The mid-day meal had concluded in the chief cabin, and its partakers
were grouped round a table in the centre of the apartment, assisting
with conversation the enjoyment of the wines and delicacies of which
they were partaking. The cabin was elegant in its decorations, but they
were marked by a more valuable quality than mere elegance: the pictures
and other ornaments, possessing features of peculiar interest to persons
engaged in traffic, for they represented, or were connected in some way
with the objects, the pleasures, and the advantages of commerce; some
weapons arranged in a picturesque manner, and placed amongst them by
Oriel Porphyry, were the only things there seen that did not partake of
the peaceful character of the appearance of the room.
"The only thing I can see in nature," said Captain Compass, as he sat
at one end of the table opposite Oriel Porphyry, re-filling his glass,
"and the only thing I think worth seeing is glory. May I sink to the
bottom of the sea in the next gale, if there's any thing else a fellow
should wish to possess. What do you say, master Porphyry?"
"Why, I must acknowledge it has extraordinary attractions," replied the
young merchant. "It is generally difficult to obtain,--its pursuit is
usually attended with much hazard, but then there is such an excitement
in the effort made to possess it, and such a splendour accompanying its
possession, that difficulties and dangers ought not to be considered by
those by whom it is sought."
"Exactly," responded the captain, with more than usual cordiality; "and
they only can obtain glory who express such sentiments."
"But it is uncertain as yet what definition you give to the idea you
call glory," remarked the oldest member of the party,--a man rather
above the medium height, and considerably beyond the middle age, with a
large head, nearly bald, prominent nose, and deep-set eyes, well shaded
by a pair of thick grisly eyebrows. His features were somewhat stern
in their expression, apparently more from the result of continual
reflection than from want of kindly feeling; and although they indicated
considerable mental power, a consciousness of superiority betrayed
itself quite as conspicuously. It may easily be imagined that this was
the learned Professor Fortyfolios. "The consideration of any abstract
idea," continued the professor, who, it will be observed, having been
a public lecturer in the university of Columbus, had acquired a more
important manner of expressing his sentiments than was usual in
conversation. "The consideration of any abstract idea, appears under
different circumstances in the minds of different individuals, but this
is as much the result of an habitual tendency to certain associations in
the person who considers the subject, as the consequence of the variety
of organisations that exist in society. Scarcely any two persons are
to be met with whose reflective faculties pursue the progress of
ratiocination exactly in the same manner,--because no two individuals
being exactly alike, and the mind being a portion of the self, partaking
of its individuality, as in a mirror, the shadow is a resemblance of the
features, each must receive its own separate impressions, and consider
them in its own peculiar manner. It follows, as a natural consequence,
that the thoughts of the speaker will partake of his individual
habitude, and that his conception of glory, or any other abstract idea,
will be coloured by his particular way of life."
"Well, I don't know in what latitude abstract ideas may be found," said
the captain, a little puzzled by the professor's explanation; "but I
think any body knows the landmarks of glory. If I saw a little ship
manned by a few brave spirits, fight a ship double its size, or may be
two ships or may be three, defended by a crew as superior in numbers;
and after raking her fore and aft, smashing every thing to splinters,
and cutting every thing to rags, pipe all hands to board, and sweep away
the enemy from their own decks into the sea, and after that sail away
with the prize, I should call _that_ glory."
"The action is glorious no doubt," observed Oriel Porphyry, "but it
does not realise my conception of glory. I imagine a man, in the truest
sense of the word, living in a country groaning under the despotism
of a tyrant, and having that spirit of freedom in his nature, which
must always accompany greatness; and that uncontrollable energy of
valour in his character, which is its element, pointing out to his
fellow-sufferers the cause of their slavery, stirring in their hearts an
unconquerable love of independence, and after gathering them together
by twos and threes, then by hundreds and thousands, and lastly, by
resistless multitudes, at their head attacking the hordes of armed
plunderers by whom their subjugation had been effected; driving
them from the tented field to the battlemented wall, and from the
battlemented wall to the grave; and when not a trace of tyranny remained
throughout the land, I imagine that man the liberator of his country,
and the emancipator of its people, honoured as he ought to be, and
possessed with the power with which their gratitude should invest him,
conducting the nation he had enfranchised to the highest degree of
prosperity and greatness--and I call _that_ glory."
