ain degree be in leading-strings, a very old and efficient officer
had been selected by the admiral as his first-lieutenant. Whether, in
common justice, the captain and his subordinate ought not to have
changed places, I leave the reader to guess; and it was the more unfair
towards the worthy old first-lieutenant, as, if the admiral had not
entertained such a high opinion of his abilities and judgment, as to
confide to him the charge of his son, he would long before have been
promoted himself to one of the many vacancies which so repeatedly
occurred.

Captain Carrington had all the faults, which, if not inherent, will
naturally be acquired by those who are too early intrusted with power.
He was self-sufficient, arbitrary, and passionate. His good qualities
consisted in a generous disposition, a kindness of heart when not
irritated, a manly courage, and a frank acknowledgment of his errors.
Had he been allowed to serve a proper time in the various grades of his
profession,--had he been taught to _obey_ before he had been permitted
to _command_,--he had within him all the materials for a good officer:
as it was, he was neither officer, sailor, nor any thing else, except a
_spoiled boy_. He would often attempt to carry on the duty as captain,
and as often failed from want of knowledge. He would commence
manoeuvring the ship, but find himself unable to proceed. At these
unfortunate _break downs_, he would be obliged to resign the
speaking-trumpet to the first-lieutenant; and if, as sometimes happened,
the latter (either from accident, or perhaps from a pardonable pique at
having the duty taken out of his hands), was not at his elbow to prompt
him when at fault--at these times the cant phrase of the officers, taken
from some farce, used to be, "_York, you're wanted_."

About an hour before sunset the juvenile captain made his appearance on
board, rather _fresh_ from taking leave of his companions and
acquaintances on shore. The frigate was got under weigh by the
first-lieutenant, and before the sun had disappeared was bounding over
the foaming seas in the direction of the country which had nurtured to
maturity the gnarled oak selected for her beautiful frame. Newton
joined his new messmates in drinking a prosperous passage to old
England; and, with a heart grateful for his improved prospects, retired
to the hammock which had been prepared for him.

When Newton rose in the morning, he found that the wind, had shifted