Captain NICHOLAS TOMLINSON, the third son of Captain Robert Tomlinson, went to sea in 1774, with Lord Hotham, in the Resolution, of which ship his father was at that time first lieutenant. In 1779 he acted as aide-de-camp to Commodore Luttrell, on board the Charon, at the siege and capture of Omoa, and was one of those who scaled the walls of that fortress. In 1780 he served as midshipman, when the same vessel and another engaged, and took the Count D'Artois, of 64 guns. After the Charon had been burnt by the enemy at York Town, in North America, Mr. Tomlinson was employed on shore, and having been intrusted with the command of an advanced battery, for his conduct on that occasion he obtained the thanks of Lord Cornwallis in person. In the severe campaign of 1781 he commanded an open gun-boat, in the expeditions under Lord Cornwallis and General Arnold, on the rivers, and in the Chesapeake, and was almost daily engaged in fighting the enemy. In 1782 he obtained a

lieutenant's commission for the Bristol, and went to the East Indies, where he was in the last general action between Admiral Sir Edward Hughes and Suffrein. When the Duke of Athol was on fire in Madras Road, the lieutenant volunteered his assistance, was blown up, and nearly deprived of life: six other officers of the same rank were killed, with all the officers belonging to the ship, and 300 men, On his recovery he was appointed to the Savage sloop of war, and had the happiness to preserve the lives of two of his fellow-creatures. At the request of the late Lord Hawke, his early friend and patron, he was recommended by his Excellency Count Woronzow, the Russian ambassador to the court of St. Peters

burg, and immediately ordered by

the Empress Catharine to be appointed a captain of one of her lineof-battle ships. No sooner, however, did a war between England and France appear inevitable, than, relinquishing the most flattering prospects, he returned to his native country, and was appointed to the Regulus, in which ship he continued eight months, when, at the recommendation of Captain, now Admiral Sir Sidney Smith, he ob tained the command of the Polter gun-vessel, of 14 guns. The Pelter was engaged sometimes separately, and at other times in conjunction with several ships of war, in various operations, such as repeated attacks. upon batteries, destroying the enemy's vessels, while anchored under protection of cannon on shore, and in an encounter with three armed schooners, two of them of equal force with the Pelter. Lieutenant Tomlinson captured a chosee-marée, under a battery in sight of a squadron,. commanded by Sir J. B. Warren, which produced a flattering letter from that officer, and a generous relinquishment of the whole prize to the Pelter alone, from the officers and seamen belonging to his squadron. The Pelter covered the retreat of the remnant of the royalist army of Quiberon Bay, for which Lieutenant Tomlinson received the thanks of the commodore on the quarter-deck of La Pomone, in the presence of several distinguished officers of both navy and army; and in his despatches to the Admiralty, dated July 22, 1795, Sir J. Warren acknowledged these services. To whatever extent boarding and cutting out the enemy's vessels from under forts, &c. may have since been carried, is is believed that our lieutenant set the example in the late war (at least in Europe), by cutting out a lugger, in a single boat, in open daylight, while lying within pistol shot of a battery, with

the adjoining sand hills covered with soldiers. The Pelter being greatly shook and damaged, by repeated actions and the firing of her heavy guns, was obliged to return to England, and entered the harbour of Dartmouth in September 1795. On November the 29th, Lieutenant Tomlinson was made commander in the Suffisante sloop, of 14 guns. In a cruise, he destroyed eight merchantmen on the coast of France, although protected by a corvette, of 16 guns, and two cutters, of 14 guns each. He captured the Revanche brig, of 12 guns and 85 men, together with the Morgan privateer, besides recapturing six valuable merchantmen, her prizes, and performed a variety of similar exploits, for which he was complimented with one piece of plate from the merchants of London, and another from the Royal Exchange Assurance Company. Two letters of acknowledgment from the Admiralty, and from Earl Spencer, then first lord, were followed by his promotion to the rank of post captain, on December 12, 1796. He was a volunteer in the Baltic, under Admiral Sir Hyde Parker, who had instructions to consult him; and afterwards, such was his eagerness to distress the enemies of his country, that he offered to fit out at his own expense, and even to command in person, a private ship of war. This offer not obtaining the public sanction of the Admiralty, Captain Tomlinson procured leave of the Board to go to Oporto, and immediately took his passage in the Lord Hawke, fitted out by, and belonging to himself; and on his passage, he captured six sail of the enemy, retook a valuable British merchantman, and took also the Spanish packet L'Edad de Oro, worth about £12,000. The mail, which the Spaniards had thrown overboard, was recovered, by the captain encouraging a sailor to plunge after it; whereby such information was obtained as proved

