drowned the voice of the orator some moments, but they were not re-echoed from the general crowd; on the contrary, a low, but increasing, murmur was heard, like the muttering of distant thunder, the stillness of the vast body suddenly ceased, and it soon became a number of small parties, talking earnestly and generally loudly with each other—the words, "It's not fair," were heard on every side. Arthur seized the moment of a comparative lull, and, stepping from the window where he was standing, with an agility only to be met with in his profession, upon the landing formed by a bay window beneath, he took up the word uttered so repeatedly; and his loud, clear voice, accustomed to brave the tempest, instantly arrested all, and produced immediate silence, as he said—
"You say well, my friends, it is not fair, and 'fair play's a jewel,' both by land and sea. I am neither lawyer nor orator, God knows; and my only pride is that of being a British sailor. The learned gentleman who addressed you is a deep thinker, whose talent I honour, and grieve that it is united to a temper so wayward, and a malignity so acute, that he could forget the generous and
