Deeply grieved as was every one on the ship at this deplorable event, there was one whose grief dwarfed all others in the magnitude of its agony. This was Roddy Prinn. The poor fellow went almost insane. Above all, he besought the captain to preserve the body of his little chum, until our approach to the islands would enable us to accord a Christian burial on land to the remains. But, as we were yet within a hundred and fifty miles of our destination, compliance with this request was rendered impossible. Poor Roddy then waxed violent, but was only confined in the gun-room. For, in keeping with the gentle treatment which Willie Warner had always received from the captain, he (Roddy) was treated with an unaccountable leniency. The poor fellow's mind was, undoubtedly, somewhat deranged through his grief. The day after the death of Willie Warner, the body of the little cabin-boy was consigned to the deep. It was a sad and impressive ceremony. All the crew stood around, with their heads uncovered, preserving a deep silence, while the funeral Service was read in measured tones by Doctor Benedict. Then, with a heavy plunge, the shotted sack struck the blue waters, and the form of him we had loved so much was lost to us forever. On the same day, an excitement was created on shipboard by intelligence that Roddy Prinn had attempted suicide, while in his confinement, he had opened a vein in his arms, and was discovered by Doctor Benedict just in time to be saved. As it was, he was almost exhausted through loss of blood, and was not able to be about for some days afterward. He next threw himself into the sea, out of the ports of the gun-room, but was rescued by Snollygoster. Roddy then seemed to give up self-destruction as a bad job, acted very reasonably, and was allowed to return to his duty. A few nights after this last attempt, it was my watch upon deck, and, observing that Roddy was more melancholy than usual, I resolved to keep a sharp eye upon him. The night was one of surpassing beauty. I think I never saw so many stars as studded the glorious vault upon that night; and, presently, the moon, the broad, lucid, tropic moon rose above the ocean's edge, with a luster by which you could have read small print with no difficulty. In spite of myself, my attention was directed to the beauty of the heavens, and was only called thence by the noise of a loud splash in the water, over the starboard bow. Instantly divining that Roddy had made another attempt at suicide, I sung out, "Man overboard!" and ran to the bow. We were completely becalmed, and, as the water was devoid of even a ripple, I could see far down into the sea. And, looking down, I was not long in discovering the figure of the unfortunate young man. Just then the captain, first mate and Doctor Benedict came to the bows, and looked over.