All now repaired on deck, where, it is reported, that Mr. Barns’s presentiment proved but too well-founded; for, that while he was preaching, a most unexpected squall came on a sudden—took hold of the ship—gave her one thorough shake—and laid her on her beam-ends; and, that all being in confusion, the men in crowds running forward with the ropes to shorten sail, &c. &c., it was some time before he, Mr. Barns, was missed, and that when he was missed, while one talked of lowering a boat down, and another ran to look over the ship’s side, it was Mr. Montgomery, who at length discovered him, feet uppermost, in the lee scuppers, where the first reel of the vessel had tumbled him, with the heavy cannonade slides, and what not else besides, heaped on top of him.
Edmund very soon perceived, that this unbecoming levity of his messmates on sacred subjects, had much of its origin in the character of the admiral himself: for Lord Fitz-Ullin, though a man of so much personal dignity, that in his own manners he never offended against outward decorum, had, unfortunately, no settled principle on religious subjects—no happy conviction, that moral obligations, with all the thousand blessings that flow from them, have but one pure and inexhaustible source, in that simple, practical religion, which the universal Father gave his children to promote their happiness, temporal as well as eternal; that religion which saith, “Do unto others, as you would that they should do unto you;” that religion, which for every possible duty, hath a plain, practicable precept, which if followed by all, would realize the bliss of heaven even upon earth.
But Lord Fitz-Ullin had been disgusted, by frequently, during a considerable portion of very early life, being compelled to hear the irrational railing of a fanatical preacher against good works. The man might have meant right, but he knew not how to express himself; and Lord Fitz-Ullin, unable to adopt his doctrine, such as it met the ear, without further examination, rejected, or at least thenceforward neglected, all religion. Something of this was felt, if not seen, by those who looked up to the admiral, as to a man older than themselves—a man at the head of the honourable profession to which they had devoted themselves—and a man, as eminent in brilliancy of courage and talent, as in rank, both hereditary and acquired. The mischief done, therefore, bore proportion to the extensive influence which those shining qualities and exalted circumstances bestowed on their possessor.
With respect to his lordship’s choice of a chaplain, being blameably indifferent on the subject, he had appointed Mr. Barns, on the application of a friend, without any regard whatever to his fitness or unfitness to fill the situation. Our hero, notwithstanding, found his patron both a kind and most agreeable friend; and one, whose partiality to him daily increased. Lord Fitz-Ullin had been, all his life, in love with glory; in Edmund he recognized much of the same spirit, accompanied, too, by all that romance and enthusiasm of youth, so delightful to those, who, having retained such feelings longer than the usual period, find little that is congenial in the minds of people of their own age.
“I wish, Montgomery,” said the Earl, one day that Edmund dined with his lordship, “I wish you could inspire Ormond by your example—he is so indolent. I fear,” he continued, “I have given him bad habits: he has always, in fact, been sure of whatever he wished for, without the slightest exertion on his own part.”
“Why, yes,” said Ormond, playfully; “you know, sir, I am aware that I shall be an admiral one of those days, without taking any trouble about the matter.”
“Oscar,” said his father, “remember, that though you may attain to rank by interest, you can never obtain glory, but by deserving it!”
“Have I not the glory of being your son, sir!” replied Oscar, smiling.