and speak of tie perished. As usual, they had kept but a bad look-out. Her officers and her passen- gers were making merry in the cabin ; the wine-cup was at their lips, and the song was floating joyously from the mouths of the fair ones returning to the land of their nativity. The blooming daughters, the newly-marded wife, and two matrons with their innocent ones beside them, were all in the happiness of their hopes, when the Destroyer was upon them suddenly., truly like a strong man in the darkness of night ; and they were all hurled, in the midst of their uncensurable revelry, to a deep grave, over which no tombstone shall ever tell. " of their whereabout."

Our own jib-boom was snapped off short, and as quickly as is a twig in frosty weather. Supposing the ship had struck, every soul rushed on deck. They thanked God it was only the drowning of some forty fellow creatures and the destruction of a fine merchant-ship. We hauled the single poor fellow that was saved on board. The consternation among the officers was very great. It• blew too hard to lower the boats: no effort was or could be made to rescue any chance struggler not carried down in the vortex of the parted and sunken ship—all was blank horror. Besides the consternation and dismay natural to the appalling accident, there was the fear of the underwriters, and of the owners, and of damages, before the eyes of the captain. I was sent for aft.

" I had not the charge of the deck," said Captain Reud, looking fiercely at- the first lieutenant. "r../am not responsible fur this lubberly calamity." " I had not the charge of the watch or the deck either," said Mr. Farmer in his turn, looking at small Mr. Pond, who was looking aghast; " surely, I can- not be held to be responsible." • ' But you gave orders, sir. I heard you myself give the word to raise the fore-tack : that looks very like taking charge of the deck. No, no, lam not responsible."

" Not so fast, not so fast, Mr. Pond. I only assisted you for the good of the service, and to save the foresail."

Mr. Pond looked very blank indeed, until he thought of the master, and then he recovered a great portion of his usual vivacity. Small men are always vivacious.

" No, no, I am not responsible ; I was only working the ship under the directions of the master. Head the night orders, Mr. Farmer."

" The night orders be d--d !" said the gruff old master.

" I will nut have my night orders d--," said Reud. " You and the officer of the watch must share the responsibility between you."

" No offence at all, sir, to you or the night orders either. I inn heartily sorry I d--d them—heartily; but, in the matter of wearing this here ship precisely at that there time, I only acted under the pilot, who has charge till we are se- curely anchored. Surelye, I can't be 'sponsible." " iVell," said the pilot, "here's a knot of tangled rope-yarn; but that yarn wo'nt do for old Weatherbrace ; for, d'ye see, I'm a Sea William (civilian), and- not in no ways under martial law; and I'm only aboard this here craft air respects shoals and that like—I'm clearly not 'sponsible! nothing to do in the varsal world with working her : 'sponsible! pooh ! why did ye not keep a. better look-out for'ard?"

" Why, Mr. Rattlin, why ?" said the captain, the first lieutenant, the lieu- tenant of the watch, and the master.

" I kept as good a one as I could ; the lanterns were over the bows." " You may depend upon it," said the captain, " that the matter will not be permitted to rest as it is. The owners and underwriters will demand a court of inquiry. Mr. Rattlin had charge of the forecastle at the time. Mr. Rattlin, come here, sir. You sang out, just before this calamity happened, to port the helm."

" I did, sir."

Quartermaster," continued Reed, 4, did you port the helm? Novo mind what you Bay; did you, sir ? because if you did not, six dozen." " We did, sir—hard a-port."

" And the ship immediately after struck ?"

" Yes, sir."

" Pooh ! the case is clear ; we need not talk about it any longer. A clear ease, Mr. Farmer. Mr. Itattlin has charge of the forecastle—he descries a vessel a-head—he takes upon himself to order the helm a-port, and we run over and sink her accordingly. He is responsible, clearly."

" Clearly," was the answering echo from all the rejectors of responsibility.

"Mr. Itattlin, I am sorry for you. I once thought you a promising young man ; but since your desertion at Aniana—we must not mince matters now— you have become quite an altered character. You seem to have lost all zeal for the service. Zeal for the service is a thing that ought not to be lost ; for a young gentleman without zeal for the service is a young gentleman, surely—you understand me—who is not zealous in the performance of his duty. I think I have made myself tolerably clear. 1)o you think, sir, that I should hold now the responsible commission I do hold under his Majesty, if I had been without zeal for the service? I am sorry that I have a painful duty to perform. I must place you under an arrest, till I know what may be the Port-Admiral's pleasure concerning this unpleasant business; for—for the loss of the Mary Anne of Lon- don you are clearly responsible." "Clearly," (omnes rursus). " Had you sung out hard a-starboard, instead of hard a-port, the case might have been different."

" Clearly." "Go down below to your berth, and consider yourself a prisoner. The young gentlemen in his Majesty's service are not permitted to run down West India- men with impunity."

" Clearly."

In these kind of capstan-head court-martials, at which captains will sometimes administer reefers' law, " Wo to the weakest !" A defence was quite a work of superfluity ; so, consoling myself with the vast responsibility with which, all at once, I finind myself invested, I went and turned ru, anathematizing every cre- ated timing above an inch high and a foot below the same dimensions. How- ever, in a very sound sleep I soon forgot every thing—even the horrible scene I had just witnessed.

The execution of Rattlin the Reefer is inferior to most of MAR- RYAT'S later novels. This fault displays itself chiefly in an en- deavour to make words do the duty of matter. Small critics may also amuse themselves in detecting sundry chronological and other inconsistencies of fact,—slips which would detract nothing from the interest of the novel, but which indicate haste or impatience in the writer.