and of the faithful
African--_Hic jacet in pace_.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER 1.

THE SAN FIORENZO AND HER CAPTAIN, NARRATED BY ADMIRAL M--.

There was not a happier ship in the service, when I joined her towards
the end of the year 1794, than the gallant _San Fiorenzo_, Captain Sir
Harry Burrard Neale, and those were not days when ships were reckoned
little paradises afloat, even by enthusiastic misses or sanguine young
midshipmen. They were generally quite the other thing.

The crews of many ships found it that other thing, and the officers, of
course, found it so likewise. If the men are not contented, the
officers must be uncomfortable; and, at the same time, I will say, from
my experience, that when a ship gained the title of a hell-afloat, it
was always in consequence of the officers not knowing their duty, or not
doing it. Pride, arrogance, and an utter disregard for the feelings of
those beneath them in rank, was too prevalent among the officers of the
service, and was the secret of the calamitous events which occasionally
happened about that time.

My noble commander was not such an one as those of whom I have spoken.
There were some like him, but not many his equals. I may truly say of
him "that he belonged to the race of admirals of which the navy of Old
England has a right to be proud; that he was a perfect seaman, and a
perfect gentleman."

"He was one of the most humane, brave, and zealous commanders that ever
trod a deck, to whom every man under him looked up as a father." I was
with him for many, very many years--from my boyish days to manhood,--and
I may safely say that I never saw him in a passion, or even out of
temper, though I have seen him indignant; and never more so than when
merit--the merit of the junior officers of the service--has been
overlooked or disregarded. I never heard him utter an oath, and I
believe firmly that he never allowed one to escape his lips. I will say
of him what I dare say of few men, that, in the whole course of his
life, he was never guilty of an act unworthy of the character of a
Christian and a gentleman. I was with him when his career was run--
when, living in private on his own estate, the brave old sailor, who had
ever kept himself unspotted from the world, spent his days in "visiting
the fatherless and widows in their affliction"--walking from cottage to
cottage, with his basket of provisions or medicines, or books, where the
first were not required.