“Or kills—which levels all the patients. You’re right, Gascoigne, I must patronise that stuff—for more reasons than one. Who was that person on deck in mufti?”
“The mufti, Jack? in other words, the chaplain of the ship; but he’s a prime sailor, nevertheless.”
“How’s that?”
“Why, he was brought up on the quarter-deck, served his time, was acting lieutenant for two years, and then, somehow or other, he bore up for the church.”
“Indeed—what were his reasons?”
“No one knows—but they say he has been unhappy ever since.”
“Why so?”
“Because he did a very foolish thing, which cannot now be remedied. He supposed at the time that he would make a good parson, and now that he has long got over his fit, he finds himself wholly unfit for it—he is still the officer in heart, and is always struggling with his natural bent, which is very contrary to what a parson should feel.”
“Why don’t they allow parsons to be broke by a court-martial, and turned out of the service, or to resign their commissions, like other people?”
“It won’t do, Jack—they serve Heaven—there’s a difference between that and serving his Majesty.”