of essential service to this empire, both in a political and a pecuniary view. On this occasion, however, Captain Tomlinson incurred the displeasure of the Admiralty, by the use of the private signals for the Channel fleet, and was struck off the list of captains. He petitioned the Admiralty to rescind their resolution, but in vain; and early in 1800 he memorialized the King with no better success; but on a second memorial being presented to the King, he was graciously pleased to restore him to the rank of post captain, from September 22, 1801. In 1809 he suggested to the Admiralty a more efficacious disposition of fireships, and an improvement upon the old plan of attacking with them the enemy's fleet in their own ports; and he himself was soon after actually employed, with confidential and secret instructions from the lords commissioners, to fit out and command all the fire-ships, which were ordered to be completed according to his method. He assisted Captain Moore, of the Marlborough, in the destruction of the basin, arsenal, and sea defences of Flushing, and obtained his high approbation. Soon after his arrival in England, a warrant was issued against him, on a charge of having transmitted to the navy-office, in 1795, while commander of the Pelter gun-brig, a forged voucher, to the amount of £29. 5s. from a sub-tradesman. He was actually arraigned and tried at the Old Bailey, in July 1810, for assisting in plundering government, in the year 1795, of this trifling sum! and notwithstanding his absolute innocence-notwithstanding his general and acknowledged merits as an officer, he incurred a positive loss of between five and six hundred pounds in law expenses, independently of the severe irritation and distress of mind which such proceeding must have excited in himself, his family, friends, and brother officers.

was

Insubordination ashore. During the time Sir Isaac Coffin port-admiral of Portsmouth, in one of his nightly perambulations through the town, he fell in with a jolly reefer, who, from too unbounded an adoration of Bacchus, was reeling ripely home to his landquarters, now pitching, tacking, lurching, and anon becalmed. The admiral happened to cross him, and seeing the forlorn condition poor Jack was in, lying on his beamends, he hailed him with "Hollo! What cheer, my hearty?" Jack rubbed up his dead-lights, and eyeing the admiral attentively, answered, with much maritime emphasis, "Damn me, if I know." "What ship do you belong to, messmate?" asked Sir Isaac. "Don't know," hiccupped Jack at due intervals.

Then who is your captain?" After a short consideration, Jack answered, Why, as well as I can guess, I don't know, d'ye see." "Do you know who I am?" demanded the good-natured knight. "No." "Then I am the portadmiral." At this intelligence, Jack rolled his eyes and his quid at the same time, and picking himself up, roared out, "Then you've got a damned good birth of it-that I know!" and shooting a-head under scudding-sails, left the jolly admiral laughing loudly at his bluff, Britishlike boldness.

Waltzing to some Tune. tenant L

Lien

of the Audacious, had a most unfortunate hesitation in his speech, so much so, that when he was agitated, he could not be understood. One morning having giving some particular orders in the working of the ship, a seaman, in obeying them, fell overboard, unperceived by any one but himself. The ship was in full sail : the Lieutenant, in great agony, ran about, making every effort to explain what had happened, but in vain nobody could understand him. His agitation rose so high, that he attempted to throw himself overboard. The sailors, thinking him mad, held him. At last the Admiral came up. The Lieutenant then began again his unintelligible effort: he, however, could make nothing of it. Perplexed by the circumstance, he said impatiently, "Damn it, if you cannot speak, you can sing!" This did the business : the stammering Lieutenant immediately began a favorite waltz to these words: "There's a man overboard overboard-there, there!"pointing to where he was seen struggling with death. Instantly, the ship was put about the boat lowered, and the poor fellow picked up, when at the last gasp.

A Dutch Jew, named Samuel Bonduy, lately died at Amsterdam, leaving funds to build and equip six 74-gun ships; there were found in his house 44 casks of coins of all the Princes in the world. This man had followed the armies of France visted Europe, Africa, America, an Asia. He was 96 years of age.

Poetical Scraps.

THE MIDSHIPMAN'S SONG.

'Tis a time of pride, when the bark is prancing,

Like an Arab steed, o'er the waste of

waves,

When her path behind in light is glancing,

And the fire-white foam her bowsprit laves; Then, then is the time of proud emotion,— And, if in the bosom a proud one sleep, "Twill awake to dance to the music of ocean, And sweep with the winds o'er the weltering deep.

