Chapter XXXIV
O'Brien's good advice--Captain Kearney again deals in the marvellous.
I do not remember any circumstance in my life which, at that time, layso heavily on my mind as the loss of poor Mr Chucks, the boatswain, who,of course, I took it for granted I should never see again. I believethat the chief cause was that at the time I entered the service, andevery one considered me to be the fool of the family, Mr Chucks andO'Brien were the only two who thought of and treated me differently; andit was their conduct which induced me to apply myself and encouraged meto exertion. I believe that many a boy, who, if properly patronized,would turn out well, is, by the injudicious system of browbeating andridicule, forced into the wrong path, and, in his despair, throws awayall self-confidence, and allows himself to be carried away by the streamto perdition. O'Brien was not very partial to reading himself. He playedthe German flute remarkably well, and had a very good voice. His chiefamusement was practising, or rather playing, which is a very differentthing; but although he did not study himself, he always made me comeinto his cabin for an hour or two every day, and, after I had read,repeat to him the contents of the book. By this method he not onlyinstructed me, but gained a great deal of information himself; for hemade so many remarks upon what I had read, that it was impressed uponboth our memories.
"Well, Peter," he would say, as he came into the cabin, "what have youto tell me this morning? Sure it's you that's the schoolmaster, and notme--for I learn from you every day."
"I have not read much, O'Brien, to-day, for I have been thinking of poorMr Chucks."
"Very right for you so to do, Peter. Never forget your friends in ahurry. You'll not find too many of them as you trot along the highway oflife."
"I wonder whether he is dead?"
"Why, that's a question I cannot answer. A bullet through the chestdon't lengthen a man's days, that's certain; but this I know, that he'llnot die if he can help it, now that he's got the captain's jacket on."
"Yes; he always aspired to be a gentleman, which was absurd enough in aboatswain."
"Not at all absurd, Peter, but very absurd of you to talk withoutthinking. When did any one of his shipmates ever know Mr Chucks to do anunhandsome or mean action? Never; and why? Because he aspired to be agentleman, and that feeling kept him above it. Vanity's a confoundeddonkey, very apt to put his head between his legs, and chuck us over;but pride's a fine horse, who will carry us over the ground, and enableus to distance our fellow-travellers. Mr Chucks has pride, and that'salways commendable, even in a boatswain. How often have you read ofpeople rising from nothing, and becoming great men? This was fromtalent, sure enough; but it was talent with pride to force it onward,not talent with vanity to check it."
"You are very right, O'Brien; I spoke foolishly."
"Never mind, Peter, nobody heard you but me; so it's of no consequence.Don't you dine in the cabin to-day?"
"Yes."
"So do I. The captain is in a most marvellous humour this morning. Hetold me one or two yarns that quite staggered my politeness and myrespect for him on the quarter-deck. What a pity it is that a man shouldhave gained such a bad habit!"
"He's quite incurable, I'm afraid," replied I; "but, certainly, his fibsdo no harm; they are what they call white lies. I do not think he wouldreally tell a lie--that is, a lie which would be considered to disgracea gentleman."
"Peter, _all_ lies disgrace a gentleman, white or black, although Igrant there is a difference. To say the least of it, it is a dangeroushabit; for white lies are but the gentlemen ushers to black ones. I knowbut of one point on which a lie is excusable, and that is, when you wishto deceive the enemy. Then your duty to your country warrants your lyingtill you're black in the face; and, for the very reason that it goesagainst your grain, it becomes, as it were, a sort of virtue."
"What was the difference between the marine officer and Mr Phillott thatoccurred this morning?"
"Nothing at all in itself. The marine officer is a bit of a gaby, andtakes offence where none is meant. Mr Phillott has a foul tongue; but hehas a good heart."
"What a pity it is!"
"It is a pity, for he's a smart officer; but the fact is, Peter, thatjunior officers are too apt to copy their superiors, and that makes itvery important that a young gentleman should sail with a captain who isa gentleman. Now, Phillott served the best of his time with CaptainBallover, who is notorious in the service for foul and abusive language.What is the consequence? That Phillott and many others who have servedunder him have learnt his bad habit."
"I should think, O'Brien, that the very circumstance of having had yourfeelings so often wounded by such language when you were a juniorofficer, would make you doubly careful not to make use of it to others,when you had advanced in the service."
"Peter, that's just the _first_ feeling, which wears away after a time;but at last, your own sense of indignation becomes blunted, and becomingindifferent to it, you forget also that you wound the feelings ofothers, and carry the habit with you, to the great injury and disgraceof the service. But it's time to dress for dinner, so you'd better makeyourself scarce, Peter, while I tidivate myself off a little, accordingto the rules and regulations of His Majesty's service, when you areasked to dine with the skipper."
We met at the captain's table, where we found, as usual, a great displayof plate, but very little else, except the ship's allowance. Wecertainly had now been cruising some time, and there was some excuse forit; but still, few captains would have been so unprovided. "I'm afraid,gentlemen, you will not have a very grand dinner," observed the captain,as the steward removed the plated covers of the dishes; "but when onservice we must rough it out how we can. Mr O'Brien, pea-soup? Irecollect faring harder than this through one cruise in a flush vessel.We were thirteen weeks up to our knees in water, and living the wholetime upon raw pork--not being able to light a fire during the cruise."
