Let us hold to our own Christian creed, the beautiful, often-professed, and seldom-practised doctrine of love, but let us not despise our fellow-men, for we are all branches from the common root of truth."'
'"Man comes out of darkness into light. He tarries awhile and then passes into darkness again. Micah, lad, the days are passing, mine as well as thine. Let them not be wasted. They are few in number. What says Petrarch?' To him that enters, life seems infinite; to him that departs, nothing.' Let every day, every hour, be spent in furthering the Creator's end--in getting out whatever power for good there is in you. What is pain, or work, or trouble? The cloud that passes over the sun. But the result of work well done is everything. It is eternal. It lives and waxes stronger through the centuries. Pause not for rest. The rest will come when the hour of work is past."'
'"May God protect and guard you! There is no great news. The Portsmouth garrison hath marched to the West. Sir John Lawson, the magistrate, hath been down here threatening your father and others, but he can do little for want of proofs. Church and Dissent are at each other's throats as ever. Truly the stern law of Moses is more enduring than the sweet words of Christ. Adieu, my dear lad! All good wishes from your grey-headed friend, ZACHARIAH PALMER."'
'Od's fish!' cried Sir Gervas, as I folded up the letter, 'I have heard Stillingfleet and Tenison, but I never listened to a better sermon. This is a bishop disguised as a carpenter. The crozier would suit his hand better than the plane. But how of our seaman friend? Is he a tarpaulin theologian--a divine among the tarry-breeks?'
'Solomon Sprent is a very different man, though good enough in his way,' said I. 'But you shall judge him from his letter.'
'"Master Clarke. Sir,--When last we was in company I had run in under the batteries on cutting-out service, while you did stand on and off in the channel and wait signals. Having stopped to refit and to overhaul my prize, which proved to be in proper trim alow and aloft--"'
'What the devil doth he mean?' asked Sir Gervas.
'It is a maid of whom he talks--Phoebe Dawson, the sister of the blacksmith. He hath scarce put foot on land for nigh forty years, and can as a consequence only speak in this sea jargon, though he fancies that he uses as pure King's English as any man in Hampshire.'
'Proceed, then,' quoth the Baronet.
'"Having also read her the articles of war, I explained to her the conditions under which we were to sail in company on life's voyage, namely:"'
'"First. She to obey signals without question as soon as received."'
'"Second. She to steer by my reckoning."'
'"Third. She to stand by me as true consort in foul weather, battle, or shipwreck."'
'"Fourth. She to run under my guns if assailed by picaroons, privateeros, or garda-costas."'
'"Fifth. Me to keep her in due repair, dry-dock her at intervals, and see that she hath her allowance of coats of paint, streamers, and bunting, as befits a saucy pleasure boat."'
'"Sixth. Me to take no other craft in tow, and if any be now attached, to cut their hawsers."'
'"Seventh. Me to revictual her day by day."'
'"Eighth. Should she chance to spring a leak, or be blown on her beam ends by the winds of misfortune, to stand by her and see her pumped out or righted."'
'"Ninth. To fly the Protestant ensign at the peak during life's voyage, and to lay our course for the great harbour, in the hope that moorings and ground to swing may be found for two British-built crafts when laid up for eternity."'
'"'Twas close on eight-bells before these articles were signed and sealed. When I headed after you I could not so much as catch a glimpse of your topsail. Soon after I heard as you had gone a-soldiering, together with that lean, rakish, long-sparred, picaroon-like craft which I have seen of late in the village. I take it unkind of you that you have not so much as dipped ensign to me on leaving.