SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

Names'. Aoviirroas.

Ned Myers; or A Life Before the Mast. Edited by J. Fenimore Cooper In two volumes Bentley.

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE,

The Life and Literary Remains of Charles Reece Pemberton. With Remarks on his Character and Genius, by W. J. Fox. Edited by John Fowler. Secretaly of the Sheffield Mechanics Institution Per Tux ANIMALS,

The American in Paris during the Summer ; being a Companion to the " Winter in

Paris;" or Heath's Picturebque Annual. for 1894. By M. Jules Jattio. Illudneted by eighteen Engravings, from Designs by M. Eugene Lami.....Longrnan and Co. The Keepsake, for 1844. Edited by the Countess of Blessingtou.. Longman and CO. Heath's Book or Beauty, 1894. With beautifully•fini,hed engravings from draw- ings by the first arti,ts. Edited by the Countess of Blessington .Longman and Co Forget Me Not; a Christmas, New-Year's, and Birthday Present, for 1844. Edited b. Frederick Shubert Aches-mean and Co. Fisher's Drawingroom Scrap-Book. 1844. By the Author of " The Women or England." Fisher and Co. The Juvenile Scrap-Book. By the Author of "The Women of England." 1844.

Mher and Co.

NED MYERS; OR A LITE BEFORE THE MAST.

Tan work professes to be, and no doubt is, the autobiography of a seaman, written by Mr. COOPER from the narrative of the hero, NED MYERS. The circumstances which led to it are these. In 1806, Mr. COOPER, previous to entering the American navy, made a voyage in a merchant-vessel, to get some practical knowledge; which was then the fashion. On this occasion he had Nan MYERS for a ship-mate ; when the voyage ended they separated, and never but once met again till about twelve months ago. What Mr. COOPER has done during those six-and-thirty years is pretty widely known. Poor NED MYERS, though not devoid of natural ability, and with both good luck and opportunity of advancement, had left off the world as he began it, a foremast-man. He had risen once or twice as high as a mate; but his temper, his passions, or his negligence, threw him back again, till, disabled by an acci- dent, and with a public pension for wounds, he got admission into "Sailor's Snug Harbour." Here he heard that his first captain, with whom he and COOPER made their voyage, was living; and he paid him a visit. The talk fell upon old times: NED expressed his opinion that COOPER of Cooperstown, the author of the Naval Tales and the Naval History, was the same COOPER that had made the voyage of 1806 to London in the Sterling. The captain thought not ; but NED determined to ascertain the fact, and wrote direct to Cooperstown to make the inquiry. In reply, he received an answer beginning "I am your old ship-mate, Ned." The result was an interview when Mr. Coors)/ came to New York, and an invitation to visit him at Cooperstown. Thither NED went ; and, giving his old ship-mate an account of his career since they parted, the author pronounced that it would be worth while to publish it ; to which NED consented if his ship-mate would find the writing. Hence the origin of these volumes; respecting which Mr. COOPER observes, in his preface— "The writer has the utmost confidence in all the statements of Ned, so far as intention is concerned. Should he not be mistaken on some points, he is an exception to the great rule which governs the opinions and recollections of the rest of the human family. Still, nothing is related that the writer has any reasons for distrusting. In a few instances he has interposed his own greater knowledge of the world between Ned's more limited experience and the narrative ; but this has been done cautiously, and only in cases in which there can be little doubt that the narrator has been deceived by appearances, or misled by igno- rance. The reader, however, is not to infer that Ned has no greater informa- tion than usually falls to the share of a fore-mast hand. This is far from being the case. When first known to the writer, his knowledge was materially

above that of the ordinary class of lads in his situation. • • •

"In this book, the writer has endeavoured to adhere as closely to the very language of his subject, as circumstances will at all allow ; and in many places he feels confident that no art of his own could in any respect improve it."

