IN WHICH MR. EASY HAS HIS FIRST LESSON AS TO ZEAL IN HIS MAJESTY'S
SERVICE.
As there was no time to lose, our hero very soon bade adieu to his
paternal roof, as the phrase is, and found his way down to Portsmouth.
As Jack had plenty of money, and was very much pleased at finding
himself his own master, he was in no hurry to join his ship, and five or
six companions not very creditable, whom either Jack had picked up, or
had picked up Jack, and who lived upon him, strongly advised him to put
it off until the very last moment. As this advice happened to coincide
with Jack's opinion, our hero was three weeks at Portsmouth before any
one knew of his arrival, but at last Captain Wilson received a letter
from Mr Easy, by which he found that Jack had left home at the period
we have mentioned, and he desired the first-lieutenant to make
inquiries, as he was afraid that some accident might have happened to
him. As Mr Sawbridge, the first-lieutenant, happened to be going on
shore on the same evening for the last time previous to the ship's
sailing, he looked into the Blue Posts, George, and Fountain Inns, to
inquire if there was such a person arrived as Mr Easy. "Oh, yes,"
replied the waiter at the Fountain--"Mr Easy has been here these three
weeks."
"The devil he has," roared Mr Sawbridge, with all the indignation of a
first-lieutenant defrauded three weeks of a midshipman; "where is he; in
the coffee-room?"
"Oh dear no, sir," replied the waiter, "Mr Easy has the front
apartments on the first floor."
"Well, then, show me up to the first floor."
"May I request the pleasure of your name, sir?" said the waiter.
"First-lieutenants don't send up their names to midshipmen," replied Mr
Sawbridge; "he shall soon know who I am."
At this reply the waiter walked upstairs, followed by Mr Sawbridge, and
threw open the door.
"A gentleman wishes to see you, sir," said the waiter.
"Desire him to walk in," said Jack: "and, waiter, mind that the punch is
a little better than it was yesterday; I have asked two more gentlemen
to dine here."
In the meantime Mr Sawbridge, who was not in his uniform, had entered,
and perceived Jack alone, with the dinner-table laid out in the best
style for eight, a considerable show of plate for even the Fountain Inn,
and everything, as well as the apartment itself, according to Mr
Sawbridge's opinion, much more fit for a commander-in-chief than a
midshipman of a sloop of war.
Now Mr Sawbridge was a good officer, one who had really worked his way
up to the present rank, that is to say, that he had served
seven-and-twenty years, and had nothing but his pay. He was a little
soured in the service, and certainly had an aversion to the young men of
family who were now fast crowding into it--and with some grounds, as he
perceived his own chance of promotion decrease in the same ratio as the
numbers increased. He considered that in proportion as midshipmen
assumed a cleaner and more gentlemanly appearance, so did they become
more useless, and it may therefore be easily imagined that his bile was
raised by this parade and display in a lad, who was very shortly to be,
and ought three weeks before to have been, shrinking from his frown.
Nevertheless, Sawbridge was a good-hearted man, although a little
envious of luxury, which he could not pretend to indulge in himself.
"May I beg to ask," said Jack, who was always remarkably polite and
gentlemanly in his address, "in what manner I may be of service to you?"
"Yes, sir, you may--by joining your ship immediately. And may I beg to
ask in return, sir, what is the reason you have stayed on shore three
weeks without joining her?"
Hereupon Jack, who did not much admire the peremptory tone of Mr
Sawbridge, and who during the answer had taken a seat, crossed his legs
and played with the gold chain to which his watch was secured, after a
pause very coolly replied:
"And pray, who are you?"
"Who am I, sir?" replied Sawbridge, jumping out of his chair--"my name
is Sawbridge, sir, and I am the first-lieutenant of the _Harpy_. Now,
sir, you have your answer."
Mr Sawbridge, who imagined that the name of the first-lieutenant would
strike terror to a culprit midshipman, threw himself back in the chair,
and assumed an air of importance.
"Really, sir," replied Jack, "what may be your exact situation on board,
my ignorance of the service will not allow me to guess, but if I may
judge from your behaviour, you have no small opinion of yourself."
"Look ye, young man, you may not know what a first-lieutenant is, and I
take it for granted that you do not, by your behaviour; but depend upon
it, I'll let you know very soon. In the meantime, sir, I insist upon
it, that you go immediately on board."
"I'm sorry that I cannot comply with your very moderate request,"
replied Jack coolly. "I shall go on board when it suits my convenience,
and I beg that you will give yourself no further trouble on my account."
Jack then rang the bell; the waiter, who had been listening outside,
immediately entered, and before Mr Sawbridge, who was dumb with
astonishment at Jack's impertinence, could have time to reply:
"Waiter," said Jack, "show this gentleman downstairs."
"By the god of war!" exclaimed the first-lieutenant, "but I'll soon show
you down to the boat, my young bantam; and when once I get you safe on
board, I'll make you know the difference between a midshipman and a
first-lieutenant."
