Inspired by it in after time, A race of heroes will appear, The glory of Britannia’s clime, To emulate thy bright career. And there will be, of martial fire, Those who all danger will endure; Their first, best aim, but to aspire To die thy death--the death of Moore. To return. On the evening of the second day, we were off Falmouth, and then got a slant of wind that enabled us to lie our course. Next morning, at daybreak, saw a frigate in the northeast quarter, making signals;--soon after we bore up. Bay of Biscay--tremendous swell--Cape Finisterre--blockading squadron off Cadiz--in-shore squadron--and so on, all trifle and no plums. At length the Kraaken, in which I had now served for some time, was ordered home, and sick of knocking about in a fleet, I got appointed to a fine eighteen-gun sloop, the Torch, in which we sailed on such a day for the North Sea--wind foul--weather thick and squally; but towards evening on the third day, being then off Harwich, it moderated, when we made more sail, and stood on, and next morning, in the cold, miserable, drenching haze of an October daybreak, we passed through a fleet of fishing-boats at anchor. “At anchor,” thought I, “and in the middle of the sea,”--but so it was--all with their tiny cabooses, smoking cheerily, and a solitary figure, as broad as it was long, stiffly walking to and fro on the confined decks of the little vessels. It was now that I knew the value of the saying, “a fisherman’s walk, two steps and overboard.” With regard to these same fishermen, I cannot convey a better notion of them, than by describing one of the two North Sea pilots whom we had on board. This pilot was a tall, raw-boned subject, about six feet or so, with a blue face--I could not call it red--and a hawk’s-bill nose of the colour of bronze. His head was defended from the weather by what is technically called a south-west, pronounced sow-west,--cap, which is in shape like the thatch of a dustman, composed of canvass, well tarred, with no snout, but having a long flap hanging down the back to carry the rain over the cape of the jacket. His chin was embedded in a red comforter that rose to his ears. His trunk was first of all cased in a shirt of worsted stocking-net; over this he had a coarse linen shirt, then a thick cloth waistcoat; a shag jacket was the next layer, and over that was rigged the large cumbrous pea jacket, reaching to his knees. As for his lower spars, the rig was still more peculiar;--first of all, he had on a pair of most comfortable woollen stockings, what we call fleecy hosiery--and the beauties are peculiarly nice in this respect--then a pair of strong fearnaught trowsers; over these again are drawn up another pair of stockings, thick, coarse, rig-and-furrowed as we call them in Scotland, and above all this were drawn a pair of long, well-greased, and liquored boots, reaching half-way up the thigh, and altogether impervious to wet.