ill be watched
with a jealous eye, well knowing, as we all do, that the same spirit
of insolence and overbearing which you show in the cockpit, will
follow you to the quarter-deck, and rise with you in the service. This
advice is for your own good; not that I interfere in these things, as
everybody and everything finds its level in a man-of-war; I only wish
you to draw a line between resistance against oppression, which I
admire and respect, and a litigious, uncompromising disposition, which
I despise. Now wash your face and go on board. Try by all means to
conciliate the rest of your messmates, for first impressions are
everything, and rely on it, Murphy's report will not be in your
favour."

This advice was very good, but had the disadvantage of coming too late
for that occasion by at least half an hour. The fracas was owing to
the captain's mismanagement, and the manners and customs of the navy
at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The conversation at the
tables of the higher ranks of the service in those days, unless ladies
were present, was generally such as a boy could not listen to without
injury to his better feelings. I was therefore "hinted off;" but with
due respect to my captain, who is still living, I should have been
sent on board of my ship and cautioned against the bad habits of the
natives of North Corner and Barbican; and if I could not be admitted
to the mysterious conversation of a captain's table, I should have
been told in a clear and decided manner to depart, without the
needless puzzle of an innuendo, which I did not and could not
understand.

I returned on board about eight o'clock, where Murphy had gone before
me, and prepared a reception far from agreeable. Instead of being
welcomed to my berth, I was received with coldness, and I returned to
the quarter-deck, where I walked till I was weary, and then leaned
against a gun. From this temporary alleviation, I was roused by a
voice of thunder, "Lean off that gun." I started up, touched my hat,
and continued my solitary walk, looking now and then at the second
lieutenant, who had thus gruffly addressed me. I felt a dejection of
spirits, a sense of destitution and misery, which I cannot describe. I
had done no wrong, yet I was suffering as if I had committed a crime.
I had been aggrieved, and had vindicated myself as well as I could. I
thought I was among devils, and not men; my thoughts turned homeward.
I remembered my poor mother in her