"As to all that," rejoined Sir Walter coolly, "supposing I were induced

to let my house, I have by no means made up my mind as to the

privileges to be annexed to it. I am not particularly disposed to

favour a tenant. The park would be open to him of course, and few navy

officers, or men of any other description, can have had such a range;

but what restrictions I might impose on the use of the

pleasure-grounds, is another thing. I am not fond of the idea of my

shrubberies being always approachable; and I should recommend Miss

Elliot to be on her guard with respect to her flower garden. I am very

little disposed to grant a tenant of Kellynch Hall any extraordinary

favour, I assure you, be he sailor or soldier."

After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say-"In all these cases, there are established usages which make everything

plain and easy between landlord and tenant. Your interest, Sir Walter,

is in pretty safe hands. Depend upon me for taking care that no tenant

has more than his just rights. I venture to hint, that Sir Walter

Elliot cannot be half so jealous for his own, as John Shepherd will be

for him."

Here Anne spoke-"The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, have at least an

equal claim with any other set of men, for all the comforts and all the

privileges which any home can give. Sailors work hard enough for their

comforts, we must all allow."

"Very true, very true. What Miss Anne says, is very true," was Mr

Shepherd's rejoinder, and "Oh! certainly," was his daughter's; but Sir

Walter's remark was, soon afterwards-"The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see any

friend of mine belonging to it."

"Indeed!" was the reply, and with a look of surprise.

"Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong grounds of

objection to it. First, as being the means of bringing persons of

obscure birth into undue distinction, and raising men to honours which

their fathers and grandfathers never dreamt of; and secondly, as it

cuts up a man's youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old

sooner than any other man. I have observed it all my life. A man is

in greater danger in the navy of being insulted by the rise of one

whose father, his father might have disdained to speak to, and of

becoming prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in any other

line. One day last spring, in town, I was in company with two men,

striking instances of what I am talking of; Lord St Ives, whose father

we all know to have been a country curate, without bread to eat; I was

to give place to Lord St Ives, and a certain Admiral Baldwin, the most

deplorable-looking personage you can imagine; his face the colour of

mahogany, rough and rugged to the last degree; all lines and wrinkles,

nine grey hairs of a side, and nothing but a dab of powder at top. 'In

the name of heaven, who is that old fellow?' said I to a friend of mine

who was standing near, (Sir Basil Morley). 'Old fellow!' cried Sir

Basil, 'it is Admiral Baldwin. What do you take his age to be?'

'Sixty,' said I, 'or perhaps sixty-two.' 'Forty,' replied Sir Basil,

'forty, and no more.' Picture to yourselves my amazement; I shall not

easily forget Admiral Baldwin. I never saw quite so wretched an

example of what a sea-faring life can do; but to a degree, I know it is

the same with them all: they are all knocked about, and exposed to

every climate, and every weather, till they are not fit to be seen. It

is a pity they are not knocked on the head at once, before they reach

Admiral Baldwin's age."




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