that the captain may peer into them, and ascertain whether or not all is clean and nice.  With the end of his wooden leg the cook then gives a twist to the cock of the coppers, to let some of the pease-soup in preparation run off and show itself to the noble commander’s inspection.  The oven-doors are next opened, the range or large fire stirred up, and every hole and corner exposed to view; the object of the grand visitation being to see that this essential department of the ship is in the most perfect state of cleanliness and good order.

Still further forward, before the galley, in the very nose of her, as the foremost nook or angle of the ship is called, and a little on one side, lies the sick-bay, or hospital; at the door of which the surgeon, backed by his assistants, receives the captain and his double the first lieutenant, and his double the mate of the main-deck.  In they march, all in a row.  The captain takes care not to pass any invalid’s hammock without dropping a word of encouragement to its pale inmate, or begging to be informed if anything further can be done to make him comfortable.  Only those men who are very unwell, however, are found in their beds; the rest being generally seated on the chests and boxes placed round the bay, a part of the ship which, I need scarcely mention, is kept, if possible, more clean, airy, and tidy than any other.  If a speck of dirt be found on the deck, or a gallipot or phial out of its place, woe betide the loblolly-boy, the assistant-surgeon’s assistant, and the constant attendant upon the hospital.  This personage is usually a fellow of some small knowledge of reading and writing, who, by overhearing the daily clinical lectures of the doctor, contrives to pick up a smattering of medical terms, which he loses no opportunity of palming off upon his messmates below as sublime wisdom sucked in at Alma Mater.

Just before leaving the sick-bay, the captain generally turns to the surgeon, and says, as a matter of course, “Doctor, mind you always send aft at dinner-time for anything and everything you require for the sick;” and I have frequently remarked that his whole tone and manner are greatly softened during this part of the rounds, perhaps without his being conscious of any difference.  A very small share of attention on the part of a commanding-officer on such occasions, if kindly and unaffectedly exercised, leaves a wonderfully favourable impression, not only among the invalids to whom it is more particularly addressed, but seldom fails to extend its salutary influence over the rest of the ship’s company, and thus, of course, contributes materially to strengthen and to maintain his authority.  Such expressions of sympathy never fail to act like drops of oil on the machinery of discipline, making all its wheels work smoothly and sweetly.