There can be no doubt, we think, that Mr. Coorifit decided rightly in saying that the adventures of NED MYERS were worth preserving. It is probable enough that many fore-mast men of his age have gone through greater hardships, more stirring scenes, and been present at more important events ; and yet that their story, in despite of its romance, would be deficient in the interest attaching to the one before us. Part of this interest arises from the charac- ter of the man—impassioned, wild, and reckless ; not devoid of reason or a desire of bettering his condition, yet allowing accident, disappointment, or any offence, to overcome these faculties ; whilst his early education, and his association in boyhood with persons of a superior condition, raise his general conduct, though no particu- lar display of scholarship or gentility ever appears. But another source of interest is in the breadth of the character—however indi- vidual NED MYERS may be, he is the type of the tar. Brave, labo- rious, enduring or enjoying to day, and thoughtless of tomorrow, he is perhaps as true a generic delineation of the fore-mast man as was ever painted ; though deficient in the grotesque humour or rich fun which belongs or belonged to the English Jack. It is the artistical feature of the personal with the breadth of the professional charac- ter which might throw a doubt on the question of fact or fiction. The method of treatment is what Mr. COOPER would adopt on a similar theme : but it seems difficult to imagine that any novelist producing a fiction would introduce so many minutise of common truths, or avoid the temptation of connecting his hero with histori- cal events, or even introducing their larger features when thrown in his way, instead of confining every thing with rigid strictness to the fore-mast man.

According to his own account, or rather to Mr. COOPER'S infe- rence, NED MYERS was the illegitimate son of an officer, apparently a German, serving with the Duke of KENT at the time that Prince was in Canada ; where NED was born. From the statement of his sister and his own understanding, Prince EDWARD stood god- father to him, and noticed him a good deal in early boyhood. On the regiment quitting Nova Scotia, Nan and his sister were left in the charge of a clergyman at Halifax ; where he was sent to a day- school. But the restraint of a regular house and school discipline, with possibly a touch of severity in it, became first distasteful and then unbearable. In short, Ned ran away, secreting himself on board a vessel to the States; and, after several incidents that give an idea of colonial manners, bound himself apprentice to the master of the ship in which he and COOPER sailed together. Henceforth his life was that of a sailor' serving, according to Dr. JOHNSON'S de- • finition of the world, "from China to Peru." Sometimes he was in the merchant, sometimes in the State navy ; and in the East Indies, he was for a short time in the British mercantile marine, bearing a part in opium-smuggling. During his service of more than thirty years, he had an ample share of hardships to be borne, with no small amount of money to be wasted in a " land- cruise"; but the two largest incidents are his engagement on the Canada Lakes during the last American war and his subsequent adventures as a prisoner to the British. The attraction of the book, however, lies less in mere incident than in its pictures of every-day nautical life, and in the biographical interest attached to MYERS. As we have more than once mentioned the hero's wild and im- passioned temperament, it is proper to add, that on his last voyage to the East, when verging towards his fiftieth year, he met with an accident that severely injured the hip-joint: the extent of the injury was not at first known ; but as the pain was excessive' NED unable to move, and their destination Batavia, the idea of death was constantly present to his mind, and the issue a conversion; towards which, indeed, our hero was more than once inclined before when he had heard a powerful sermon, but the old Adam tri- umphed as long as be had activity and strength. It has been seen that Mr. COOPER states he has adhered as closely as possible to the language of the original : and such is un- doubtedly the character of the composition. Every thing is clear, plain, and homely ; sometimes only redeemed from baldness by an under-current of character and earnest truth, sometimes rising with the occasion to considerable power and effect, which originate in the subject, not in the composition. It is, in short, just the sort of book a man like MYERS may be supposed to have written, could he have been suddenly endowed with the power of readily expressing his ideas in a literary form, but without the ambition of fine writing. Mr. COOPER, however, is entitled to the merit of preserving these characteristics of his original; • which, indeed, no one but an ex- perienced nautical writer could have done.

The campaign or cruise on the Lakes—for it united the two— gives a good idea of war as it appears to the private ; who is too excited during action to attend to any thing but his own business, and has not sufficient speculation to ponder on its results. This is one of the common enough incidents, though never gazetted.

THE DYING SOLDIER.

AS we left the hospital, we agreed to get a canteen a-piece, and go round among the dead, and fill them with Jamaica. When our canteens were about 'a third full, we came upon a young American rifleman, who was lying under an apple-tree. He was hit in the need, and was in a very bad way. We were all three much struck with the appearance of this young man; and I now re- member him as one of the handsomest youths I had ever seen. His wound did not bleed, though I thought the brains were oozing out ; and I felt so much sympathy for him that I washed his hurt with the rum. I fear I did him harm, but my motive was good. Bill Southard ran to find a surgeon, of whom several were operating out on the field. The young man kept saying, "No use!" and he mentioned "father and mother,' "Vermont." He even gave me the names of his parents; but I was too much in the wind, from the use of rum, to remember them. We might have been half an hour with this young rifleman, busy on him most of the time, when be murmured a few words, gave me one of the sweetest smiles I ever saw on a man's face, and made no more signs of life. I kept at work, notwithstanding, until Bill got back with the doctor. The latter cast an eye on the rifleman, pronounced him dcad, and coolly walked away.

