“York, you’re wanted,” observed the lieutenant abaft to the marine officer, dropping down the corners of his mouth.

“York, you’re wanted,” tittered the midshipmen, in whispers, as they passed each other.

“Well, I’ve won your grog, Jim,” cried one of the marines, who was standing at the forebrace; “I knew he’d never do it.”

“He’s like me,” observed another, in a low tone; “he left school too ’arly, and lost his edication.”

Such were the results of injudicious patronage.  A fine ship entrusted to a boy, ignorant of his duty; laughed at, not only by the officers, but even by the men; and the honour of the country at stake, and running no small risk of being tarnished, if the frigate met with a vigorous opponent.[1] Thank God, this is now over!  Judicious regulations have put a stop to such selfish and short-sighted patronage.  Selfish, because those who were guilty of it risked the honour of the nation to advance the interests of their proteges; short-sighted, because it is of little use making a young man a captain if you cannot make him an officer.  I might here enter into a discussion which might be of some use, but it would be out of place in a work intended more for amusement than for instruction; nor would it in all probability be read.  I always make it a rule myself, to skip over all those parts introduced in a light work which are of denser materials than the rest; and I cannot expect but that others will do the same.  There is a time and place for all things; and like the master of Ravenswood, “I bide my time.”

[Footnote 1:  It is true that an officer must now serve a certain time in the various grades before promotion, which time is supposed to be sufficient for him to acquire a knowledge of his profession; but whether that knowledge is obtained depends, as before, upon the young officer’s prospects in life.  If from family interest he is sure of promotion, he is not quite so sure of being a seaman.]

The frigate dashed gallantly through the water, at one time careening to an adverse wind, at another rolling before a favouring gale:  and, to judge from her rapid motion, she was not in such very bad trim as Captain Carrington had found out.  Each day rapidly brought her nearer to their cherished home, as “she walked the waters like a thing of life.”  I can conceive no prouder situation in this world than being captain of a fine frigate, with a well-disciplined crew; but d—­n your eight-and-twenties!

“We had better take in the royals, if you please, sir,” said the first lieutenant, as he came, with his hat in his hand, into the cabin, where the captain was at dinner with several of the officers, the table crowded with a variety of decanters and French green bottles.

“Pho! nonsense!  Mr Nourse; we’ll carry them a little longer,” replied the captain, who had been carrying too much sail another way.  “Sit down and take a glass of wine with us.  You always cry out before you’re hurt, Nourse.”