If The
Sufferer Has Any Special Identity, We Speculate On His
Peculiar Way Of Bearing His Misfortune; And Are Thus Led On
To Place Ourselves In His Position, And Imagine Ourselves The
Sufferers.
Major Daniel, the senior marine officer of the 'Blonde,' was
a reserved and taciturn man.
He was quiet and gentlemanlike,
always very neat in his dress; rather severe, still kind to
his men. His aloofness was in no wise due to lack of ideas,
nor, I should say, to pride - unless, perhaps, it were the
pride which some men feel in suppressing all emotion by
habitual restraint of manner. Whether his SANGFROID was
constitutional, or that nobler kind of courage which feels
and masters timidity and the sense of danger, none could
tell. Certain it is he was as calm and self-possessed in
action as in repose. He was so courteous one fancied he
would almost have apologised to his foe before he
remorselessly ran him through.
On our second visit to Amoy, a year or more after the first,
we met with a warmer reception. The place was much more
strongly fortified, and the ship was several-times hulled.
We were at very close quarters, as it is necessary to pass
under high ground as the harbour is entered. Those who had
the option, excepting our gallant old captain, naturally kept
under shelter of the bulwarks and hammock nettings. Not so
Major Daniel. He stood in the open gangway watching the
effect of the shells, as though he were looking at a game of
billiards.
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