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Once in a hundred years is a book written that lives not alone for its own century but which becomes a document for the future centuries. Such a book is Dana's. When Marryat's and Cooper's sea novels are gone to dust, stimulating and joyful as they have been to generations of men, still will remain "Two Years Before the Mast."
A lady in deep mourning was sitting, crying bitterly, by a fire in small lodgings in the town of Yarmouth. Beside her stood a tall lad of sixteen. He was slight in build, but his schoolfellows knew that Charlie Marryat's muscles were as firm and hard as those of any boy in the school. In all sports requiring activity and endurance, rather than weight and strength, he was always conspicuous.
'They're nearer the scene of action than we are; but if it comes to indenting on the Punjab this early, there's more in this than meets the eye, said Martyn. 'Here to-day and gone to-morrow. Didn't come to stay for ever, said Scott, dropping one of Marryat's novels, and rising to his feet. 'Martyn, your sister's waiting for you.
A year later Jack was married, and Mesty, as major domo, held his post with dignity, and proved himself trustworthy. Peter Simple "Peter Simple," published in 1833, is in many respects the best of all Marryat's novels. Largely drawn from Marryat's own professional experiences, the story, with its vivid portraiture and richness of incident, is told with rare atmosphere and style.
He had already published Frank Mildmay, and received for it the handsome sum of £400, and negotiations were very possibly on foot concerning The King's Own, of which the composition had been completed. There is considerable difficulty in following the remainder of Marryat's life, owing to the silence of our only authority, Mrs Lean.
It was, I think, in my tenth year that I determined to join the Royal Navy. An uncle of mine had presented me with Captain Marryat's novels complete in one immense volume. I felt that a life on the ocean wave was the only one worth living. Accordingly I offered my services to the Admiralty as a midshipman. Micky, who had seen better days, was quite a capable scribe when sober.
It would be impossible to rival Marryat's narrative of episodes, and we shall gain no sense of reality by adjusting the materials of fiction to an exact accordance with fact. He says that these books, except Frank Mildmay, are "wholly fictitious in characters, in plot, and in events," but they are none the less truthful pictures of his life at sea.
History preserves the skeleton of facts and, here and there, a figure or a name; but it is in Marryat's novels that we find the mass of the nameless, that we see them in the flesh, that we obtain a glimpse of the everyday life and an insight into the spirit animating the crowd of obscure men who knew how to build for their country such a shining monument of memories.
Much of the time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but not those of a trashy sort. I read all of Bulwer's then published, Cooper's, Marryat's, Scott's, Washington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others that I do not now remember. Mathematics was very easy to me, so that when January came, I passed the examination, taking a good standing in that branch.
I answered that I had. "There is a story," he said thoughtfully, "in one of Marryat's books, about a beautiful woman who took the form of a wolf at night and devoured her own children. I wonder what put that idea into Marryat's head?" He pondered for some minutes, and then he cried out for some more brandy.
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