lar as it was--it was manifest
that, almost to a man, they abhorred the idea of going into action.

And why should they desire a war? Would their wages be raised? Not a
cent. The prize-money, though, ought to have been an inducement. But of
all the "rewards of virtue," prize-money is the most uncertain; and
this the man-of-war's-man knows. What, then, has he to expect from war?
What but harder work, and harder usage than in peace; a wooden leg or
arm; mortal wounds, and death? Enough, however, that by far the
majority of the common sailors of the Neversink were plainly concerned
at the prospect of war, and were plainly averse to it.

But with the officers of the quarter-deck it was just the reverse. None
of them, to be sure, in my hearing at least, verbally expressed their
gratification; but it was unavoidably betrayed by the increased
cheerfulness of their demeanour toward each other, their frequent
fraternal conferences, and their unwonted animation for several clays
in issuing their orders. The voice of Mad Jack--always a belfry to
hear--now resounded like that famous bell of England, Great Tom of
Oxford. As for Selvagee, he wore his sword with a jaunty air, and his
servant daily polished the blade.

But why this contrast between the forecastle and the quarter-deck,
between the man-of-war's-man and his officer? Because, though war would
equally jeopardize the lives of both, yet, while it held out to the
sailor no promise of promotion, and what is called _glory_, these
things fired the breast of his officers.

It is no pleasing task, nor a thankful one, to dive into the souls of
some men; but there are occasions when, to bring up the mud from the
bottom, reveals to us on what soundings we are, on what coast we adjoin.

How were these officers to gain glory? How but by a distinguished
slaughtering of their fellow-men. How were they to be promoted? How but
over the buried heads of killed comrades and mess-mates.

This hostile contrast between the feelings with which the common seamen
and the officers of the Neversink looked forward to this more than
possible war, is one of many instances that might be quoted to show the
antagonism of their interests, the incurable antagonism in which they
dwell. But can men, whose interests are diverse, ever hope to live
together in a harmony uncoerced? Can the brotherhood of the race of
mankind ever hope to prevail in a man-of-war, where one man's bane is
almost another's blessin