have
been broken either by the chances of war, or by the very nature of
their roving and desultory life, which carries them they really know
not where, and care not wherefore.

I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a
man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and a
long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called
to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle, and on looking about to
see if all the men were at their stations, missed one of the
foretop-men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and
apparently hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat
and the booms. "Hillo!" I said, "who are you? What are you doing here,
you skulker? Why are you not at your station?"

"I am not skulking, sir," said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose
bronzed and weather-beaten cheek were running down with tears. The man
we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten
years. I begged his pardon in full sincerity, for having used such
harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his berth
for the rest of the day.

"Never mind, sir, never mind," said the kind-hearted seaman, "it can't
be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as well on deck as below.
Bill's gone, sir, but I must do my duty."

So saying he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his
eyes, and mastering his grief within his breast, walked to his station
as if nothing had happened.

In the same ship, and nearly about the same time, some of the people
were bathing alongside in a calm sea. It is customary on such
occasions to spread a studding sail on the water, by means of lines
from the fore and main yard-arms, for the use of those who either
cannot swim, or who are not expert in this art, so very important to
all seafaring people. Half-a-dozen of the ship's boys, youngsters sent
on board by that admirable and most patriotic of naval institutions,
the Marine Society, were floundering about in the sail, and sometimes
even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the least of these
urchins, but not the least courageous of their number, when taunted by
his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck out boldly
beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further than his
own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea, when his
heart failed him, poor little man! and along with his confidence away
also