Dickens, Charles – The Uncommercial Traveller

tables. Ship rolling heavily. Pause. No minister. Rumour has

related that a modest young clergyman on board has responded to the

captain’s request that he will officiate. Pause again, and very

heavy rolling.

Closed double doors suddenly burst open, and two strong stewards

skate in, supporting minister between them. General appearance as

of somebody picked up drunk and incapable, and under conveyance to

station-house. Stoppage, pause, and particularly heavy rolling.

Stewards watch their opportunity, and balance themselves, but

cannot balance minister; who, struggling with a drooping head and a

backward tendency, seems determined to return below, while they are

as determined that he shall be got to the reading-desk in midsaloon.

Desk portable, sliding away down a long table, and aiming

itself at the breasts of various members of the congregation. Here

the double doors, which have been carefully closed by other

stewards, fly open again, and worldly passenger tumbles in,

seemingly with pale-ale designs: who, seeking friend, says ‘Joe!’

Perceiving incongruity, says, ‘Hullo! Beg yer pardon!’ and tumbles

out again. All this time the congregation have been breaking up

into sects, – as the manner of congregations often is, each sect

sliding away by itself, and all pounding the weakest sect which

slid first into the corner. Utmost point of dissent soon attained

in every corner, and violent rolling. Stewards at length make a

dash; conduct minister to the mast in the centre of the saloon,

which he embraces with both arms; skate out; and leave him in that

condition to arrange affairs with flock.

There was another Sunday, when an officer of the ship read the

service. It was quiet and impressive, until we fell upon the

dangerous and perfectly unnecessary experiment of striking up a

hymn. After it was given out, we all rose, but everybody left it

to somebody else to begin. Silence resulting, the officer (no

singer himself) rather reproachfully gave us the first line again,

upon which a rosy pippin of an old gentleman, remarkable throughout

the passage for his cheerful politeness, gave a little stamp with

his boot (as if he were leading off a country dance), and blithely

warbled us into a show of joining. At the end of the first verse

we became, through these tactics, so much refreshed and encouraged,

that none of us, howsoever unmelodious, would submit to be left out

of the second verse; while as to the third we lifted up our voices

in a sacred howl that left it doubtful whether we were the more

boastful of the sentiments we united in professing, or of

professing them with a most discordant defiance of time and tune.

Page 194

Dickens, Charles – The Uncommercial Traveller

‘Lord bless us!’ thought I, when the fresh remembrance of these

things made me laugh heartily alone in the dead water-gurgling

waste of the night, what time I was wedged into my berth by a

wooden bar, or I must have rolled out of it, ‘what errand was I

then upon, and to what Abyssinian point had public events then

marched? No matter as to me. And as to them, if the wonderful

popular rage for a plaything (utterly confounding in its

inscrutable unreason) I had not then lighted on a poor young savage

boy, and a poor old screw of a horse, and hauled the first off by

the hair of his princely head to “inspect” the British volunteers,

and hauled the second off by the hair of his equine tail to the

Crystal Palace, why so much the better for all of us outside

Bedlam!’

So, sticking to the ship, I was at the trouble of asking myself

would I like to show the grog distribution in ‘the fiddle’ at noon

to the Grand United Amalgamated Total Abstinence Society? Yes, I

think I should. I think it would do them good to smell the rum,

under the circumstances. Over the grog, mixed in a bucket,

presides the boatswain’s mate, small tin can in hand. Enter the

crew, the guilty consumers, the grown-up brood of Giant Despair, in

contradistinction to the band of youthful angel Hope. Some in

boots, some in leggings, some in tarpaulin overalls, some in

frocks, some in pea-coats, a very few in jackets, most with

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