PROFESSOR HAMBLIN CHANGES HIS MIND.

Professor Hamblin went on deck, walked up and down, and made himself as miserable as possible.  He was the senior instructor of the Josephine, and was the superintendent of her academic department.  He had been a schoolmaster or a professor for forty years, and was fully steeped in the dogmatism of the pedagogue.  He was disposed to be overbearing and tyrannical, though perhaps his profession, rather than his nature, had implanted this tendency in his character.  Certainly the almost absolute sway of the schoolmaster encourages such an unfortunate development of the lower faculties of human nature.

It is necessary that the parent or the teacher should have this absolute sway.  Practically, his will is law, and the child has no alternative but to rebel or obey.  The limit to his authority is only placed on the line where tyranny ends and actual abuse begins.  It is true that public opinion has its influence upon the teacher or parent; but there is room for much petty oppression before the limit of endurance is reached.  A man may be an efficient teacher, and produce splendid intellectual results, while he is a tyrant and an oppressor; indeed, his tyranny and oppression may be the very means by which his success is accomplished.

The rights of the pupil are not recognized by such men.  The scholar is regarded as a machine, rather than an immortal soul.  Though Mr. Hamblin was a very pious man, in his own way, and was very careful in his observance of all the forms of law and tradition, he was a tyrant at heart.  He ruled with an iron will, and willingly suffered no one in the school-room to hold an opinion different from his own.  He was not popular in the Josephine; he had never been a popular teacher anywhere, though he had been a successful one, so far as intellectual results were concerned.  His success seemed to justify him, and certainly it added to the strength of his tyrannical will.

The good schoolmaster recognizes and respects the rights of the scholar.  While he is an unflinching disciplinarian, expecting an unquestioning obedience, he does not believe in his own infallibility.  He is kind and considerate, and regards his pupil as an embryo man, “endowed with certain inalienable rights,” which none may trample upon with impunity.  He is both just and merciful, his heart being filled with love to God and love to man.

Such was not Mr. Hamblin.  The greatest sin of a student was to have a will of his own.  He had not the power or the inclination to harmonize that will with the requirements of duty, and he broke it down, not by coarse abuse, but by making the pupil so uncomfortable that a total submission was better than a reasonable independence.  In mild-tempered boys, like Paul Kendall, the task was an easy one, when no principle was at stake.

The professor walked up and down the deck, brooding over his grievances.  He could not afford to abandon his situation on the one hand, and it seemed impossible to acknowledge that he was wholly wrong on the other hand.  When he had thoroughly cooled off, he was willing to own that it was necessary for the captain to go on deck, and that if he had comprehended the situation he should have given him permission to do so.  But he knew nothing about the management of a vessel.  How should a professor of Greek and Latin be expected to understand a matter which even the most ignorant could comprehend, and of which even a boy of sixteen had made himself master?  Boys could play base-ball, but he did not know how; and it seemed just as much beneath his dignity to be familiar with practical navigation.

He was sorry now that he had not given Captain Kendall permission to go on deck; for it was impossible to refute the arguments of the principal; but at the same time he had not overstepped the duties of his office.  He had been informed that all the students, even to the captain, were subject to his will and pleasure during school hours, and therefore he had a perfect right to detain the captain.  It was not his fault that a blunder had been made; he had not made it.

The order which Mr. Lowington had shown him would remedy the difficulty in future, and prevent its repetition; but if that order was promulgated, it would assure the pupils that Captain Kendall had been fully sustained, and that the professor had not been sustained.  Mr. Hamblin shuddered at the thought; for justifying a student at the expense of the instructor was an enormity which he could not countenance.  The captain’s will would remain unbroken, and the professor would occupy a secondary position on board of the Josephine.

