After all, however, it is but too true, that, adopt what course we will of commendations or other rewards, we must still call in punishments to our assistance, from time to time. But there can be little doubt that any well-regulated system of cheerfulness, and just approbation of what is right, followed not from caprice, but as an express duty, gives into our hands the means of correcting things which are wrong, with greater effect, and at a much less cost of suffering, than if our general habit were that of always finding fault. For it is obvious, that when affairs are carried on upon the cheerful principle above described, the mere act of withholding praise becomes a sharp censure in itself—and this alone is sufficient to recommend its use. It doubles the work done, by quickening the hands of the labourers—doubles the happiness of all parties, both high and low—and it may also be said to double our means of punishing with effect; for it superadds a class of chastisements, dependent solely upon the interruption of favours, not upon the infliction of actual pain. The practical application of these rules to the ordinary course of naval discipline I shall probably have frequent opportunities of shewing. In the mean time, I shall merely remark, that in every situation in life, perhaps without any exception, much of our happiness or misery, as well as much of our success in the world, depends less upon the circumstances about us, than upon the manner in which, as a matter of habit and principle, we choose to view them. In almost every case there is something to approve of, quite as distinct, if we wish to see it, as there is of censure, though it may not otherwise be so conspicuous. It will, of course, very often be quite necessary to reprobate, without any sort of qualification, what passes before us; still, without in the smallest degree compromising our sense of what is wrong, there will always be a way—if there be a will—of expressing such sentiments that shall not be unsuitable to the golden precept which recommends us to take a cheerful view of things. There is one practical maxim, trite, indeed, though too little acted upon, but which bears so directly on this subject, that I wish exceedingly to urge it upon the notice of my young friends, from its being calculated to prove of much use to them in the business, as well as the true pleasures of life. In dealing with other men—no matter what their rank or station may be—we should consider not so much what they deserve at our hands, as what course is most suitable for us to follow. “My lord,” says Polonius to Hamlet, in speaking of the poor players, “I will use them according to their desert.” “Odd’s bodikin, man, much better!” is the answer of the judicious and kind-hearted prince. “Use every man after his desert, and who shall ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.”