"I can only admit of _equality_, sir," replied Jack; "we are all born
equal--I trust you'll allow that."
"Equality--damn it, I suppose you'll take the command of the ship.
However, sir, your ignorance will be a little enlightened by-and-by. I
shall now go and report your conduct to Captain Wilson; and I tell you
plainly, that if you are not on board this evening, to-morrow morning,
at daylight, I shall send a sergeant, and a file of marines, to fetch
you."
"You may depend upon it, sir," replied Jack, "that I also shall not fail
to mention to Captain Wilson that I consider you a very quarrelsome,
impertinent fellow, and recommend him not to allow you to remain on
board. It will be quite uncomfortable to be in the same ship with such
an ungentlemanly bear."
"He must be mad--quite mad," exclaimed Sawbridge, whose astonishment
even mastered his indignation. "Mad as a March hare--by God."
"No, sir," replied Jack, "I am not mad, but I am a philosopher."
"A _what_?" exclaimed Sawbridge, "damme, what next?--well, my joker, all
the better for you; I shall put your philosophy to the proof."
"It is for that very reason, sir," replied Jack, "that I have decided
upon going to sea: and if you do remain on board, I hope to argue the
point with you, and make you a convert to the truth of equality and the
rights of man."
"By the Lord that made us both, I'll soon make you a convert to the
thirty-six articles of war--that is, if you remain on board; but I shall
now go to the captain, and report your conduct, sir, and leave you to
your dinner with what appetite you may."
"Sir, I am infinitely obliged to you; but you need not be afraid of my
appetite; I am only sorry, as you happen to belong to the same ship,
that I cannot, in justice to the gentlemanly young men whom I expect,
ask you to join them. I wish you a very good morning, sir."
"Twenty years have I been in the service," roared Sawbridge, "and,
damme,--but he's mad--downright, stark, staring mad." And the
first-lieutenant bounced out of the room.
Jack was a little astonished himself. Had Mr Sawbridge made his
appearance in uniform it might have been different, but that a
plain-looking man, with black whiskers, shaggy hair, and old blue
frock-coat and yellow casimere waistcoat, should venture to address him
in such a manner, was quite incomprehensible;--he calls me mad, thought
Jack, I shall tell Captain Wilson what is my opinion about his
lieutenant. Shortly afterwards, the company arrived, and Jack soon
forgot all about it.
In the meantime, Sawbridge called at the captain's lodgings, and found
him at home: he made a very faithful report of all that had happened,
and concluded his requests by demanding, in great wrath, either an
instant dismissal or a court-martial on our hero, Jack.
"Stop, Sawbridge," replied Captain Wilson, "take a chair. As Mr Easy
says, we must argue the point, and then I will leave it to your better
feelings. As for the court-martial, it will not hold good, for Mr
Easy, in the first place, has not yet joined the ship, and in the next
place, could not be supposed to know that you were the first-lieutenant,
or even an officer, for you went to him out of uniform."
"Very true, sir," replied Sawbridge, "I had forgotten that."
"Then, as for his dismissal, or rather, not allowing him to join, Mr
Easy has been brought up in the country, and has never seen anything
aquatic larger than a fish-pond, perhaps, in his life; and as for the
service, or the nature of it, I believe he is as ignorant of it as a
child not a year old--I doubt whether he knows the rank of a lieutenant;
certainly, he can have no idea of the power of a first-lieutenant, by
his treatment of you."
"I should think not," replied Sawbridge dryly.
"I do not think, therefore, that conduct which must have proceeded from
sheer ignorance, should be so severely punished--I appeal to you,
Sawbridge."
"Well, sir, perhaps you are right--but still he told me he was a
philosopher, and talked about equality and rights of man. Told me that
he could only admit of equality between us, and begged to argue the
point. Now, sir, if a midshipman is to argue the point every time that
an order is given, the service will come to a pretty pass."
"That is all very true, Sawbridge; and now you remind me of what never
occurred to me at the time that I promised to take Mr Easy in the ship.
I now recollect that his father, who is a distant relation of mine, has
some very wild notions in his head, just like what have been repeated by
his son on your interview with him. I have occasionally dined there,
and Mr Easy has always been upholding the principles of natural
equality and of the rights of man, much to the amusement of his guests,
and I confess, at the time, of mine also. I recollect telling him that
I trusted he would never be able to disseminate his opinions in the
service to which I belonged, as we should have an end of all discipline.
I little thought, at the time, that his only son, who has no more
occasion to go to sea than the Archbishop of Canterbury, for his father
has a very handsome property--I believe seven or eight thousand a year--
would ever have sailed with me, and have brought these opinions with him
into any ship that I commanded. It is a pity, a great pity--"
"He never could have brought his pigs to a worse market," observed
Sawbridge.