The learned gentleman walked the deck hour after hour, endeavoring to devise a plan by which he could return to his position without the sacrifice of any portion of his dignity.  Mr. Lowington, in saying that the professor’s resignation would be a serious inconvenience to him, had left the door open for him to revise his final action.  The squadron was eventually to visit Greece and other classic lands, and he was very anxious to continue his travels, not only without expense to himself, but while in the receipt of a handsome salary.  Such an opportunity to see Europe could never again be presented to him, and he was not willing to sacrifice it.

Professor Hamblin was becoming more reasonable; but there was the untamed will of Captain Kendall, an unconquered fortress, in his path.  Perhaps Mr. Lowington, now that the excitement of the first interview had subsided, might help him out of the embarrassing dilemma, though his decided manner was not very encouraging.  The professor determined to have another interview, and as soon as he saw the principal alone he opened the subject again.

“What you said about my resignation, Mr. Lowington, gives me some uneasiness.  It is not my wish to subject you to any inconvenience by leaving you, in a foreign land, where much delay must necessarily ensue before you can obtain a suitable person to fill my place,” said he, in a tone of embarrassment.

“It would disturb my plans very much; but I cannot endanger the vessel and the lives of those on board of her.  The position of Captain Kendall is anomalous, you will perceive.”

“I am quite willing now to say that if I had understood the situation, I should have permitted Mr. Kendall to leave the class.”

“And I am quite willing to say that your services as an instructor are entirely satisfactory to me,” added the principal, with a smile.

They were more satisfactory to him than they were to the students of the Josephine.

“Then we seem to be in full accord with each other on these points,” replied the professor, hopefully.  “I trust some arrangement may be made to reconcile the differences of opinion on the question of discipline.  You do not sustain me, Mr. Lowington.”

“I cannot, sir.  If I did, I should expect the Josephine to go to the bottom with all on board, in the first gale of wind she encounters, should Captain Kendall happen to be reciting his Greek at the time.”

“I think I understand the matter better now, and in a similar emergency I should permit him to leave the class.”

“In matters of seamanship and navigation, I have more confidence in the judgment of Captain Kendall than in yours.  He must be absolute in his position as captain of the vessel.”

“Of course, sir; and in the composition of a soup doubtless you would have more confidence in the judgment of your cook than in mine,” added the professor, cynically; for, intellectually, the cook and the captain appeared to be on the same level to him; and as a professor of Greek, he did not regard it as any more derogatory to his dignity not to know anything of the principles of seamanship than to be ignorant of the art of making a soup.

“The order which I have written, and which I shall transmit to Captain Kendall as soon as the squadron comes to anchor, will set the matter right,” said Mr. Lowington.

“Do you insist on issuing that order?” asked Mr. Hamblin.

“I do.”

“Let me say that Mr. Stoute did not indorse my course, and that in future I will give Mr. Kendall permission to leave the class whenever he desires to do so.”

“That is very well, sir; but, under the circumstances, I cannot permit the captain to be embarrassed even by the necessity of asking permission.  If, by any diffidence on his part, he should delay asking leave to go on deck, serious mishaps might occur.”

“Then I am to be subject to the will of that boy?” said the professor, disgusted at the thought.

“Not unless you are connected with the sailing department of the vessel.  You are simply prevented from exercising your will over him, to the detriment of his duties as a navigator.”

“In this light the case looks different to me,” added the professor, who was laboring to recede from his position as gracefully as possible.  “I am willing to permit the captain to have his own will in all matters pertaining to the management of the vessel, as I am to allow the cook entire freedom in making his soup.”

“Then nothing more need be said, and you can resume your position on board of the Josephine at once.”

“I am not entirely satisfied about that order, Mr. Lowington,” added Mr. Hamblin.

“Why not?”

“Because that sustains Mr. Kendall and condemns me in a public and formal manner.”

“That is precisely what I intend to do.”

“It amounts to sacrificing me, by placing me in a derogatory position.  I have not transcended the power given me, and it is not right that I should be formally condemned.”