"Pray, Captain Kearney, may I ask where this happened?"
"To be sure. It was off Bermudas: we cruised for seven weeks before wecould find the Islands, and began verily to think that the Bermudas werethemselves on a cruise."
"I presume, sir, you were not so sorry to have a fire to cook yourprovisions when you came to an anchor?" said O'Brien.
"I beg your pardon," replied Captain Kearney; "we had become soaccustomed to raw provisions and wet feet, that we could not eat ourmeals cooked, or help dipping our legs over the side, for a long whileafterwards. I saw one of the boat-keepers astern catch a largebarracouta and eat it alive--indeed, if I had not given the strictestorders, and flogged half-a-dozen of them, I doubt whether they would nothave eaten their victuals raw to this day. The force of habit istremendous."
"It is, indeed," observed Mr Phillott, drily, and winking to us,referring to the captain's incredible stories.
"It is, indeed," repeated O'Brien; "we see the ditch in our neighbour'seye, and cannot observe the log of wood in our own;" and O'Brien winkedat me, referring to Phillott's habit of bad language.
"I once knew a married man," observed the captain, "who had been alwaysaccustomed to go to sleep with his hand upon his wife's head, and wouldnot allow her to wear a nightcap in consequence. Well, she caught coldand died, and he never could sleep at night until he took aclothes-brush to bed with him, and laid his hand upon that, whichanswered the purpose--such was the force of habit."
"I once saw a dead body galvanized," observed Mr Phillott: "it was thebody of a man who had taken a great deal of snuff during his lifetime,and as soon as the battery was applied to his spine, the body verygently raised its arm, and put its fingers to its nose, as if it wastaking a pinch."
"You saw that yourself, Mr Phillott?" observed the captain, looking atthe first lieutenant earnestly in the face.
"Yes, sir," replied Mr Phillott, coolly.
"Have you told that story often?"
"Very often, sir."
"Because I know that some people, by constantly telling a story, at lastbelieve it to be true; not that I refer to
you, Mr Phillott; but still,I should recommend you not to tell that story where you are not wellknown, or people may doubt your credibility."
"I make it a rule to believe everything myself," observed Mr Phillott,"out of politeness, and I expect the same courtesy from others."
"Then, upon my soul! when you tell that story, you trespass very muchupon our good manners. Talking of courtesy, you must meet a friend ofmine, who has been a courtier all his life; he cannot help bowing, Ihave seen him bow to his horse and thank him after he had dismounted--beg pardon of a puppy for treading on his tail; and one day, when hefell over a scraper, he took his hat off, and made it a thousandapologies for his inattention."
"Force of habit again," said O'Brien.
"Exactly so. Mr Simple, will you take a slice of this pork? and perhapsyou'll do me the honour to take a glass of wine? Lord Privilege wouldnot much admire our dinner to-day, would he, Mr Simple?"
"As a variety he might, sir, but not for a continuance."
"Very truly said. Variety is charming. The negroes here get so tired ofsalt fish and occra broth, that they eat dirt by way of a relish. MrO'Brien, how remarkably well you played that sonata of Pleydel's thismorning."
"I am happy that I did not annoy you, Captain Kearney, at all events,"replied O'Brien.
"On the contrary, I am very partial to good music. My mother was a greatperformer. I recollect once, she was performing a piece on the piano inwhich she had to imitate a _thunderstorm_. So admirably did she hit itoff, that when we went to tea all the cream was _turned sour_, as wellas three casks of _beer_ in the cellar."
At this assertion Mr Phillott could contain himself no longer; he burstout into a loud laugh, and having a glass of wine to his lips, spatteredit all over the table, and over me, who unfortunately was opposite tohim.
"I really beg pardon, Captain Kearney, but the idea of such an expensivetalent was too amusing. Will you permit me to ask you a question? Asthere could not have been thunder without lightning, were any peoplekilled at the same time by the electric fluid of the piano?"
"No sir," replied Captain Kearney, very angrily; "but her performance_electrified_ us, which was something like it. Perhaps, Mr Phillott, asyou lost your last glass of wine, you will allow me to take another withyou?"
"With great pleasure," replied the first lieutenant, who perceived thathe had gone far enough.
"Well, gentlemen," said the captain, "we shall soon be in the land ofplenty. I shall cruise a fortnight more, and then join the admiral atJamaica. We must make out our despatch relative to the cutting out ofthe _Sylvia_ (that was the name of the privateer brig), and I am happyto say that I shall feel it my duty to make honourable mention of allthe party present. Steward, coffee."
The first lieutenant, O'Brien, and I, bowed to this flattering avowal onthe part of the captain; as for me, I felt delighted. The idea of myname being mentioned in the "Gazette," and the pleasure that it wouldgive to my father and mother, mantled the blood in my cheeks till I wasas red as a turkey-cock.
"_Cousin_ Simple," said the captain, good-naturedly, "you have nooccasion to blush; your conduct deserves it; and you are indebted to MrPhillott for having made me acquainted with your gallantry."
Coffee was soon over, and I was glad to leave the cabin, and be alone,that I might compose my perturbed mind. I felt too happy. I did not,however, say a word to my messmates, as it might have created feelingsof envy or ill-will. O'Brien gave me a caution not to do so, when I methim afterwards, so that I was very glad that I had been so circumspect.