acquainted with, there was never such a thing heard of, as 'nothing to
do.' As to 'Saturday nights' exclusively devoted to pledging
'sweethearts and wives' over a flowing can in the forecastle, we are
sorry to say, we regard that as little better than a poetic myth.

Doubtless, at the time Dibdin's songs were written, sailors sang them
to a considerable extent, for the public enthusiasm would in a way
compel Jack to acquiesce in these eulogies on himself; but the said
Jack never took them fairly to heart--how could he, when every voyage
he made must have given the lie to many of these glowing pictures of
life at sea? And from that time to the present, Dibdin's songs have
gradually been forgotten among seamen, till, at this day, we question
whether there is a foremast--Jack afloat who can sing half-a-dozen of
them; and, probably, not many men aboard merchantmen know more than
one or two songs of the hundred in question, although they may
recollect fragments of several.

Dibdin's songs might be 'worth a dozen pressgangs' for manning the
navy in war-time, and, for aught we can predicate to the contrary,
they may be so again; but we reiterate our conviction, that they never
caused sailors to ship aboard a man-o'-war. Landsmen might volunteer
by scores through the influence of such stirring, patriotic ditties;
but seamen, who 'knew the ropes,' would never be induced to ship
through their agency.

Dibdin does ample justice to the bravery, the generosity, the
good-humour, the kind-heartedness of sailors; and, as a class, they
deserve his encomiums. His songs abound with just and noble
sentiments, and manly virtues were never more constantly and
strikingly enunciated by any author. We dearly love Charles Dibdin for