"Then my notion of the same idea differs materially from those you
have given," said the professor. "In the first place, there are two
antagonist principles, from which all good and ill emanate--intelligence
and ignorance; and only according to the predominance of the former can
we judge of the extent of the excellence of any thing. As we know that
all which is beneficial proceeds from intelligence, and that without
intelligence nothing good can arise, and that without good there can
be no such thing as glory, it must be evident that he who produces
intelligence acquires the truest and greatest glory. The philosopher who
spends laborious days in amassing knowledge by observation and study,
which he distributes to the whole world, and whose labours continue to
the end of time to ennoble and refine mankind; in the fame with which
his name must be inseparably connected among all generations, and
wherever civilisation exists, realises, in my opinion, the _only_ true
idea of glory the human mind can conceive."
"I beg leave to differ from you all," cried a stout little man (whose
round, rosy face bore the perfect expression of good humour), sitting
opposite the professor, and whose professional conversation proclaimed
him to be Dr. Tourniquet, "I beg leave to differ from you all, don't you
see. I cannot imagine glory to belong to anything that does not tend
to alleviate the sufferings or remove the diseases of the human frame,
don't you see. Life is subject to a multitude of maladies--from the
cradle to the grave there is a constant succession of aches and pains,
and few escape without experiencing disorders more or less dreadful.
Now my idea is, that evil and good are but other names for pain and
pleasure, don't you see; that he who lessens the quantity of evil is
alone entitled to the name of benefactor, which brings with it the
greatest degree of glory it is possible to possess, don't you see; and
that, consequently, the man who devotes his life to procure others
the enjoyment of health--who boldly ventures among the most malignant
contagions to study their effects, and origins--who carefully examines
every morbid structure in the living and the dead, at the greatest
personal risk and inconvenience, till he becomes familiar with all its
appearances and discovers its creating cause; and by long study of the
properties of different medicinal substances, of external circumstances
that tend to produce health or disease, and by his intimate acquaintance
with the human body in every state in which it can be seen;--in my
opinion, that man, who by knowledge thus acquired, and thus applied,
through his example made public, being enabled to save or prolong the
lives of millions of his fellow-creatures, and multiply the blessings
of existence, in the admiration with which his name must always be
regarded, is the _only_ perfect conception of glory that can be
entertained, don't you see."
"Pooh, pooh!" exclaimed the captain, somewhat contemptuously. "What
glory can there be in giving a fellow a dose of physic?"
"Unless there be some ennobling sentiment in the mind, which is
developed in great actions such as I have described, glory cannot
exist," said Oriel Porphyry.
"Strife must always be a bad means to whatever end it may lead,"
observed his tutor; "and as nothing but ignorance can make men endeavour
to destroy each other, strife can never be productive of true glory."
"The amount of pain, resulting from battles either on sea or land, is
immense," remarked the doctor. "Gunshot wounds, fractures, contusions,
ruptures, laceration, inflammation, suppuration, mortification, and
death; and, therefore, he who creates so much pain, cannot, by his
actions, be said to achieve anything like glory, don't you see. As for
philosophy and its qualifications for being considered the only thing
that is most glorious, if the philosopher cannot set a broken bone, or
remove a disease, pain must exist in spite of such philosophy; and
therefore, the philosopher, who is enabled to prevent or remove pain,
has the best reason to glory in his philosophy, don't you see."
"But pain cannot, on many occasions, be either removed or prevented,"
replied the professor, seemingly preparing himself for an argument.
"Pain is frequently produced by accidents which cannot be foreseen, and
therefore cannot be prevented; and these frequently assume shapes on
which science is exerted in vain, and therefore they cannot be removed:
in these cases, where surgery and medicine are perfectly useless,
philosophy is triumphant; for it will enable the sufferer to be
regardless of his pain, and to look upon his dissolution with
indifference."
"What is the use of your philosophy to the insane?" asked the doctor,
who seemed to take considerable delight in opposing the professor.
"I should imagine it would be about as serviceable as your medical
treatment," retorted the other.
"Nothing of the kind," replied his antagonist with a chuckle of
triumphant congratulation. "A knowledge of the anatomy of the brain,
its functions, and operations, with sufficient information as to the
patient's history, general habits and mode of thinking, applied by an
experienced practitioner, may often effect a cure, don't you see."
