ember when the "King's Own" was finished, I was as happy as a
pedestrian who had accomplished his thousand miles in a thousand hours.
My voluntary slavery was over, and I was emancipated. Where was I then?
I recollect; within two days' sail of the Lizard, returning home, after
a six weeks' cruise to discover a rock in the Atlantic, which never
existed except in the terrified or intoxicated noddle of some master of
a merchant vessel.

It was about half-past five in the evening, and I was alone in my
after-cabin, quite alone, as the captain of a man-of-war must be, even
when in presence of his ship's company. If being sent to sea has been
pronounced by the officers and men to be _transportation_, being the
captain of the ship may truly be designated as _solitary confinement_.

I could not send for any one to whom I could impart the
intelligence--there was no one whom I could expect to sympathise with
me, or to whom I could pour out the abundance of my joy; for that the
service prohibited. What could I do? Why, I could dance; so I sprang
from my chair, and singing the tune, commenced a quadrille
movement,--Tal de ral la, tal de ral la, lity, lity, lity, liddle-um,
tal de ral la, tal--

"Three bells, sir," cried the first lieutenant, who had opened my door
unperceived by me, and showed evident surprise at my motions; "shall we
beat to quarters?"--

"Certainly, Mr B--," replied I, and he disappeared.

But this interruption produced only a temporary cessation: I was in the
height of "Cavalier seul," when his head popped into the cabin--

"All present, and sober, sir," reported he, with a demure smile.

"Except the captain, I presume you are thinking," replied I.

"Oh! no, indeed, sir; I observed that you were very merry."

"I am, Mr B--, but not with wine; mine is a sort of intellectual
intoxication not provided for in the Articles of War."

"A what! sir?"

"Oh! something that you'll never get drunk upon, as you never look into
a book--beat a retreat."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the first lieutenant; and he disappeared.

And I also beat a retreat to my sofa; and as I threw myself upon it,
mentally vowed that, for two months at the least, I never would take up
a pen. But we seldom make a vow which we do not eventually break; and
the reason is obvious. We vow only when hurried into excesses; we are
alarmed at the dominion which has been acquired over us by our feelings,
or by our habits. Checked for a time by an adh