One of the quarter-masters (who are old seamen, and have the care of the quarter-deck, and whose duty it is to call the officers to their watch, to turn the hour-glass, and go to the belfry to pull the bell-rope) was very attentive to the young gentlemen, and took them forward, where some of the sailors were dancing hornpipes on the main deck, to the music of a broken fiddle, played by an old black fidler. The young people gave the quarter-master (whom the sailors called Old Spun-yarn) some money to drink their healths; and he, in return, got one of the boys who waited on the midshipmen to go aloft, and stand upon the truck of the top-gallant-mast-head, which is at the very greatest height of the masts, where he stood on a space not larger than the top part of a dumb waiter, and drew in the pendant, and let it out again at pleasure. John and William shuddered to see him at such a tremendous height; but Henry seemed very much delighted at the boy’s activity.
The boat was now manned, at the request of Mr. Willock, to put them on shore; but as the wind had sprung up, the water had got rather rough; and before they had rowed far, a strong gale came on, when the boat’s crew were obliged to pull very hard to make the shore; and as the tide run strong, they were some hours before they could fetch, that is, reach the pier. During their passage to shore, the boat shipped several seas, and the young people began to be a little frightened, except Henry, who seemed more stout-hearted than any of the rest. Mr. Willock, for his part, was only uneasy on account of the delay it occasioned, and the apprehensions which would occur to the mind of his good lady. At length, however, they were all landed safe on shore; and after taking a glass of wine, Mr. Willock set out for home, where he arrived late at night. It had now become quite tempestuous, and Mrs. Willock and her little daughters were waiting with the most painful anxiety. Presently, however, the carriage was heard at a distance on the road, and the gates were thrown open by the servants, before the bells could be rung. Mrs. Willock, who was a most affectionate mother, ran into the hall to meet and embrace her children; and Caroline and Louisa ran to kiss their brothers, followed by all the servants in the house. The family were now all together, in the large parlour, where was a good fire, and all the comforts of home prepared for the travellers. When they were a little composed and refreshed, Mr. Willock drew from his pocket the Passions, and asked the young people if, when they came in, they had not seen a face like the one he shewed them? when they one and all cried out, that it was mamma: the truth was, that it was the passion of
RAPTURE.
“Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Willock, “it was the face of your dear mamma, and never better expressed; full of gratitude to God, and veneration for that Almighty providence which conducted you home in safety, her eyes were directed towards heaven, her mouth was only opened to breathe a prayer of thankfulness, and the two corners were a little turned up with an expression of joy.
“Rapture, my dear children,” said Mr. Willock,“is the most extatic of the passions; it is a sentiment full of love, joy, esteem, and veneration; it is an excess of pleasure, and is frequently too much to be borne; when so, it is relieved by tears; you will feel it sensibly, if ever you live to have children.
“By the Rapture your dear mother shewed at your safe return, you may do more than guess at how much she must love you; you will, I am sure, be grateful for so much tenderness and affection, and never do any thing that can give her pain. Thank God that we are once more happy together; and let us go to our beds full of that sentiment, and to-morrow morning, at breakfast, you shall entertain your mamma with an account of your voyage.”
The next morning, at breakfast, our happy domestic party met together, refreshed, by undisturbed rest, the repose of love and peace.
Henry related to his mamma all the particulars of their naval excursion the day before, which he concluded by saying, that he should like very much to go to sea, when Mr. Willock mildly interrupted him—“My dear Henry,” said he, “do not make your mamma uneasy by saying so. If it is proper and suitable to the views in life which we have for you, your inclination will be studied; and if it is not, I am sure that you have too much good sense, as well as love for your parents, to wish for any thing that they might disapprove.”—Henry blushed a little, and said, “Indeed, sir, I will never think of any thing that you or my mamma may disapprove.”—“That is spoken like a very good and sensible boy,” answered Mr. Willock: “but,” said he, “suppose that we return to the Passions of Le Brun, and see whether his faces will speak (for faces often do speak by strong expressions of the features) on the subject.” He opened the book, which lay on the table, and the first portrait which presented itself was