“The order passes no judgment upon the past; it relates to the future only.  Captain Kendall must understand that he has full liberty to go when and where he pleases, in the discharge of his duty.  I am confident he will not abuse this liberty.”

“But I am to stand before him in this business as a whipped puppy.  Couldn’t you give him the order verbally, and explain my position to him?”

“What is your position?” demanded the principal, with a smile.

“I mean simply that in detaining him I erred through a want of knowledge of seamanship.”

“I can explain that; but I think it would be better for you to do so.”

“For me!” gasped the professor.  “Why, sir, that would be an apology!”

“It would be merely an explanation, which would come more gracefully from you than from any other person.”

“I don’t think so, sir.  It would be lowering myself before him.”

“As you please, Mr. Hamblin.  I will explain the matter myself, when I give him the order.”

“If you could give him the order verbally, it would be better.”

“No; he must have the written order to show to any professor who disputes his authority.  But Captain Kendall will never give you any trouble.  He is manly and gentle, and he will not take advantage of his position.”

“I think he will have abundant ground to manifest his triumph.”

“He will not do anything of the kind.  If any officer of the Josephine treats you with disrespect, he shall be suspended at once from office.”

“That is very proper, sir,” added Mr. Hamblin, heartily.

The learned gentleman let himself down as easily as possible.  He had consented to remain rather than subject the principal to the great inconvenience and delay of procuring a new instructor.  Captain Kendall was to be independent only in the sailing department, in which he had no disposition to interfere, any more than with the cook.  He regarded it as a bitter necessity which compelled him to return to the Josephine; for he could not forego the pecuniary advantage and the opportunity of visiting the classic lands which the voyage presented; but, though he yielded with what grace he could command, he was dissatisfied with Mr. Lowington, and more dissatisfied with Paul.

To go back to the consort unsustained was almost like going to a dungeon for a capital crime, to which nothing but personal interest induced him to submit.  If the captain did not enjoy his triumph, it would be a degree of forbearance which he could not comprehend.  But he was quite certain that the captain would “put on airs,” abuse his absolute liberty, and perhaps snub his teacher before the class.  Mr. Hamblin expected this, and made up his mind to be on the lookout for it.

After dinner Mr. Lowington suggested that his services must be much needed on board of the Josephine, and proposed to send him to her at once.  Mr. Hamblin consented, and as the consort kept astern of the ship, the latter was hove to, and the professor’s barge lowered.  Mr. Lowington went with the learned gentleman, and agreeably to his promise, made a full explanation to Paul, while the instructor, without a word to any one, hastened to the steerage, and called his class, just as though nothing had occurred.  It was observed that he was unusually sour, crabbed, and precise, and all the students were anxious to know how the question of discipline had been settled.

“Read this order, if you please, Captain Kendall,” said the principal, when he had conducted him to the cabin, where they were alone.

“I have no desire to leave my class, unless my duty to the vessel requires it,” added Paul, after he had read the order.

“I did not suppose you had; but you will keep that order in your pocket, and remember that your first duty is to your ship and crew.”

“I suppose you have learned by this time, sir, the reason why we did not take in sail sooner on Saturday,” continued Paul, blushing deeply.

“I have.  Professor Hamblin feels very badly about this matter.  At the time of it, he believed he was right, for he knows less about a vessel than even the chaplain of the ship.  He acknowledges now that he was in error.  Our rules did not before apply with sufficient distinctness to your particular case, as captain of the vessel, responsible for her proper navigation.  Mr. Hamblin did not overstep the letter of his duty in refusing you permission to go on deck, and I only blame him for his want of judgment.  By this order, which corrects the ship’s rules, you are made independent in all matters relating to the management of the vessel.”

“I think there can be no trouble now, sir,” replied Paul, delighted to find that his conduct was approved.

“I hope not; and I do not expect any.”