"I agree with you, and, as a father myself, I cannot but help feeling
how careful we should be how we inculcate anything like abstract and
philosophical idea to youth. Allowing them to be in themselves correct,
still they are dangerous as sharp instruments are in the hands of a
child; allowing them to be erroneous, they are seized upon with an
avidity by young and ardent minds, and are not to be eradicated without
the greatest difficulty, and very often not until they have accomplished
their ruin."
"Then you think, sir, that these ideas have taken deep root in this
young man, and we shall not easily rid him of them."
"I do not say so; but still, recollect they have been instilled,
perhaps, from the earliest period, by one from whom they must have been
received with all confidence--from a father to a son; and that son has
never yet been sufficiently in the world to have proved their fallacy."
"Well sir," replied Sawbridge, "if I may venture to offer an opinion on
the subject, and in so doing I assure you that I only shall from a
feeling for the service--if, as you say, these opinions will not easily
be eradicated, as the young man is independent, would it not be both
better for himself, as well as for the service, that he is sent home
again? As an officer he will never do any good for himself, and he may
do much harm to others. I submit this to you, Captain Wilson, with all
respect; but as your first-lieutenant, I feel very jealous at any chance
of the discipline of the ship being interfered with by the introduction
of this young man, to whom it appears that a profession is no object."
"My dear Sawbridge," replied Captain Wilson, after taking one or two
turns up and down the room, "we entered the service together, we were
messmates for many years, and you must be aware that it is not only long
friendship but an intimate knowledge of your unrewarded merit, which has
induced me to request you to come with me as my first-lieutenant. Now,
I will put a case to you, and you shall then decide the question--and,
moreover, I will abide by your decision.
"Suppose that you were a commander like myself, with a wife and seven
children, and that, struggling for many years to support them, you found
yourself, notwithstanding the utmost parsimony, gradually running into
debt. That, after many long applications, you had at last succeeded in
obtaining employment by an appointment to a fine sloop, and there was
every prospect, by prize-money and increased pay, of recovering yourself
from your difficulties, if not realising a sufficient provision for your
family. Then suppose that all this prospect and all these hopes were
likely to be dashed to the ground by the fact of having no means of
fitting yourself out, no credit, no means of paying debts you have
contracted, for which you would have been arrested, or anything
sufficient to leave for the support of your family during your absence,
your agent only consenting to advance one-half of what you require.
Now, suppose, in this awkward dilemma, without any one in this world
upon whom you have any legitimate claim, as a last resource you were to
apply to one with whom you have but a distant connection, and but an
occasional acquaintance--and that when you had made your request for the
loan of two or three hundred pounds, fully anticipating a refusal (from
the feeling that he who goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing)--I say,
suppose, to your astonishment, that this generous person was to present
you with a cheque on his banker for one thousand pounds, demanding no
interest, no legal security, and requests you only to pay it at your
convenience--I ask you, Sawbridge, what would be your feelings towards
such a man?"
"I would die for him," replied Sawbridge, with emotion.
"And suppose that, by the merest chance, or from a whim of the moment,
the son of that man was to be placed under your protection?"
"I would be a father to him," replied Sawbridge.
"But we must proceed a little further: suppose that you were to find the
lad was not all that you could wish--that he had imbibed erroneous
doctrines, which would probably, if not eradicated, be attended with
consequences fatal to his welfare and happiness, would you therefore, on
that account, withdraw your protection, and leave him to the mercy of
others, who had no claims of gratitude to sway them in his favour?"
"Most certainly not, sir," replied Sawbridge; "on the contrary, I would
never part with the son until, by precept or otherwise, I had set him
right again, and thus had, as far as it was possible, paid the debt of
gratitude due to the generous father."
"I hardly need say to you, Sawbridge, after what has passed, that this
lad you have just come from, is the son, and that Mr Easy of Forest
Hill is the father."
"Then, sir, I can only say, that not only to please you, but also from
respect to a man who has shown such goodwill towards one of our cloth, I
shall most cheerfully forgive all that has passed between the lad and
me, and all that may probably take place before we make him what he
ought to be."
"Thank you, Sawbridge; I expected as much, and am not disappointed in my
opinion of you."
"And now, Captain Wilson, pray what is to be done?"
"We must get him on board, but not with a file of marines--that will do
more harm than good. I will send a note, requesting him to breakfast
with me to-morrow morning, and have a little conversation with him. I
do not wish to frighten him: he would not scruple to run back to Forest
Hill--now I wish to keep him if I possibly can."
"You are right, sir; his father appears his greatest enemy. What a pity
that a man with so good a heart should be so weak in the head! Then,
sir, I shall take no notice of this at present, but leave the whole
affair in your hands."
"Do, Sawbridge; you have obliged me very much by your kindness in this
business."
Mr Sawbridge then took his leave, and Captain Wilson despatched a note
to our hero, requesting the pleasure of his company to breakfast at nine
o'clock the ensuing morning. The answer was in the affirmative, but
verbal, for Jack had drunk too much champagne to trust his pen to paper.