Frederick Marryat





Frederick Marryat

Author profile


born
in London, The United Kingdom
July 10, 1792

died
August 09, 1848

gender
male

genre


About this author

Captain Frederick Marryat was a British Royal Navy officer and novelist, an early pioneer of the sea story.

For more information, please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederic...


Average rating: 3.76 · 4,124 ratings · 257 reviews · 99 distinct works · Similar authors
The Children of the New Forest
3.8 of 5 stars 3.80 avg rating — 2,766 ratings — published 1847 — 91 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Mr. Midshipman Easy
3.74 of 5 stars 3.74 avg rating — 376 ratings — published 1836 — 72 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The Phantom Ship
3.47 of 5 stars 3.47 avg rating — 156 ratings — published 1839 — 47 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Peter Simple (Heart of Oak ...
by
4.0 of 5 stars 4.00 avg rating — 92 ratings — published 1834 — 35 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Masterman Ready
3.53 of 5 stars 3.53 avg rating — 83 ratings — published 1841 — 47 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Frank Mildmay or the Naval ...
3.78 of 5 stars 3.78 avg rating — 50 ratings — published 1872 — 26 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Percival Keene
4.02 of 5 stars 4.02 avg rating — 41 ratings — published 1957 — 27 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The White Wolf Of The Hartz...
3.81 of 5 stars 3.81 avg rating — 32 ratings — published 1839 — 5 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The Privateersman
3.55 of 5 stars 3.55 avg rating — 33 ratings — published 2000 — 27 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The King's Own
3.53 of 5 stars 3.53 avg rating — 34 ratings — published 1837 — 28 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
More books by Frederick Marryat…
“The squadron of men-of-war and transports was collected, the commodore’s flag hoisted, and the expedition sailed with most secret orders, which, as usual, were as well known to the enemy, and everybody in England, as they were to those by whom they were given. It is the characteristic of our nation, that we scorn to take any unfair advantage, or reap any benefit, by keeping our intentions a secret. We imitate the conduct of that English tar, who, having entered a fort, and meeting a Spanish officer without his sword, being providentially supplied with two cut-lasses himself, immediately offered him one, that they might engage on fair terms.

The idea is generous, but not wise. But I rather imagine that this want of secrecy arises from all matters of importance being arranged by cabinet councils. In the multitude of counsellors there may be wisdom, but there certainly is not secrecy. Twenty men have probably twenty wives, and it is therefore twenty to one but the secret transpires through that channel. Further, twenty men have twenty tongues; and much as we complain of women not keeping secrets, I suspect that men deserve the odium of the charge quite as much, if not more, than women do. On the whole, it is forty to one against secrecy, which, it must be acknowledged, are long odds.

On the arrival of the squadron at the point of attack, a few more days were thrown away,—probably upon the same generous principle of allowing the enemy sufficient time for preparation.”
Frederick Marryat

“Horses, and all animals indeed, know that there is no place like home; it is a pity that men who consider themselves much wiser, have not the same consideration,”
Frederick Marryat, The Children of the New Forest

“Whose destinies can be in these stars, which appear not to those who inhabit the northern regions?' said Amine, as she cast her eyes above, and watched them in their brightness; 'and what does that falling meteor portend? What causes its rapid descent from heaven?'

'Do you then put faith in stars, Amine?'

'In Araby we do; and why not? They were not spread over the sky to give light—for what then?'

'To beautify the world. They have their uses, too.'

'Then you agree with me—they have their uses, and the destinies of men are there concealed. My mother was one of those who could read them well. Alas! For me they are a sealed book.'

'Is it not better so, Amine?'

'Better!—say better to grovel on this earth with our selfish, humbled race, wandering in mystery and awe, and doubt, when we can communicate with the intelligences above! Does not the soul leap at her admission to confer with superior powers? Does not the proud heart bound at the feeling that its owner is one of those more gifted than the usual race of mortals? Is it not a noble ambition?'

'A dangerous one—most dangerous.'

'And therefore most noble. They seem as if they would speak to me; look at yon bright star—it beckons to me.”
Frederick Marryat, The Phantom Ship