"May often, but how often?" inquired Fortyfolios, with some appearance
of sarcasm. "To one restored to sanity, there will be found fifty
incurables--so where's your remedy?"
"To one philosopher there will be discovered a thousand fools, don't you
see--so where's your philosophy?" responded the other in a similar tone.
"Dr. Tourniquet," replied the professor with a look of offended dignity,
"I trust my philosophy will be found whenever it is required."
"Professor Fortyfolios," said the doctor, evidently desirous of pushing
matters with his antagonist as far as possible, "if you wait till it's
required, perhaps you may have to wait a long time, don't you see."
"No Sir, I don't see!" cried the now angry Professor with much warmth.
"And allow me to add, Dr. Tourniquet--allow me to add, I say----"
"The wine, if you please," cried Oriel Porphyry, who, with the captain,
had enjoyed the discussion till he thought it necessary to interfere.
"Ay, the wine, Professor Fortyfolios," repeated the doctor, with his
usual good humour. "It is the most admirable addition to your excellent
arguments you could have conceived; and, therefore, as a mark of sincere
respect for your superior learning, allow me to propose your health,
don't you see."
The professor recovered his dignity immediately. "I agree completely,"
said he, after having properly acknowledged the compliment he had
received, "I agree completely with the opinion of my accomplished
friend, as to the great degree of pain produced by warfare, and----"
"Froth and moonshine!" exclaimed the captain, interrupting him. "Why we
must all die some day or other, and it is quite as agreeable to strike
your colours to a bullet or a sword thrust, as to old age or the gout.
In my opinion, a fellow who lives past his strength, is like a ship that
isn't sea-worthy,--he ought to be destroyed as useless. As for fighting
being unnatural, it's the most natural thing in nature. In the sea, the
big fish destroy the little fish; in the air, the great birds prey upon
the smaller ones; and on the land, the more powerful animals devour
those of less strength. Every thing has to fight for its existence, and
so does man."
"But man alone preys upon his own species," remarked the professor.
"You're out of your reckoning there, most decidedly, Mister Professor,"
replied Captain Compass hastily: "cocks, quails, pheasants, bulls, deer,
dogs, and cats fight each other, as long as they've got a leg to stand
upon; and the sow devours her own farrow, and the rabbit her own litter,
without any sort of compunction."
"There can at least be no apology for the ferocity with which man in a
state of civilisation, pursues his fellow-creatures to the death, don't
you see," said the doctor.
"Ferocity!" exclaimed the captain fiercely. "Who are so ferocious as
philosophers?"
The professor and the doctor uttered a simultaneous exclamation of
surprise.
"Did you ever hear of fellows the most ready for fighting," continued
the other, "filling the veins of live animals with poison,--maiming
and torturing poor dumb creatures, in every way ingenuity could devise,
merely for the sake of experiment; and then, after having indulged
themselves with the sight of such cruelty, sitting down quietly to
describe in the most minute manner, the agonies they have inflicted?
No, it's only the philosopher does these things,--the philosopher, who
shudders at the idea of a man killing those who seek to kill him, but
counts how many seconds an unoffending animal is in dying, after having
its brain scooped out, or its heart torn from its breast. Scrunch me, if
I wouldn't at once be the man who kills whoever opposes him, a thousand
times, than such a cowardly, calculating, inhuman miscreant."
What the reply to these observations might have been, it is impossible
to say, as the party were disturbed just at that moment by a knock at
the cabin door, and entrance being given, in walked the ungracious
villain Scrumpydike.
"Well, what news?" inquired the captain.
"Ship a fire, Sir," said the man, composedly.
"The ship on fire!" loudly exclaimed all at once, as they suddenly rose
from their seats with different degrees of alarm expressed on their
several countenances.
"Yes Sir, ship a fire, about half a mile off," replied the sailor,
looking as if he would have laughed if he had dared at the consternation
he had created.