With my bark through her own blue path careering.

I never can envy the landman's bliss; No sun on the shore ever shone so cheering, As it sparkles down on a world like this. What music can make the heart so sprightly, As the roll of the billows in the breeze? What ball upon earth ever shone so brightly As the stirring dance of the sun-lit seas? BEN BRACE.

DEATH OF POOR JACK.

Poor Jack, whose gay heart kept his spirits aloft,

And ever gave mirth its full due, Who sadness despised, nor to grieve was so soft,

Which made him the life of the crew. Having weather'd the tempests of ocean and fate,

Disdaining all hardships and fear, Hasten'd home to his Poll with his truehearted mate,

To be laid up in pleasure's snug tier. With a good store of shiners his chest was supply'd,

Says he now I'm on the right tack, "For that cherub, on whom I've so often rely'd,

"Has home, safe and sound, brought poor Jack."

That night which was nam'd by her sailor the last

Poll should sleep in her hammock alone, He resolv'd with his shipmates in glee should be past,

And mirth in his countenance shone; He trolled the blythe stave, drank a health to his king,

Good liquor had cherish'd his soul, When a seaman a signal from beauty did bring,

Which call'd him away to his Poll; "Avast friend adieu! for a moment we part: Poll commands me, about I must tack; For she's the sweet cherub that reigns in the heart

Of your friend and companion poor Jack.'

But scarce from the cabin of friendship he flew

Ere the sky form'd a picture so dread. The rain beat aloud, and the winds fiercely blew,

And thunder roll'd over his head; For his messmates at sea, how his bosom did swell,

He sigh'd more than once for their fate: Blue light'ning flash'd round him, the kind victim fell,

His soul fled to death's calm retreat, The cherub, who ever to virtue is near, Bore it hence through a clear lucid track, Yet gaz'd on his dust, and dropt a salt tear, To deprive his sweet Poll of Jack. poor

WE CONQUER, DEAR GIRLS, BUT FOR YOU.

Come sailors be filling the can,

The wind is beginning to blow, We've time to drink round to a man,

And then to weigh anchor must go. What thousands repair to the strand, To give us a chearing adieu! 'Tis plain they believe on the land, We conquer, dear girls, but for you.

When on the main-top mast-yard,

The sailor is swung to and fro;
Yet the tempest blow ever so hard,
He whistles defiance to woe.
The gale can but last for awhile,

Is always the boast of the crew; And then they reflect with a smile, We conquer, dear girls, but for you.

Tho' battle tremendous appears,

When blood stains the face of the main; Tho' thunder resounds in his ears,

The sailor's a stranger to pain. The thought with what rapture and pride, Each girl will her hero review; 'Tis this makes him danger deride, We conquer, dear girls, but for you.

"There he goes!" exclaimed a rough old hard-a-weather, pointing to a gladiator-looking sort of a gentleman, whom he had just before saluted in his best style while standing at the main guard in the College "there he goes, any how! Do you know him, Murphy ?"-"I do well, bad luck to his picture!" replied Murphy. Didn't he pick me up at Lisbon for an ould shipmate when I was following a paceable occupation on shore? And

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didn't he send me stock and fluke aboard the Queen Charlotte afore she was burnt off Leghorn? Faith and he did; and I shall never forget to remember that same. Och, wasn't I wid him in the Thisbe, upon the Halifax station, when he was a Captain? Sure and I was, and that's enough to make any man know him again." -"Hoot! hoot!" said old Dougal Macdougal, peaceable occcupation, Murphy, what ca' you that? Was it delving [No. 19.

your paw into ither men's pouches ?" "Arrah be aisy, Dougal, and don't bother me now; you'll never be half the rogue that I am!". "Troth, Murphy, there's mony a word of truth come's frae a joker's mou; but dinna let us blather aboot honesty, seeing that now-o-days Justice keeps it penned up i' the bilboes for fear it should leave the coontry aw thegither. I ken the admiral vera weel, and was ane of his ranting lads when he was commissioner in Port-in-gale. Mony's the time I've followed him harlyskarly through the streets the whiles he strode on before, like a wharlwind sweeping the chaff from off the face o' the yearth; and mony's the sair bruises and cloody een we hae gotten i' the fray. But Isaac was no a bock-hand at fisty cuffs; he would gather up his muckle bony knuckles like the hammer o'death, and gie a fellow a tap that would slaughter an ox. Ma conscience,