It has been remarked that war, though it assumes a most terrible aspect when to its own proper dangers are added all the perils of the sea, is yet carried on with more humanity, and with a more generous spirit of hostility, between ships upon the ocean than between armies upon land. “Two armies,” says Mr James, in the preface to his Naval History, “meet and engage: the battle ends, but the slaughter continues; the pursuing cavalry trample upon and hew to pieces the dead, the wounded, and the flying. A fort is stormed, and after a stout resistance carried: the garrison for their brave defence are put to the sword--as for their tame surrender they would have been branded (and who can say unjustly?) with cowardice. Two ships meet and engage: the instant the flag of one falls, the fire of the other ceases; and the vanquished become the guests rather than the prisoners of the victors. In another case, boarding in all its fury succeeds the cannonade: still no cutlass is raised after possession is complete. Again: a vessel, instead of flying from or quietly yielding to, boldly engages an opponent of treble her strength. Her temerity is accepted as valour; and all the mischief she may have caused--all the blood she may have spilt--far from provoking the rage, does but ensure the respect of the captors. In a fourth case, a fatal broadside sinks one ship: out go the boats of the other, and the emulation then is, not who shall destroy, but who shall save the greatest number of the enemy.”