Mr. Lowington returned to the ship, satisfied that he had healed the wounds of both the sufferers.  Paul was happy, and he determined to treat the professor with the utmost deference and kindness, and thus remove the remembrance of the difficulty.  At four o’clock, after the squadron had passed Beveland, and entered the Belgian territory, Paul went down to recite his Greek, as usual.  He could not help seeing that Mr. Hamblin’s lip quivered, and that he was laboring under strong emotions, when he took his place at the mess table.  The captain was hardly less embarrassed, but he hoped an opportunity would soon occur for him to perform some kind act for the irritated gentleman.

When the recitation was nearly finished, and both parties had recovered their self-possession, the vessel gave a sudden “bump,” which nearly tipped the professor off his stool; but he righted himself, and was too much absorbed in his favorite study to think of the incident for a moment.

“Mr. Terrill directs me to report to you that the vessel is aground!” said one of the midshipmen, in breathless haste, touching his cap to the captain.

Paul blushed deeply, and was intensely annoyed at this repetition of the circumstances of Saturday; but there was no alternative but for him to go on deck.

“Will you excuse me, Mr. Hamblin?” asked Paul, rising.

The professor bowed, but made no reply in words.  He wondered if the vessel had not been run aground on purpose to mortify and annoy him.  He was inclined to think that such was the case, and that it had been done to enable the captain to display his absolute authority.

Paul went on deck; but the pilot assured him that the accident would not subject the vessel to half an hour’s delay, for the tide was rising very rapidly.  He had run her a little too near a shoal, while the Young America, by keeping in mid channel, had gone clear.  There was nothing for the captain to do on deck, and he returned to his class.  The Josephine came off the ground within the half hour, and by putting on more sail overhauled the ship before she reached Antwerp.

“Here is the city, Paul,” said Dr. Winstock, as the Josephine rounded a bend in the river.  “You can see the spire of Antwerp Cathedral.”

“I see it, sir.  I have heard a great deal about it.  This is farther than we have been from the sea since we sailed.”

“Yes, it is a long pull from the sea for a sailing vessel; but Antwerp is the only convenient port for visiting the greater part of Belgium.  We are only a short distance from Brussels, Ghent, Malines, and Liege.  I suppose we shall visit no other port in Belgium; indeed, there is no other convenient one, except Ostend.”

“There is a whole fleet of British steamers at anchor opposite the town,” said Paul, when the Josephine had gone a little farther.

“A great many merchant steamers come up the river.  There are regular lines to London and Harwich.  By the latter route you may leave Antwerp at four in the afternoon and be in London at nine the next morning, though the Ostend or Calais line is quicker and better.”

“Those are large steamers,” added Paul, as the squadron approached the fleet at anchor.

“Why, that’s the Victoria and Albert!” exclaimed the doctor, pointing to the largest of the ships.  “That is the yacht of the Queen of England.”

“It is a pretty large yacht,” replied Paul.  “What are the other steamers?”

“They are the consorts of the yacht.  The one that lies nearest to her is the Osborne, which was formerly the queen’s state vessel.  The others are merely a kind of guard of honor.”

“Does it take five steamships to bring the queen over to Antwerp?” asked Paul, laughing.

“She must go in state when she goes,” added the doctor.  “The Victoria and Albert is a ship of twenty-four hundred tons.  I hope we shall have an opportunity to go on board of her.”

“I hope we shall; but that is hardly to be expected.”

“They do not exhibit her when she is in English waters, but I think they do when she is abroad.”

“All ready to moor ship, Mr. Terrill,” said Paul, as the Young America gave the signal.

The Josephine ran up to a point near the ship, and within a couple of cables’ length of the royal squadron let go her anchor.  Port officers came on board, and explained the harbor regulations; among them, one whose duty it was to determine the amount due the pilot.  This official “hooked” the vessel, or measured her draught.  As the Josephine drew about ten feet of water, the charge was one hundred and ninety-eight francs.

