“Went to Deptford after breakfast in a hackney-coach—when we got there, we got out of the coach, walked down the street, and met the captain of the Leander. Went with him to the clerk of the cheque’s office, and had my name put in some book or other. Went with him to his lodgings, where he gave us a list of some things I was to get. Got a boat and went on board the Leander for the first time. Came home on a stage-coach—got a boat at London bridge—went up in it to the Adelphi—got out and went to the hotel.” In most other professions, the transition from the old to the new mode of life is more or less gradual; but in that of the sea, it is so totally abrupt, and without intervening preparation, that a boy must be either very much of a philosopher, or very much of a goose, not to feel, at first, well nigh overwhelmed with the change of circumstances. The luxuries and the kindnesses of home are suddenly exchanged for the coarse fare of a ship, and the rough intercourse of total strangers. The solicitude with which he has been watched heretofore, let the domestic discipline have been ever so strict, is tenderness itself, compared to the utter indifference, approaching to dislike, with which a youngster, or ‘squeaker,’ as he is well called, is received on board. Even if he possess any acquaintances amongst his own class, they have few consolations in their power; and, generally speaking, are rather disposed to laugh at the home-sick melancholy of a new comer, than to cheer him up, when his little heart is almost breaking. It so happened that I knew no one on board the ship, excepting two middies similarly circumstanced with myself. I was introduced also to a very gruff, elderly, service-soured master’s mate, to whose care, against his own wishes, I had been consigned by a mutual friend, a captain with whom he had formerly served. Our own excellent commanding officer had a thousand other things to look after, far more pressing than the griefs and cares of a dozen of boys under his charge. I felt bewildered and subdued, by the utter solitude of my situation, as my father shook me by the hand, and quitted the ship. I well recollect the feeling of despair when I looked round me, and was made conscious of my utter insignificance. “Shall I ever be able,” thought I, “to fill any respectable part in this vast scene? What am I to do? How shall I begin? Whom can I consult?” I could furnish no satisfactory answer to these queries; and though I had not the least idea of shrinking from what I had undertaken, yet, I confess, I was not far from repenting that I had been so decided about the matter.