"practical seamanship" and
maritime affairs, which may be found in the "Red Rover" and "Water
Witch" _passim_; but those animals, vulgarly called critics, but more
politely and properly at present, reviewers, whom the New York Mirror
defines to be "great dogs, that go about unchained and growl at every
thing they do not comprehend," these dogs have dragged the lion's hide
partly off, and ascertained, what every man, to whom the Almighty has
vouchsafed an ordinary share of common sense, had all along suspected,
that it covered an ass. James Fenimore Cooper, Esquire's "Letter to his
Countrymen" was an explosion of folly and absurdity that has blown his
name up so high, that there is little or no chance of its coming down
again "this king's reign." Whether he was or was not hired to write it
to support the present administration, as some folks suspect, is not my
affair. I will, therefore, resume the thread of my discourse, which was
only "belayed" for a few minutes, to indulge in the rare pleasure of
grumbling a little at seeing

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

Julia Effingham was embarked on board the large, burthensome, and not
alarmingly fast sailing brig Avon--John Burton, master; while the ship
under the command of Captain Allerton was called the Hyperion. Both
vessels were nearly of the same tonnage, though there was much
difference in their rates of sailing, the Hyperion having been built as
near the model of a swift American ship as the English naval architect's
conscience would let him, which, however, did not allow him any greater
latitude than such as made a very obvious difference in their appearance
and rate of speed. Miss Effingham was accompanied by her maid, Miss
Dolly, alias Dorothea, Hastings. Nothing material occurred for the first
six weeks of their voyage, by which time they had nearly reached the
equator, except that Allerton improved every opportunity afforded by
light breezes and calms to visit the Avon; which visits Captain Burton,
honest man! supposed were intended for himself.

But at this period--that is, six weeks after leaving the Lizard Point,
and while the two ships were in that peculiarly disagreeable strip of
salt water that lies between the southern limits of the north-east
trade-wind and the northern edge of the south-east, and is affected by
neither--there came on one night one of those very black and threatening
squalls, that look as though they would blow the ocean