Recollecting that my dinner party at the George was to take place this day, and remembering the captain’s promise that I should go on shore whenever I pleased, I thought it only necessary to say I was going, merely passing the usual compliment to my superior.  I therefore went to him, with a modest assurance, and told him of my engagement and my intention.

“Upon my honour, Sir,” cried he, putting his arms akimbo, and staring me full in the face; “you have a tolerable sea-stock of modest assurance; no sooner come on board than you ask leave to go on shore again, and at the same time you have the impudence to tell me, knowing how much I abhor the vice, that you mean to wet your commission, and of course to get beastly drunk, and to make others as bad as yourself.  No, Sir; I’d have you to know, that as captain of this ship, and as long as I have the honour to command her, I am magister morum.”

“That is precisely what I was coming to, Sir,” said I, “when you interrupted me.  Knowing how difficult it is to keep young men in order, without the presence of some one whom they respect, and can look up to as an example, I was going to request the honour of your company as my guest.  Nothing, in my opinion, could so effectually repress any tendency to improper indulgence.”

“There you speak like a child of my own bringing up,” replied Captain G——­:  “I did not give you credit for so much good sense.  I am far from throwing a wet blanket over any innocent mirth.  Man is man after all—­give him but the bare necessaries of life, and he is no more than a dog.  A little mirth on such an occasion, is not only justifiable, but praiseworthy.  The health of a good king, like ours, God bless him, should always be drank in good wine; and as you say the party is to be select, and the occasion the wetting of your commission, I shall have no objection to come and give away the bride; but, remember, no hard drinking—­no indecorum—­and I’ll do my best, not only to keep the young bloods in order, but to add my humble powers to the hilarity of the evening.”

I thanked him for his kind condescension.  He then gave a few directions to Skysail, the first lieutenant, and, ordering his gig to be manned, offered me a passage on shore.

This was, indeed, a mark of favour never before conferred on any officer in the ship, and all hands spontaneously turned out to see the sight.  The first lieutenant cocked his eye, which was more than saying, “This is too good to last long.”  However, into the boat we went, and pulled away for old Sally-port.  The harbour-tide rolling out, we passed close to the buoy of the Boyne.

“Ah! well I remember that old ship; I was midshipman of her when she blew up.  I was signal midshipman.  I was in the act of making the signal of distress, when up I went.  Damnation!  I thought I never should have come down any more.”

“Indeed, Sir,” said I, “I thought there had been no one on board at the time.”