Chapter 22 - Page 2

happens with them that
anything occurs, or anything is seen, to which the last cruise, or, if
the vessel be engaged in trade, the last voyage, did not at least
furnish a parallel; usually the past event, or the more distant object,
has the advantage. He who has a sufficient store of this reserved
knowledge and experience, it will at once be seen, enjoys a great
superiority over him who has not, and is placed above the necessity of
avowing a sensation as humiliating as wonder. On the present occasion,
however, bur few held out against the novelty of the actual situation of
the ship; most on board being willing enough to allow that they had
never before been beneath cliffs that had such a union of the
magnificent, the picturesque, and the soft; though a few continued firm,
acting up to the old characters with the consistency of settled
obstinacy.

Strand, the boatswain, was one of those who, on all such occasions,
"died hard." He was the last man in the ship who ever gave up a
prejudice; and this for three several reasons: he was a cockney, and
believed himself born in the centre of human knowledge; he was a seaman,
and understood the world; he was a boatswain, and stood upon
his dignity.

As the Proserpine fanned slowly along the land, this personage took a
position between the knight-heads, on the bowsprit, where he could
overlook the scene, and at the same time hear the dialogue of the
forecastle; and both with suitable decorum. Strand was as much of a
monarch forward as Cuffe was aft; though the appearance of a lieutenant,
or of the master, now and then, a little dimmed the lustre of his reign.
Still, Strand succumbed completely to only two of the officers--the
captain and the first lieutenant; and not always to these, in what he
conceived to be purely matters of sentiment. In the way of duty, he
understood himself too well ever to hesitate about obeying an order; but
when it came to opinions, he was a man who could maintain his own, even
in the presence of Nelson.

The first captain of the forecastle was an old seaman of the name of
Catfall. At the precise moment when Strand occupied the position named,
between the knight-heads, this personage was holding a discourse with
three or four of the forecastle-men, who stood on the heel of the
bowsprit, inboard--the etiquette of the ship not permitting these
worthies to show their heads above the nettings. Each of the party had
his arms folded; each chewed tobacco; each had his hair in a queue; and
each occasionally hitched up his trousers, in a way to prove that he did
not require the aid of suspenders in keeping his nether garments in
their proper place. It may be mentioned, indeed, that the point of
division between the jacket