This man now apologized for the liberty he had taken, and said he would not detain me long.  “You see, sir,” said he, “that my poor friend is quite overcome with the horror of his situation:  nor do I wonder at it.  He is very different from the hardened malefactors that are executed on shore:  we are neither of us afraid to die; but such a death as this, Mr Mildmay—­to be hung up like dogs, an example to the fleet, and a shame and reproach to our friends—­this wrings our hearts!  It is this consideration, and to save the feelings of my poor mother, that I have sent for you.  I saw you jump overboard to save a poor fellow from drowning; so I thought you would not mind doing a good turn for another unfortunate sailor.  I have made my will, and appointed you my executor; and with this power of attorney you will receive all my pay and prize-money, which I will thank you to give to my dear mother, whose address you will find written here.  My motive for this is, that she may never learn the history of my death.  You can tell her that I died for my country’s good, which is very true, for I acknowledge the justice of my sentence, and own that a severe example is wanting.  It is eleven years since I was in England; I have served faithfully the whole of that time, nor did I ever misbehave except in this one instance.  I think if our good king knew my sad story, he would be merciful; but God’s will be done!  Yet, if I had a wish, it would be that the enemy’s fleet would come out, and that I might die, as I have lived, defending my country.  But, Mr Mildmay, I have one very important question to ask you—­do you believe that there is such a thing as a future state?”

“Most surely,” said I; “though we all live as if we believed there was no such thing.  But why do you doubt it?”

“Because,” said the poor fellow, “when I was an officer’s servant, I was one day tending the table in the ward-room, and I heard the commander of a sloop of war, who was dining there with his son, say that it was all nonsense—­that there was no future state, and the Bible was a heap of lies.  I have never been happy since.”

I told him that I was extremely sorry that any officer should have used such expressions at all, particularly before him; that I was incapable of restoring his mind to its proper state; but that I should recommend his immediately sending for the chaplain, who, I had no doubt, would give him all the comfort he could desire.  He thanked me for this advice, and profited by it, as he assured me in his last moments.

“And now, sir,” said he, “let me give you a piece of advice.  When you are a captain, as I am very sure you will be, do not worry your men into mutiny by making what is called a smart ship.  Cleanliness and good order are what seamen like; but niggling, polishing, scraping iron bars, and ring-bolts, and the like of that, a sailor dislikes more than a flogging at the gangway.  If, in reefing topsails, you happen to be a minute later than another