Everything was made snug on board; the ropes were carefully coiled, and all the running rigging hauled taut; for, lying near the queen’s yacht, Paul desired to have the vessel present her best appearance.  The work of the day was ended, and the students were at liberty to observe the strange scenes around them.  There was the city of Antwerp, but it was not much different from any other city.  The Scheldt formed a crescent in front of the town, and there was a multitude of vessels lying at the quays, as the space on the shore is called.  The river is about fifteen hundred feet wide, and deep enough to float a ship of the line.  The city is very strongly fortified, on both sides of the river.

“Here we are, for a week or two,” said Pelham to the first lieutenant, after all the ship’s duty had been performed.

“I suppose so,” replied Terrill.  “It seems to me just as though we had been sailing down hill ever since we came into the river.  Hark!”

It was just six o’clock, and the chime of bells on the great Cathedral played a silver-toned melody which was almost enchanting.

“I should not object to hearing that every hour,” said Pelham, when the tune was finished.  “Do they play the same tune over again?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Terrill.

“They have a different tune for each hour of the day, and play the entire music of an opera,” interposed Dr. Winstock.  “They give a short strain at the quarter hour, and a longer one at the half hour.”

“That will be music all day long.”

“Yes, and all night long,” added the surgeon, as he walked away with the captain.

“I wish he were going to stay on board instead of that solemn old lunatic, the Greek and Latin humbug” said Terrill, who had a habit of speaking his mind very plainly.

“Do you know how the row was settled between him and the captain?” asked Pelham.

“I do not; but I am confident Mr. Lowington sustained the captain,” answered Terrill.  “I was in hopes that we had got rid of him when he went on board of the ship yesterday, and I was mad when I saw him coming back to-day noon.”

“There is not a fellow in the Josephine that didn’t have the same thought,” added Pelham.  “I don’t see why a man need try to make himself as disagreeable as he does.  All the students were willing to treat him with respect, and get their lessons well; but he is as crank as an alderman.”

“I wish we could get rid of him,” suggested Terrill.

“Of course we can’t do that,” replied Pelham, who was not disposed to get into any more scrapes.

“We might make the Josephine uncomfortable for him,” suggested Terrill.

“We might; but I think we had better not,” added the prudent Pelham, made wise by experience, as the bell for the cabin supper rang.

Professor Hamblin looked unusually gloomy and morose, but he labored perseveringly to keep up his dignity.  Paul sat at the head of the table, ordinarily with his officers on each side of him in the order of their rank; but on the present occasion, Dr. Winstock occupied the place at his right.  At the opposite end of the board was Mr. Hamblin, with the fat professor on his right.  Behind the captain’s chair stood the head steward, while the second steward was stationed near the instructors.

Mr. Hamblin occasionally cast a furtive glance at the young commander; but Paul seemed to be as composed as though nothing had happened to disturb the friendly relations between them.  Though he did not observe it, Terrill persisted that the learned gentleman looked “ugly,” and would make another row as soon as he could get a chance.

“I can see through the mainsail when there is a hole in it,” said the executive officer to Pelham, when they went on deck again.  “If there wasn’t mischief in Mr. Hamblin’s eye, there never was mischief in any man’s eye.”

“What do you mean?” asked Pelham.

“You know the old lunatic threatened to have the captain suspended for leaving the class.  He failed in that, and if he don’t try it again, I’m mistaken in the man.”

“Of course he won’t make any more complaints till he has something to complain of, and Paul won’t give him a chance.”

“I don’t suppose he will voluntarily; but his conduct will be distorted.  I tell you the professor is ugly, and he hates the captain as badly as a Christian can.”

“He hasn’t improved his popularity on board by what he has done.”

“Every fellow on the Josephine is down upon him.  There’ll be a row on board soon, in my opinion,” added Terrill, as Dr. Winstock and Paul came on deck.

A boat was lowered to send the surgeon on board the ship.  Paul accompanied him; and on the way they went up to the gangway of the Victoria and Albert, and ascertained that visitors would be admitted to the ship on the following day, from ten till four.