in full uniform.  The people are first mustered by the young gentlemen, and then carefully inspected by the officer of the division, who sees that every man is dressed according to order, and that he is otherwise in proper trim.  It is also usual in hot climates for the surgeon and his assistants to pass along the lines, to ascertain, partly by the men’s looks, and partly by an examination of their limbs, that no traces of scurvy have begun to show themselves.

While the mustering and inspecting of the divisions is going on, the captain paces the quarter-deck, in company with the first lieutenant.  No other voices are heard except theirs, and that of the midshipmen calling over the names of the men, or the officers putting some interrogatory about a spot of tar on a pair of duck trousers, or an ill-mended hole in the sleeve of a shirt.  In a few minutes even these sounds are hushed, and nothing is distinguishable fore and aft but the tread of the respective officers, on their way aft to report to the captain on the quarter-deck that all are present, properly dressed, and clean, at their different divisions.  The marine officer likewise makes a report of his party and their equipments.  The first lieutenant now turns to the captain, takes off his hat, and says,—­

“All the officers have reported, sir.”

To which the other replies,—­

“We’ll go round the ship, then, if you please;” and off they trudge, after leaving the deck in charge of the second lieutenant, or the master, as may be determined upon at the moment.

As the captain approaches the first division, he is received by the officer commanding it, who touches his hat, and then falls into the train behind.  Of course, the moment the skipper appears, the men along the whole line take off their hats, smooth down their locks, make many clumsy efforts to stand erect, fumble interminably with the waistband of their trousers, and shuffle, to more or less purpose, according to the motion of the ship, to maintain their toes exactly at the line or seam in the deck along which they have been cautioned twenty times they are to stand.  The captain, as he moves slowly past, eyes each man from head to foot, and lets nothing pass of which he disapproves.  The officer of the division is ready to explain, or to take a note of what alteration is required; but supposing all to be right, not a syllable is spoken, and at the end of the division the captain again touches his hat to the officer, who returns the salute, and remains with his people.

He then proceeds to the forecastle, at the break of which he is received by the three warrant-officers, the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, in their best coats, cut after the fashion of the year one, broad-tailed, musty, and full of creases from bad packing and little use, and blazing from top to bottom with a double-tiered battery of buttons of huge dimensions.  Behind these worthy personages, who seldom look much at home in their finery, stands the master-at-arms, in front of his troop of troublesome small fry, known by the name of the ship’s boys, destined in good time to be sailors, and perhaps amongst the best and truest that we ever number in our crews.