The King's Own Part 24

Note 1. The phraseology of sailors has been so caricatured of late, that I am afraid my story will be considered as translated into English.

Seamen, however, must decide which is correct.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

And, lo! while he was expounding, in set terms, the most abstruse of his pious doctrines, the head of the tub whereon the good man stood gave way, and the preacher was lost from before the eyes of the whole congregation.

_Life of the Reverend Mr Smith, SS_.

Seymour, who was always the companion of Captain M---, whenever either instruction or amus.e.m.e.nt was to be gained, now quitted the surveying party to join Macallan, who still continued seated on the rocks, reflecting upon the remarkable coincidence which the c.o.xswain had narrated, sufficient in itself to confirm the superst.i.tious ideas of the sailors for another century. His thoughts naturally reverted to the other point, in which seafaring men are equally bigoted, the disastrous consequences of "sailing on a Friday;" the origin of which superst.i.tion can easily be traced to early Catholicism, when out of respect for the day of universal redemption, they were directed by their pastors to await the "morrow's sun."

"Thus," mentally exclaimed Macallan, "has religion degenerated into superst.i.tion; and that which, from the purity of its origin, would have commanded our respect, is now only deserving of our contempt. It is by the motives that have produced them, that our actions must be weighed.

That which once was an offering of religious veneration and love, is now a tribute to superst.i.tion and to fear. Well, Seymour," said he, addressing his companion, "how do you like surveying?"

"Not much; the sun is hot, and the glare so powerful that I am almost blind. What a pity it is that we had not some trees here, to shade us from the heat! I should like to plant some for the benefit of those who may come after us."

"A correct feeling on your part, my boy; but no trees would grow here at present--there is no soil."

"There is plenty of some sort or other in the part where we have been surveying."

"Yes, the sand thrown up by the sea, and the particles of sh.e.l.ls and rock, which have been triturated by the wave, or decomposed by the alternate action of the elements; but there is no vegetable matter, without which there can be no vegetable produce. Observe, w.i.l.l.y,--the skeleton of this earth is framed of rocks and mountains, which have been proudly rearing their heads into the clouds, or lying in dark majesty beneath the seas, since the creation of the world, when they were fixed by the Almighty architect, to remain till time shall be no more. Over them, we find the wrecks of a former world--once as beautiful, as thickly peopled, but more thoughtless and more wicked than the present, which was hurled into one general chaos, and its component, but incongruous parts, amalgamated in awful mockery by the deluge--that tremendous evidence of the wrath of Heaven. But it has long pa.s.sed away; and o'er the relics of former creation, o'er the kneaded ma.s.s of man in his pride, of woman in her beauty, of arts in their splendour, of vice in her zenith, and of virtue in her tomb, we are standing upon another, teeming with life, and yielding forth her fruits in the season as before. But, w.i.l.l.y, the supports of life are not to be found in primeval rocks or antediluvial remains. It is from the superficial covering, the thin crust with which the earth is covered, composed of the remains of former existence, of the breccia of exhausted nature, that animal creation derives its support; and it is the grand axiom of the universe, that _animal life can only be supported by animal remains_. From the meanest insect that crawls upon the ground, to man in his perfection, life is supported and continued by animal and vegetable food; and it is only the decayed matter returned to the earth, which enables the lofty cedar to extend its boughs, or the lowly violet to exhale its perfume. This is a world of eternal reproduction and decay--one endless cycle of the living preying on the dead--a phoenix, yearly, daily, and hourly springing from its ashes, in renewed strength and beauty. The blade of gra.s.s, which shoots from the soil, flowers, casts its seed, and dies, to make room for its offspring, nourished by the relics of its parent, is a type of the never-changing law, controlling all nature, even to man himself, who must pa.s.s away to make room for the generation which is to come."

The boat which, returning from the ship, appeared like a black speck on the water, indicated that the dinner-hour was at hand; and Price and the purser, who had come on sh.o.r.e with Macallan, now joined him and w.i.l.l.y, who were sitting down on the rocks at the water's edge.

"Well, Macallan," said Price, "it's a fine thing to be a philosopher.

What is that which Milton says? Let me see!--sweet--something--divine philosophy--I forget the exact words. Well, what have you caught?"

"If you've caught nothing, doctor, you're better off than I am," said the purser, wiping his brow, "for I've caught a headache."

"I have been very well amused," replied Macallan.

"Ay, I suppose, like what's-his-name in the forest--you recollect?"

"No, indeed, I do not."

"Don't you? Bless my soul--you know, sermons in stones, and good in everything. I forget how the lines run. Don't you recollect, O'Keefe?"

continued Price, speaking loud in the purser's ear.

"No, I never _collect_. I don't understand these things," replied the purser, taking his seat by Macallan, and addressing him--"I cannot think what pleasure there can be in poking about the rocks as you do."

"It serves to amuse me, O'Keefe."

"_Abuse_ you, my dear fellow! Indeed I never meant it--I beg your pardon--you mistook me."

"It was my fault. I did not speak sufficiently loud. Make no apology."

"Too _proud_ to make an apology!--No, indeed--I only asked what amus.e.m.e.nt you could find?--that's all."

"What amus.e.m.e.nt?" replied Macallan, rising from his seat, annoyed at these repeated attacks from all quarters upon his favourite study.