It was wonderful to observe the change which took place on hearing
the last announcement. The idea of being roasted alive, would be
sufficiently terrible to scare the stoutest heart; and on this occasion
even the bold spirit of Oriel Porphyry quailed at the sudden and
frightful danger. It is a mistake to imagine, that the brave never feel
an emotion of fear; dangers that they have contemplated, may be met
without the slightest feeling of dread; but a new danger, for which they
are unprepared, is sure to leave upon the bravest of the brave some
impression of affright. The alarm, however, that had been created was
but momentary, and as soon as it was erased, the whole party hastened
upon deck to observe the conflagration. Scrumpydike had been left alone;
so seeing the coast clear, and the table covered with tempting viands,
he hastily proceeded to cram his mouth with preserves and fruits; and
was just raising a bottle to his lips, to wash them down with a good
draught of exquisite wine, when he beheld in the shadow of the room,
what he thought to be, two flaming eyes, fixed upon him, flashing
glances of scorn and indignation: the bottle fell from his hands into
a thousand pieces, his forbidding features expressed the most intense
horror, and with a piercing yell he fled from the room trembling with
all the terrors of an evil and superstitious nature, and leaving Zabra
more than usually gratified by the impression he had made.
The night was dark as the grave. There was no moon, and no stars. One
immense cloud hung over the broad surface of the ocean, like a mighty
pall, and the constant gusts of wind that hurried with their melancholy
voices through the sails of the ship, might be supposed to be the lament
of nature at the funeral of the world. The waters swept up to the
vessel, like waves of boiling pitch. The air was burthened with an
impenetrable gloom. An intense blackness enveloped the whole untrackable
length of way over which the ship had passed. Looking back from the
vessel all was like the prospect of the dead. Looking upward, it seemed
as if the eyes of heaven had been put out, and that a deep and awful
blindness had blasted the vision of the universe. Save at a considerable
distance ahead, all was a chaos of darkness--a visible nothingness--an
infinite void; but when the eye looked in that direction, flames
appeared to shoot out of the pitchy sea, licking the darkness, and
writhing, darting, twisting through the smoke like serpents in the
agonies of death. As the light became stronger, part of the hull and
rigging of a ship could be discerned, and hurrying to and fro, minute
forms, readily discovered to be human figures, became visible. Now a
shower of blazing sparks rushed as from a volcano, up, up, high into
the gloomy cloud, piercing its black depths with their lurid beams, and
immediately the flame seemed dulled; a moment after, they burst out
again, with a fiercer fury, and with a doubled volume; fragments of
burning timber were hurled into the air with a giant's strength; flames
red, blue, and yellow, and vapours of every conceivable colour from
white to black, rose and fell, and mingled and separated, like an army
of many nations fighting for mastery; and now that the whole extent of
the vessel was evidently one mass of resistless fire, its fierce rays
were reflected over the vast surface of the surrounding ocean, making
visible dark figures, that looked like despairing men struggling in the
drowning waves, and scorching rafters hissing and smoking around them.
Presently when the glare of light was at the strongest, and the ship was
seen blazing to the water's edge, a sudden movement was observed, the
fire sunk into the wave beneath it,--a tall column of thick grey smoke
rose in its place, and in a moment all was again swallowed up in deep,
utter, and boundless darkness.
It appeared as if the contemplation of this spectacle had hitherto
kept every one on board the Albatross from any consideration for the
sufferers; but a suggestion having been made, immediately each person
seemed to exceed the other in anxiety to render them assistance.
"Burn a blue light at the mast head!" exclaimed the captain.
"Ay, ay, Sir," responded Hearty.
"Set up every stitch of canvass she'll bear," continued the captain.
"Ay, ay, Sir," repeated the other.
"Put her machine to the fullest speed!"
"Ay, ay, Sir!" was again the ready exclamation.
"And bear right down upon the spot where the flames were last seen."
"Ay, ay, Sir."
In a moment the deck, the sails, and rigging were enveloped in a bright
blue flame, that gave the vessel and its crew the appearance of the ship
of death freighted with spectres; and the Albatross was rushing through
the waves with the velocity of lightning.
"There seems great danger, while going at such extraordinary speed, of
passing over the people who may have escaped from the burning vessel,
don't you see," remarked Dr. Tourniquet.
"Never fear," replied the captain. "If they can't keep a sharp look out
it's their own fault; and if they don't hail us when they see us, they
can't blame us for the consequences."
"Ship, ahoy! Starboard your helm!" cried a voice; and immediately a
shriek of piercing agony arose from under the ship's bows as the swift
vessel passed right over a large boat crammed full of men.
