respectable people, and understood their business,
so they were generally well served. Captain Horner, of the _Montezuma_,
was a good sailor. The crew consequently looked up to him, though he
kept himself aloof from them. He was what the world calls a very good
sort of man, but as to his religion and morals I was not able to form an
opinion. It may seem strange that I, a young apprentice, should have
thought at all on the subject. Perhaps, if those in command knew how
completely their conduct and behaviour are canvassed by those under
them, they would behave very differently to what they do. Our second
mate, Josias Merton by name, was a man worthy of remark. He was a very
steady, serious-minded person, and yet full of life and fun. He prided
himself on his knowledge of his profession in all its details. His
heart was kind and gentle, and he was at the same time brave and
determined, active and prompt in action. He never undertook what he did
not believe, after due consideration, he could accomplish, and therefore
seldom failed in what he undertook. Both Charley and I owed him much,
for he spared no pains to improve us and to instruct us in our
profession.

As soon as I was well, I was placed in a watch and had begun to know and
to do my duty. The Atlantic afforded me the sight of many objects to
which I had been unaccustomed in the Mediterranean. I remember one
night coming on deck, and after I had looked to set what sail was set,
and how the ship was steering, I cast my eyes over the calm ocean. It
was very dark. There was no moon, and clouds obscured the stars. I
gazed with amazement. The whole surface of the deep, far as the eye
could reach, was lighted with brilliant flashes. I bent over the side.
The sea was alive with fish of every size and shape. Some were leaping
up, ever and anon, out of the water; others were chasing their smaller
brethren through it; others, again, rolled over in it, or lay floating
idly near, as if looking up with their bright eyes to watch the ship,
the invader of their liquid home. People talk of the lack-lustre of a
fish's eye. They are acquainted only with a dead fish. Did they ever
remark the keen, bright, diabolical eye of a shark watching for his
expected victim? I know nothing in nature more piercing, more
dread-inspiring. Here were collected sharks, and pilot-fish, and
albicores, bonettas, dolphins, flying-fish, and numberless others, for
which old Mr Stunt,