A commanding lieutenant of the old school—a type of officer not to be found in the Royal Navy nowadays—is well described by Admiral Cochrane.(120) “My kind uncle,” writes he, “the Hon. John Cochrane, accompanied me on board the _Iliad_ for the purpose of introducing me to my future superior officer, Lieutenant Larmour, or, as he was more familiarly known in the service, Jack Larmour—a specimen of the old British seaman, little calculated to inspire exalted ideas of the gentility of the naval profession, though presenting at a glance a personification of its efficiency. Jack was, in fact, one of a not very numerous class, whom, for their superior seamanship, the Admiralty was glad to promote from the forecastle to the quarter-deck, in order that they might mould into ship-shape the questionable materials supplied by parliamentary influence, even then paramount in the navy to a degree which might otherwise have led to disaster. Lucky was the commander who could secure such an officer for his quarter-deck. “On my introduction, Jack was dressed in the garb of a seaman, with marlinspike slung round his neck, and a lump of grease in his hand, and was busily employed in setting up the rigging. His reception of me was anything but gracious. Indeed, a tall fellow, over six feet high, the nephew of his captain, and a lord to boot, were not very promising recommendations for a midshipman. It is not impossible he might have learned from my uncle something about a military commission of several years’ standing; and this, coupled with my age and stature, might easily have impressed him with the idea that he had caught a scapegrace with whom the family did not know what to do, and that he was hence to be saddled with a ‘hard bargain.’ “After a little constrained civility on the part of the first lieutenant, who was evidently not very well pleased with the interruption to his avocation, he ordered me to ‘get my traps below.’ Scarcely was the order complied with, and myself introduced to the midshipman’s berth, than I overheard Jack grumbling at the magnitude of my equipments. ‘This Lord Cochrane’s chest? Does Lord Cochrane think he is going to bring a cabin aboard? Get it up on the main-deck!’ [Illustration: BETWEEN DECKS OF A MAN-OF-WAR, EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.] “This order being promptly obeyed, amidst a running fire of similar objurgations, the key of the chest was sent for, and shortly afterwards the sound of sawing became audible. It was now high time to follow my property, which, to my astonishment, had been turned out on the deck—Jack superintending the sawing off one end of the chest just beyond the keyhole, and accompanying the operation by sundry uncomplimentary observations on midshipmen in general, and on myself in particular.