The following looks prodigal and absurd ; but it is possible that the confinement and discipline of a long voyage render some strong change constitutionally necessary on landing. It is true that officers here and there, and most passengers, do not indulge in similar excesses; but something is to be allowed for the difference in their modes of relaxation, and a good deal for their having an object on shore.

SAILORS ASHORE.

As soon as we got pratique, Mallet, Barnet, and myself, went up to town to look after our affairs, leaving the brig below. The owners gave us thirty dollars each, to begin upon. We ascertained that our landlord had received our wages from Government, and held it ready for us, sailor fashion. I also sold my share in the Venus' voyage for one hundred and twenty dollars. This gave me, in all, about five hundred dollars; which money lasted me between five and six weeks. How true is it that "sailors make their money like horses and spend it like asses!" I cannot say this prodigal waste of my means afforded me any substantial gratification. I have experienced more real pleasure from one day passed in a way of which my conscience could approve, than from all the loose and thoughtless follies, in which I was then in the habit of indulging when ashore, of a whole life. The manner in which this hard-earned gold was thrown away, may serve to warn some brother tar of the dangers that beset me, and let the reader understand the real wants of so large a body of his fellow-creatures. On turning out in the morning, I felt an approach to that which seamen call the "horrors," and continued in this state until I had swallowed several glasses of rum. I had no appetite for breakfast, and life was sustained principally by drink. Half of the time I ate no dinner, and when I did it was almost 'drowned in grog. Occasionally I drove out in a coach or a gig, and generally bad something extra to pay for damages. One of these cruises cost me forty • dollars, and I shall always think I was given a horse that sailed crab-fashion, on purpose to do me out of the money. At night, I generally went to the play, and felt bound to treat the landlord and his family to tickets and refresh- ments. We always had a coach to go in, and it was a reasonable night that cost toe only ten dollars. At first I was a sort of" king among beggars"; but as the money went, .Ned's importance went with it, until, one day, the virtuous landlord intimated to me that it would be well, as I happened to be sober, to overhaul our accounts. He then began to read front his books, ten dollars for this, twenty dollars for that, and thirty for the other, until I was soon tired, and wanted to know bow much was left. I had still fifty dollars, even accord- ing to his account of the matter ; and as that might last a week with good management, I wanted to hear no more about the items.

The following is one of the nautical scenes, where the event itself, without any assistance from the writing, rises into a perfect piece of marine painting.

A LINER PASSING UP CHANNEL IN A STORM.

I have seldom known it to blow harder than it did that night ; and for hours every thing depended on the main-topsail's standing, which sail we had set, close-reefed. I did not see any thing to guide us but the compass, until about ten o'clock,when I caught a view of a light close on our lee-bow. This was the Eddystone ; which stands pretty nearly in a line between the Start and the Lizard, and rather more than three leagues from the land. As we headed, we might lay past, should every thing stand ; but if our topsail went, we should have been pretty certain of fetching up on those famous rocks, where a three- decker would have gone to pieces in an hour's time in such a gale. I suppose we passed the Eddystone at a safe distance, or the captain would not have attempted going to windward of it ; but to me it appeared that we were fearfully near. The sea was breaking over the light tremen- dously, and could be plainly seen as it flashed up near the lantern. We went by, however, surging slowly ahead, though our drift must have been very material.

The Start, and the point to the westward of it, were still to be cleared. They were a good way off, and but a little to leeward, as the ship headed. In smooth water, and with a whole-sail breeze, it would have been easy enough to lay past the Start, when at the Eddystone, with a South-west wind ; but in a

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gale t is a serious matter, especially on a flood-tide. I know all hands of us forward and aft, looked upon our situation as very grave. We passed several uneasy hours, after we lost sight of the Eddystone, before we got a view of the land near the Start. When I saw it, the heights appeared like a dark cloud hanging over us, and I certainly thought the ship was gone. At this time, the captain and mate consulted together; • and the latter came tons in a very calm, steady manner, and said—" Come, boys, we may as well go ashore without masts as with them, and our only hope is in getting more canvass to stand. We must turn-to and make sail on the ship."

