ese songs of the forecastle, sung on the land as well as on the
ocean, in beauty's bower as well as in the sailor's sanctuary or the
stifled cabin, in days when accompaniments to vocal music were not
considered necessary, when the full melodious sound of the human
voice, THE NOBLEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD, was not strangled, drowned, or
travestied by the noise of the everlasting piano, played with artistic
skill to these spirit-stirring songs of the forecastle was commerce
indebted for many of the finest and best sailors ever sprinkled with
salt water.

The well known songs of "the Bay of Biscay," "Black Eyed Susan," and
"Cease, Rude Boreas," once listened to with emotion and delight at the
cottage fireside, or the fashionable drawing room, and the many songs
long since forgotten of a similar character, written by salt water
poets, and sung by mariners at home and abroad, have transformed
enthusiastic and adventurous landsmen into sailors by scores, as by the
touch of an enchanter's wand. Dibdin did more to man the "wooden walls
of old England" with brave and effective men than all the press-gangs
that ever infested the banks of the Thames.

There was one man on board the Casket who, more than all others, aided
to keep the crew cheerful and happy. He was the life and soul of the
forecastle. Not all the oppressive and unfeeling acts of the captain,
and rough and unjust treatment from the mate, which would naturally
excite indignation and a discontented spirit, such as sometimes will
lead to insubordination on the part of the crew, followed by the
free use of handspikes, rope's ends, and manacles, on the part of the
officers, could repress the spirits of Jonas Silvernail, spoil his
jokes, or lessen the volume of his hearty and sonorous laugh. Jonas was
a native of Hudson, in New York; a young, active, intelligent sailor,
who, always good-humored, was never more happy than when singing a sea
song, spinning a merry yarn, or playing off a practical joke. Jonas
was one of those jovial mortals who seemed determined to make sure of
present enjoyment, and let the future take care of itself; to bask in
the sunshine of life, while others despondingly wilt in the shade.

Good humor is contagious; and it was owing to the cheerful, contented
spirit, infused among the crew of the Casket by Silvernail's example,
that they forbore from insolent remonstrances, and wisely resolved to
bear the ills they had, rather,

"Than fly to othe