It often happens that a crew, composed wholly or in part of old sailors, will make an experiment on the temper and character of the officers at the commencement of the voyage. When this is the case, the first night after leaving port will decide the question whether the officers or the men will have command of the ship. If the officers are not firm and peremptory; if they are deficient in nerve, and fail to rebuke, in a prompt and decided manner, aught bordering on insolence or insubordination in the outset, farewell to discipline, to good order and harmony, for the remainder of the passage. Captain Bacon was a man of slight figure, gentlemanly exterior, and pleasant countenance. Although his appearance commanded respect, it was not calculated to inspire awe; and few would have supposed that beneath his quiet physiognomy and benevolent cast of features were concealed a fund of energy and determination of character which could carry him safely through difficulty and danger. Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was a young man of intelligence, familiar with his duties, and blessed with kind and generous feelings. Unlike Stetson, he was neither a blackguard nor a bully. After some little consultation among the old sailors who composed the starboard watch, it was thought advisable to begin with him, and ascertain if there was any GRIT in his composition. It was about six bells eleven o'clock at night when the wind hauling to the north-west, Mr. Bachelder called out, "Forward there! Lay aft and take a pull of the weather braces." One of the men, a smart active fellow, who went by the name of Jack Robinson, and had been an unsuccessful candidate for the office of boatswain, replied in a loud and distinct tone, "Ay, ay!" This was agreed on as the test. I knew the crisis had come, and awaited with painful anxiety the result. Mr. Bachelder rushed forward into the midst of the group near the end of the windlass. "Who said, 'Ay, ay'?" he inquired, in an angry tone. "I did," replied Robinson. "YOU did! Don't you know how to reply to an officer in a proper manner?" "How SHOULD I reply?" said Robinson, doggedly. "Say 'Ay, ay, SIR,' when you reply to me," cried Bachelder, in a tone of thunder at the same time seizing him by the collar and giving him a shake "and," continued he, "don't undertake to cut any of your shines here, my lad! If you do, you will be glad to die the death of a miserable dog. Lay aft, men, and round in the weather braces!" "Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay, sir!" was the respectful response from every side. The yards were trimmed to the breeze, and when the watch gathered again on the forecastle it was unanimously voted that IT WOULD NOT DO!