m the epitaph written for Sir. Peter's tomb in
Westminster Abbey by Dr. Samuel Johnson._

The sea has always made a splendid romantic setting for a gallant
hero. Even one of moderate attainments and inconsiderable adventures
may loom to proportions that are quite picturesque when given a
background of tossing waves, "all sails set," and a few jolly tars to
sing and fight and heave the rope. And when you have a hero who needs
no augmenting of heroism, no spectacular embellishment as it
were,--what a gorgeous figure he becomes, to be sure!

Peter Warren, fighting Irish lad, venturesome sailor, sometime Admiral
and Member of Parliament, and at all times a merry and courageous
soldier of the high seas, falls heir to as pretty and stirring a
reputation as ever set a gilded aureole about the head of a man.
Though he was in the British navy and a staunch believer in "Imperial
England," he was so closely associated with New York for so many years
that no book about the city could be written without doing him some
measure of honour. No figure is so fit as Sir. Peter's to represent
those picturesque Colonial days when the "Sons of Liberty" had not
begun to assemble, and this New York of ours was well-nigh as English
as London town itself. So, resplendent in his gold-laced uniform and
the smartly imposing hat of his rank and office, let him enter and
make his bow,--Admiral Sir. Peter Warren, by your leave, Knight of the
Bath, Member of Parliament, destined to lie at last in the stately
gloom of the Abbey, with the rest of the illustrious English dead.

He came of a long line of Irishmen, and certainly did that fine
fighting race the utmost credit. From his boyhood he was always
hunting trouble; he dearly loved a fight, and gravitated into the
British navy as inevitably as a duck to water. He was scarcely more
than an urchin when he became a fighting sailor, and indeed one could
expect no less, for both his father and grandfather had been officers
in the service, and goodness knows how many lusty Warrens before them!
For our friend Peter was a Warren of Warrenstown, of the County Meath
just west of Dublin, and let me tell you that meant something!

The Warrens got their estates in the days of "Strongbow," and held
them through all the vicissitudes of olden Ireland. They were a house
called "English-Irish," and "inside the pale," which means that they
stood high in British favour, and contributed heroes to the army or
nav