But the comment is irrational and pedantic. To appreciate a farce we must grant to the author his “impossible” conditions; and may then demand that he should manipulate them effectively.
Given the mad father, the doting mother, etc., and his own clever, manly, and affectionate nature, Jack’s conduct in the middies’ berth is no libel on humanity. It possesses the further merit of being extremely amusing. He argues with so much point and persistence, and accepts the consequences of differing from his superior officers with so much genuine philosophy, that the reader scarcely knows whether to laugh at or with him. Certainly Jack is no fool, and as experience developes his character we find ourselves, without fear of inconsistency, slowly changing our point of view and confessing to a certain measure of cordial respect for the lad we were once nearly tempted to despise.
In a story depending for its main interest on comedy that is almost wholly farcical, it is peculiarly satisfactory to find men of sterling worth untouched by satire, and the serious side of life treated with feeling. Captain Wilson and his worthy lieutenant, Sawbridge, do not suffer in dignity from their wit-conflicts with the hero who, indeed, is never essentially disrespectful to his seniors. The slight sketch of Martin, the melancholy mate, has been justly praised for its genuine, quiet pathos; and Jack’s treatment of his poor father is thoughtful and considerate.
It is scarcely necessary to speak of the admirable and stirring scenes of naval life with which the pages of this novel are crowded. As we have said of his work generally, Marryat excels in the true realism which is born of intimate knowledge, and he has the wisdom to avoid any melodramatic exaggeration. Obviously Jack’s experiences are over-crowded and impossibly varied, but any one of them is within the range of a midshipman’s actual daily life. The encounter with the Russian frigate is considered a masterly report of a perfectly actual sea-fight.
There is a striking passage in Henry Kingsley’s Ravenshoe which shows that he, at any rate, gave much honour to Midshipman Easy. While sailing past Malta at sunrise, “a flood of historical recollections comes over Charles, and he recognises the place as one long known and very dear to him. On these very stairs Mr Midshipman Easy stood, and resolved that he would take a boat and sail to Gazo. What followed on his resolution is a matter of history. Other events have taken place at Malta, of which Charles was as well informed as the majority, but Charles did not think of them; not even of St Paul and the viper, or the old wordy dispute in Greek testament lecture at Oxford between this Melita and the other one off the coast of Illyricum. He thought of Midshipman Easy, and felt as if he had seen the place before.”
When this novel, for which he received £1200, was first published, Marryat was editing the Metropolitan Magazine, and he printed a specimen chapter, the first, in the number for August 1836, by way of advertisement.
Midshipman Easy is here re-printed, with a few corrections, from the first edition in three vols. Saunders & Otley, 1836.
Which the reader will find very easy to read.
MR NICODEMUS EASY was a gentleman who lived down in Hampshire; he was a married man, and in very easy circumstances. Most couples find it very easy to have a family, but not always quite so easy to maintain them. Mr Easy was not at all uneasy on the latter score, as he had no children; but he was anxious to have them, as most people covet what they cannot obtain. After ten years, Mr Easy gave it up as a bad job. Philosophy is said to console a man under disappointment, although Shakespeare asserts that it is no remedy for toothache; so Mr Easy turned philosopher, the very best profession a man can take up, when he is fit for nothing else; he must be a very incapable person indeed who cannot talk nonsense. For some time, Mr Easy could not decide upon what description his nonsense should consist of; at last he fixed upon the rights of man, equality, and all that; how every person was born to inherit his share of the earth, a right at present only admitted to a certain length; that is, about six feet, for we all inherit our graves, and are allowed to take possession without dispute. But no one would listen to Mr Easy’s philosophy. The women would not acknowledge the rights of men, whom they declared always to be in the wrong; and, as the gentlemen who visited Mr Easy were all men of property, they could not perceive the advantages of sharing with those who had none. However, they allowed him to discuss the question, while they discussed his port wine. The wine was good, if the arguments were not, and we must take things as we find them in this world.
While Mr Easy talked philosophy, Mrs Easy played patience, and they were a very happy couple, riding side by side on their hobbies, and never interfering with each other. Mr Easy knew his wife could not understand him, and therefore did not expect her to listen very attentively; and Mrs Easy did not care how much her husband talked, provided she was not put out in her game. Mutual forbearance will always ensure domestic felicity.
There was another cause for their agreeing so well. Upon any disputed question Mr Easy invariably gave it up to Mrs Easy, telling her that she should have her own way—and this pleased his wife; but, as Mr Easy always took care, when it came to the point, to have his way, he was pleased as well. It is true that Mrs Easy had long found out that she did not have her own way long; but she was of an easy disposition, and as, in nine cases out of ten, it was of very little consequence how things were done, she was quite satisfied with his submission during the heat of the argument. Mr Easy had admitted that she was right, and if like all men he would do wrong, why, what could a poor woman do? With a lady of such a quiet disposition, it is easy to imagine that the domestic felicity of Mr Easy was not easily disturbed.
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