"The cruises of the _Impérieuse_ were periods of continual excitement,
from the hour in which she hove up her anchor till she dropped it
again in port; the day that passed without a shot being fired in
anger, was to us a blank day: the boats were hardly secured on the
booms than they were cast loose and out again; the yard and stay
tackles were forever hoisting up and lowering down. The expedition
with which parties were formed for service; the rapidity of the
frigate's movements night and day; the hasty sleep snatched at all
hours; the waking up at the report of the guns, which seemed the only
keynote to the hearts of those on board, the beautiful precision of
our fire, obtained by constant practice; the coolness and courage of
our captain, inoculating the whole of the ship's company; the
suddenness of our attacks, the gathering after the combat, the killed
lamented, the wounded almost envied; the powder so burnt into our face
that years could not remove it; the proved character of every man and
officer on board, the implicit trust and adoration we felt for our
commander; the ludicrous situations which would occur in the extremest
danger and create mirth when death was staring you in the face, the
hair-breadth escapes, and the indifference to life shown by all--when
memory sweeps along these years of excitement even now, my pulse beats
more quickly with the reminiscence."

After some comparatively colourless service in other frigates, during
which he gained the personal familiarity with West Indian life of which
his novels show many traces, he completed his time as a midshipman, and
in 1812, returned home to pass. As a lieutenant his cruises were
uneventful and, after being several times invalided, he was promoted
Commander in 1815, just as the Great War was closing. He was now only
twenty-three, and had certainly received an admirable training for the