up the people. The other probably would not have turned a
vote in either House. As a military exploit the frigate victory was
exaggerated, and not unnaturally; but no words can exaggerate its
influence upon the future of the American navy. Here was something
that men could see and understand, even though they might not
correctly appreciate. Coinciding as the tidings did with the
mortification of Hull's surrender at Detroit, they came at a moment
which was truly psychological. Bowed down with shame at reverse where
only triumph had been anticipated, the exultation over victory where
disaster had been more naturally awaited produced a wild reaction. The
effect was decisive. Inefficient and dilatory as was much of the
subsequent administration of the navy, there was never any further
question of its continuance. And yet, from the ship which thus played
the most determining part in the history of her service, it has been
proposed to take her name, and give it to another, of newer
construction; as though with the name could go also the association.
Could any other _Victory_ be Nelson's _Victory_ to Great Britain? Can
calling a man George Washington help to perpetuate the services of the
one Washington? The last much-vaunted addition to the British fleet,
the _Dreadnaught_, bears a family name extending back over two
centuries, or more. She is one of a series reasonably perpetuated,
ship after ship, as son after sire; a line of succession honored in
the traditions of the nation. So there were _Victorys_, before the one
whose revered hulk still maintains a hallowed association; but her
individual connection with one event has set her apart. The name might
be transferred, but with it the association cannot be transmitted. But
not even the _Victory_, with all her clinging memories, did for the
British navy what the _Constitution_ did for the American.
There was thenceforward no longer any question about votes for the
navy. Ships of the line, frigates, and sloops, were ordered to be
built, and the impulse thus received never wholly died out. Still, as
with all motives which in origin are emotional rather than reasoned,
there was lack of staying power. As the enthusiasm of the moment
languished, there came languor of growth; or, more properly, of
development. Continuance became routine in character, tending to
reproduce contentedly the old types consecrated by the War of 1812.
There was little conscious recognition of national ex
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