"Ease her! Stop her!" exclaimed a dozen voices at once, as soon as the
accident was discovered.
"There! I told you how 't would be, don't you see," said the doctor.
"Out with the galley and pick 'em up!" shouted Captain Compass, surlily;
and the men hastened to obey the command.
"Take two or three blue lights with you, and stow them in the stern
sheets," he continued.
"Gently with her," cried Hearty, as he and some of his messmates lowered
the boat into the sea, and the first who leapt into her was Oriel
Porphyry.
"Now, boys, pull away!" exclaimed the young merchant, as he laid hold of
an oar, "and you shall be rewarded for every man you save."
The sailors, however, wanted no such stimulus. They exerted themselves
bravely, and were quickly in the midst of between twenty or thirty
swimmers, struggling in the waves and shouting for assistance. The light
in the boat not only showed to the drowning men the near approach of the
aid they required, but directed its crew to the places where they could
be of most service.
"Help! help!" screamed one, with the water gurgling in his throat.
"Save me, or I sink!" cried another, nearly exhausted by his struggles.
"Here! here! here!" shouted a dozen voices in different directions.
Among the most active in the rescue was Oriel Porphyry, who was so
fortunate as to save many who were on the very point of sinking; and
being well seconded, with great difficulty and at considerable risk they
succeeded in hauling into their boat fifteen, many of whom were more
dead than alive; but the rest they saw engulphed in the waters before
they could reach them.
"Hollo!" exclaimed Hearty, in a tone of wonder and disappointment, as
the crew were about to return. "Where's the ship?"
Not a vestige of the Albatross was visible, and nothing was seen before
or around them but impenetrable darkness.
"May I be food for fishes, if this arn't a pleasant look out," observed
Climberkin.
"Surely they'll burn a light," said Oriel Porphyry.
"I've my misgivings on that 'ere head," muttered Hearty.
"But how can we get back to the ship without?" inquired the merchant's
son.
"There'd be no difficulty about that, Sir," here remarked Boggle, "if
we knowed her whereabouts; but a man as is blind can't see, and nobody
can point out a thing in the dark if they has no notion where it is."
"You're a conjuror," replied Oriel.
"No, not _quite_ so clever as that, Sir," rejoined the man. "But I likes
to have a notion o' things in general, as every man as is a man, and
thinks like a man, should."
"Well, I wish, among your notions of things in general, you could find
one that will lead us to the ship," said master Porphyry. "I don't like
the idea of these poor fellows in their wet jackets passing the night
here, nor have I any great desire for remaining here myself."
"That's not the worst we've got to expect, Sir," said Hearty; "for if
the ship holds on her course, when we can see our way in the mornin',
she'll be far enough out o' sight, and here we shall be--nearly thirty
on us--crammed together in a open boat out at sea, where there's no land
within more nor five hundred miles on us; without never a compass, or a
bit o' biscuit, or a drop o' water."
"Surely, Captain Compass has forgotten we cannot find our way back
without seeing the vessel," said Oriel Porphyry, now beginning to feel
some anxiety for the fate of himself and his associates. "But we cannot
be much above a hundred yards from the ship. Shout as loud as you can,
and that will put them in mind of our existence."
"Ahoy!--Ahoy!--Ahoy!--Hoy!--Hoy! Oy!" Every one who was able shouted as
loud as he could, and then waited in perfect silence for a reply.
"Yeho!--Yeho!--Yeho! Yho!--Ho!--O!" was replied by voices at a short
distance.
"That's some on 'em," exclaimed Hearty, steering the boat towards the
place from whence the sounds came.
"Hulloo! Hulloo! Ulloo! Loo! Oo!" was heard in another direction.
"Well if this arn't a most considerable cruel puzzlement, I'll be
transmogrified," observed Boggle. The men again rested on their oars,
some with perplexity, others with superstitious fear.
"There's the Albatross!" cried they, joyfully, all at once, as a blue
flame was seen to rise in the midst of the darkness, and disclose the
well-known figure of their beautiful vessel, at rather more than a
hundred yards from them.
"Pull away, mates!" shouted Hearty; and the oarsmen, straining every
muscle, soon brought their boat alongside the ship.