“On the 30th of September, 1811, in lat. 40 deg. 50’ N., long. 65 deg.  W. (off the coast of New England), a gale of wind commenced at S.E., and soon blew with tremendous fury; the Aeolus was laid on her beam ends, her top-masts and mizen-masts were literally blown away, and she continued in this extremely perilous situation for at least half-an-hour.  Directions were given to cut away the main-yard, in order to save the main-mast and right the ship, but so great was the danger attending such an operation considered, that not a man could be induced to attempt it until Mr Marryat led the way.  His courageous conduct on this occasion excited general admiration, and was highly approved of by Lord James Townsend, one of whose company he also saved by jumping overboard at sea.”

The edition of 1873 contained a brief memoir of the author, by “Florence Marryat,” frequently reprinted.

Frank Mildmay, originally called The Naval Officer; or, Scenes and Adventures in the Life of Frank Mildmay, is here printed from the first edition published in 1829 by Henry Colborn, with the following motto on the title-page:—­

  My muse by no means deals in fiction;
  She gathers a repertory of facts,
  Of course with some reserve and slight restriction,
  But mostly traits of human things and acts. 
  Love, war, a tempest—­surely there’s variety;
  Also a seasoning slight of lubrication;
  A bird’s-eye view, too, of that wild society;
  A slight glance thrown on men of every station

  Don Juan.

R.B.J.

Chapter I

These are the errors, and these are the fruits of misspending our prime youth at the schools and universities, as we do, either in learning mere words, or such things chiefly as were better unlearned.—­MILTON.

My father was a gentleman, and a man of considerable property.  In my infancy and childhood I was weak and sickly, but the favourite of my parents beyond all my brothers and sisters, because they saw that my mind was far superior to my sickly frame, and feared they should never raise me to manhood; contrary, however, to their expectations, I surmounted all these untoward appearances, and attracted much notice from my liveliness, quickness of repartee, and impudence:  qualities which have been of much use to me through life.

I can remember that I was both a coward and a boaster; but I have frequently remarked that the quality which we call cowardice in a child, is no more than implying a greater sense of danger, and consequently a superior intellect.  We are all naturally cowards:  education and observation teach us to discriminate between real and apparent danger; pride teaches the concealment of fear, and habit renders us indifferent to that from which we have often escaped with impunity.  It is related of the Great Frederick that he misbehaved the first time he went into action; and it is certain that a novice in such a situation can no more command all his resources than a boy when first bound apprentice to a shoemaker can make a pair of shoes.  We must learn our trade, whether it be to stand steady before the enemy, or to stitch a boot; practice alone can make a Hoby or a Wellington.