"Listen to me, and I will explain to you how investigation is the parent of both amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction. What is this rock that I am standing on? Has it remained here for ages to be dashed by the furious ocean?-- or has it lately sprung from the depths, from the silent labour of the indefatigable zoophytes? Look at its sides; behold the variety of marine vegetation with which it is loaded. Are they of the cla.s.s of the ulvae, confervae, or fuci? to be welcomed as old acquaintance, or, hitherto unnoticed, to be added to the catalogue of Nature's endless stores? And what are those corals, that, like mimic tenants of the forest, extend their graceful boughs! Look at the variety of sh.e.l.ls which are adhering to its sides. Observe the patellae--with what tenacity they cling to save themselves from being washed into the deep water, and being devoured by the fishes that are playing in its chasms!

What a source of endless amus.e.m.e.nt, what a field for deep reflection, is there in the investigation of this _one little rock_! When you contemplate the instinct of the different species, the powers given to them, so adapted to their wants and their privations--is not the eye delighted, is not the mind enlarged, and are not the feelings harmonised? Study the works of the creation, and you turn a desert into a peopled city--a barren rock into a source of admiration and delight.

Nay, search into Nature for a few minutes, and you rise a better man.

Dive into--"

What the conclusion of the doctor's rhapsody may have been is not known; for, stamping too energetically upon the seaweed on the edge of the rock, his foot slipped, and he disappeared, with the perpendicular descent and velocity of a deep-sea lead, into the water alongside of it.

Marshall, the c.o.xswain, who had been astonished at his speech, to which he had listened with mouth open for want of comprehension, quite forgot the respect due to an officer, at this unexpected finale.

"Watch, there, watch!" cried the man, and then threw himself down, and rolled in convulsions of laughter. Price and w.i.l.l.y, whose mirth was almost as excessive, did, however, run to his a.s.sistance, and caught him by the collar as he rose again to the surface, for it was considerably out of his depth; while the deaf purser, whose eyes had been fixed on the ground, in deep attention to catch the doctor's words, and whose ears were not sufficiently acute to hear the splash, looked up as they were going to his a.s.sistance, and asked, with surprise, "Where's the doctor?"

The sides of the rock were so slippery, that the united efforts of Price and Seymour (whose powers were much enfeebled from extreme mirth) were not sufficient to haul Macallan upon terra firma. "Marshall, come here directly, sir, and help us," cried w.i.l.l.y,--an order which the c.o.xswain, who was sufficiently recovered, immediately obeyed.

"Give me your hand, Mr Macallan," said the man, as the surgeon was clinging to the seaweed; "it's no use holding on by them slippery _hanimals_. Now, then, Mr Price--all together."

"Ay, and as soon as you please," called out the malicious boatkeeper of the gig--"I seed a large shark but a minute ago."

"Quick--quick!" roared the surgeon, who already imagined his leg encircled by the teeth of the ravenous animal.

By their united efforts, Macallan was at last safely landed--and, after much sputtering, blowing, and puffing, was about to address the c.o.xswain in no very amicable manner, when the purser interrupted him.

"By the powers, doctor, but you took the right way to have a close examination of all those fine things which you were giving us a catalogue of; but now give us the remainder of your speech--you gave us a practical ill.u.s.tration of diving."

"What sort of sensation was it, doctor?" said Price. "You recollect Shakespeare--and 'O, methinks what pain it was to drown'--Let me see-- something--"

"Pray don't tax your memory, Price; it's something like our country,-- past all further taxation."

"That's the severest thing you've said since we've sailed together.

You're out of humour, doctor. Well, you know what Shakespeare says: 'There never yet was found a philosopher'--something about the toothache. I forget the words."

These attacks did not at all tend to restore the equanimity of the doctor's temper, which, it must be acknowledged, had some excuse for being disturbed by the events of the morning; but he proved himself a wise man, for he made no further reply. The boat pulled in, and the party returned on board; and when Macallan had divested himself of his uncomfortable attire, and joined his messmates at the dinner-table, he had recovered his usual serenity of disposition, and joined himself in the laugh which had been created at his expense.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A man must serve his time to every trade, Save censure.--Critics all are ready made.

Take hackneyed jokes from Miller, got by rote, With just enough of learning to misquote; A mind well skill'd to find or forge a fault, A turn for punning--call it Attic salt: Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a lucky hit, Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pa.s.s for wit, Care not for feeling,--pa.s.s your proper jest, And stand a critic! hated, yet caress'd.

BYRON.

The survey was continued. One morning, after a fatiguing walk from point to point, occasionally crossing from one islet to the others in the boats, the party collected under a projecting rock, which screened them from the rays of the vertical sun, and the repast, which had been brought from the ship in the morning, was spread before them. The party consisted of Captain M---; Pearce, the master; the surgeon, who had accompanied them to explore the natural productions of the reef; and the confidential clerk of Captain M---, a man of the name of Collier, who had been many years in his service, and who was now employed in noting down the angles taken with the theodolite.

Tired with the labours of the morning, Captain M--- did not rise immediately after their meal had been despatched, but entered into conversation with the surgeon, who was looking over the memoranda which he had made relative to the natural history of the reef.

"Do you intend to write a book, Mr Macallan, that you have collected so many remarks?"