Everybody was in motion on this hint; and the first thing we did was to board fore-tack. The dews of that sail came down as if so many giants had hold of the tack and sheet. We set it, double-reefed; which made it but a rag of a sail, and yet the ship felt it directly. We next tried the fore-topsail, close-reefed; and this stood. It was well we did, for I feel certain the ship was now in the ground-swelL That black hill seemed ready to fall on our heads. We tried the mizen-topsail, but we found it would not do; and we furled it again, not without great difficulty. Things still looked serious, the land drawing nearer and nearer ; and we tried to get the main-sail, double. reefed, on the ship. Everybody mustered at the tack and sheet, and we drag- ged down that bit of cloth as if it had been muslin. The good ship now quivered like a horse that is over-ridden : but in those liners every thing is strong; and every thing stood. I never saw spray thrown from a ship's bows as it was thrown from the Erie's that night. We bad a breathless quarter of an hour after the main .sail was set, everybody looking to see what would go first. Every rope and bolt in the craft was tried to the utmost ; but all stood ! At the most critical moment, we caught a glimpse of a light in a house that was known to stand near the Start ; and the mate came among us, pointed it out, and said, if we weathered that, we should go clear. After hearing this, my eyes were never off that light ; and glad was I to see it slowly drawing more astern, and more under our lee. At last we got it on our quarter, and knew that we had gone clear. The gloomy-looking land disappeared to leeward, in a deep, broad bay, giving us plenty of sea-room.

EFFECTS OF DISCIPLINE.

It is the restraint of a ship that alone prevents sailors from dying much sooner than they do ; for it is certain no man could hold out long who passed three or four months every year in the sort of indulgences into which I have often run after returning from long voyages. This is one advantage of the navy ; two or three da)s of riotous living being all a fellow can very well get in a three-years cruise. Any man who has ever been in a vessel of war, particularly in old times, can see the effect produced by the system and regular living of a ship. When the crew first came on board, the men were listless, almost lifeless, with recent dissipation—some suffering with the "horrors," perhaps ; but a few weeks of regular living would bring. them all round; and by the end of the cruise, most of the people would come Into port, and be paid off, with renovated constitutions. It is a little different now, to be sure, as the men ship for general service, and commonly serve a abort apprenticeship in a receiving-vessel before they are turned over to the sea-going craft. This brings them on board the last in a little better condition than used to be the case ; but even now, six months in a man-of-war is a new lease for a seaman's rife.

THOUGHTS WHEN DRIFTING AND LASHED ON.

Night brought no change, unless it was to diminish the force of the wind. A short time before the sun set, one of the Negroes said to me, "Masses Ned, John gone." I was forward of the two Blacks, and was not looking at them at the time ; I suppose I may have been dozing; but, on looking up, I found that one of the Negroes had indeed disappeared. How this happened I cannot say, as he appeared to he well lashed ; but I suppose he worked himself' free, and being exhausted, be fell into the water and sunk before I could get a glimpse of him. There was nothing to be done, however; and the loss of this man had a tendency to make me think our situation worse than it had before seemed to be. Some persons—all good Christians, I should suppose—will feel some curiosity to know whether a man in my situation had no disposition to take a religious view of his case, and whether his conscience did not apprise him of the chances of perdition that seemed to stare him in the face. In answer to this, I am compelled to say that no such thoughts came over me. In all my risks and emergencies, I am not sensible of having given a thought to my Maker. I had a sense of fear, an apprehension of death, and an M- stinctive desire to save my life, but no consciousness of the necessity of calling on any being to save my soul. Notwithstanding all the lessons I had received in childhood, I was pretty nearly in the situation of one who bad never beard the name of the Saviour mentioned. The extent of my reflections on such subjects was the self-delusion of believing that I was to save myself. I had done no great harm, according to the notions of sailors—had not robbed, had not murdered, and had observed the mariner's code of morals so far as I understood them ; and this gave me a sort of claim on the mercy of God. In a word, the future condition of my soul gave me no trouble whatever.