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to verify all their statements upon oath. The commander published this counter-statement, wherein, among other things, he denies having con.. cealed his name or the name of the vessel, and calls such an accusation absurd, because the name was written in large letters on the ship's sternforgetting, the worthy man, that a darkness which hindered him from seeing the promontory of Dunnose, nearly eight hundred feet high, might excuse the men if they could not make out the ship's title, though written in letters one or even two feet long. My reverend friend prepared an answer to this unaccountable mistatement, and forwarded it for insertion in the next week's paper; but received in reply a private communication from the editor-a man of very considerable abilities and excellent character-suggesting that the more likely way of attaining his object, namely, some remuneration for the men, would be, not to continue the controversy, especially as the agent for the vessel had promised to see the matter satisfactorily arranged. From that hour to this the pockets of the above-named agent have been hermetically sealed; the commander goes on his way rejoicing; and the British merchants, in spite of the asseverations of Mr Bartley and others, content themselves with the outlay of the already mentioned ninepence, in the shape of six glasses of rum. Now this is pessimi exempli, and the fruits of this niggardliness were very soon after shown. One night, about six weeks afterwards, a great fire was perceived at sea. It was impossible it could be any thing else but a burning ship. The flame went on for hours flaring up against the sky, but not a soul would stir from shore to the rescue ;-alleging, as with one voice, that they had had enough to do with the other, and would never trouble themselves either with stranded vessels or burning ones. It turned out to be a steam-boat bound for Spain, which sank after burning to the water's edge. The crew, however, were saved.
You're very fond of mackerel; I recollect seeing you stow away sixteen soused in vinegar for luncheon, in less than twenty minutes. Early in the spring the mackerel season begins ; that is to say, many boats of a very
strange shape and rig are observed crowding down to meet the mackerel shoals at the chops of the Channel. As the mighty hosts of those "friendsɔ t the people" come further east, the number of vessels increases, till you may sometimes see eight or nine all together, and as their nets seem to be filled every time they haul, you would naturally expect that mackerel would be plentiful as blackberries-and so, indeed, they are, for blackberries are a rarity here. The monopolizing fish-dealers of Portsmouth and the other large towns on the coast, and, above all, of the omnivorous London, step in between you and your half-dozen mackerel, and neither love nor money can procure you a single scale, unless on the marble slab of the fishmonger. Would you believe it, that although the sea here is teeming with fish, and the purchase of boat, tackle, and a whole mile of net would not exceed £160, there is no regular mackerel boat belonging to this coast employed in the fishing? Why do not a few of the natives join, and procure a vessel and apparatus? The gains are enormous. Last summer one of the Brighton boats was fishing off this shore, and in one night caught fish which was sold to the salesmen in Portsmouth for £180. And this is not uncommon. The ordinary race of fishermen are too poor to undertake the first expense; but nothing would be more easy, nor a more judiciousnot charity, but-encouragement to deserving men, than for a certain number of gentlemen to advance the necessary funds, which one season's exertion would enable the fishermen to repay. Four fishermen and a steersman, which would constitute the crew, would be passing rich with such a possession. In Holland, the government would give all possible encouragement to such a scheme; and in Scotland, I feel sure, the funds would be supplied, the boat, &c., bought, the fish caught, and the debt discharged in the course of three months. But here there is a very migratory population, attracted from all parts of England by the mildness of the winter, and the beauty of the summer; they seldom settle long enough to become acquainted with the amphibious animals who inhabit little huts upon the shore, and supply them with delicious prawns and lobsters; and return to their own dwellings in
the neighbourhood of York or Worcester, to astonish their geological neighbours with their thunderbolts and fossils. And, in the mean time, the mackerel fall a prey to more enterprising piscators from Brighton and even Dover-not to mention France. I am really getting so dull and sensible, that I begin to be in hopes of re
covering my former reputation for sedateness and wisdom. In that case I will finish my "theory" next month, and shall be caught tripping no more. Meanwhile I remain-sparing you a flourish of complimentary trumpetsHANNIBAL SMITH. Leeward Cottage, Bonchurch.
The Lily leaveth the building-yard of Mr Burden of St Helen's, nearly a mile from the water, and is launched amid the uncorking of several greybeards, and the acclamations of the spectators.
'Twas a bright day, O Lily! when the song
O'er the high Bembridge barrier uncontroll'd.
TRIPS OF THE LILY OF BONCHURCH.
TRIP THE FIRST.
Wherein the Lily goes to Portsmouth in rough weather, and comports herself
THE moon looks wild, but heed it not, my boat is in the bay,
Off in a shower from her broad bows the baffled wave she throws,
Hurrah! the Yellow Ledge we've reach'd, and through the Race we drive, The breakers coil, and bubble, and hiss-the sea seems all alive;
But on she goes, my Lily fair, a queen o'er the wild sea,
It seems as if she loved the strife, so buoyant is her glee.
Now Shanklin bay is o'er our stern, its shore is foamy white,
* The Cook-a dangerous rock. When I asked my boatman why it was called the Cook, he said, "I don't know no reason for't, sir; but he makes the water boil, sure enough,"
NO. CCXCII. VOL. XLVII.
The wind is piping on our beam-it freshens to a gale;
Cheer up! the Lily loves the storm, spare not an inch of sail;
I'm prouder here her course to steer, and feel her 'neath me spring,
But Bembridge ledge we've weather'd close, and bright before us spread
Your flag has waved in every clime ;-where, wafted many a mile,
Pour'd ye the thunder of your power where bold St Vincent led?
Athwart the brine, in snowy line, on, on my Lily flies,
Oh! not more stately bounds the deer where Athole's forests rise
The harbour's mouth we've gain'd, my lads! down canvass! bear a hand; Quick! slack the sheets!-she touches now!-I spring on Portsmouth strand!
TRIP THE SECOND.
Wherein the Lily proceedeth in quest of what seemed from the Shore to be a Shipwrecked Mariner.
Night comes-and with mysterious The tempest downward rush'd at last,
While not a wave is stirr'd,
A voice, as if the storm unbound
Like eagle on its prey;
And struck the sea with pinions vast,