Only one day previous, a letter had brought a discharge from the service for one of them. Poor fellow! it came too late. He was fated to a summary discharge from all service, in a manner appalling and repulsive to every finer human feeling. Such are the actual consequences of severity of discipline on board men of war. Punishment leads to revenge; revenge to punishment. What is intended to cure, only aggravates the disease; the evil enlarges under the remedy; _voluntary_ subordination ceases; gloom overspreads the crew; fear fills the breasts of the officers; the ship becomes a miniature of the house of fiends. While, on the other hand, mild regulations, enforced without an appeal to brute force, are easily carried into operation. The sailor has a warm heart; show him personal kindness, treat him as a man, he will then be a man; he will do anything for a _kind_ officer. He will peril his life for him; nay, he will cheerfully rush between him and danger. This was done at Tripoli, when the brave James[3] offered his own arm to receive the fell stroke of a Turkish scimitar, aimed at the life of the bold Decatur, on board the frigate _Philadelphia_. Let naval officers, let all ship-masters, once fairly test the effect of kind treatment, and I am sure they will never desire to return to severity; unless, indeed, they are tyrants at heart, in which case, the sooner they lose their commands the better for their country; for no tyrant is truly brave or trustworthy. Cowardice and meanness lie curled up in the heart of every tyrant. He is too despicable, too unsafe to be trusted with the responsibilities of a naval command. Such, at least, is the opinion of an old sailor.