Almost every day there was to be seen a Roman Catholic priest administering the last unction to some disciple of his faith, some Irish soldier or sailor, whose hour was come. On these occasions the amputation table was his altar, and a brass flat candlestick the only ornament. He never failed to be at his post every day, and was a good old man. At the same time that the old priest was officiating by the side of one bed, the chaplain of the ship would be attending the last moments of some other victim. On these occasions all would be silent on the deck, even the groans were stifled and checked for the time, and nothing would be heard but the muttered prayer of the Catholic priest, or the last, and often futile, attempts of the clergyman of our own creed to extract some sign of faith and hope from the fast-sinking and almost senseless patient. "He dies, and makes no sign! O God, forgive him!" At times the uproar on the deck would be appalling. Some powerful man in the strength of delirium would rise from his bed, and, bursting from some half-dozen of the nurses, would rush through the tiers of beds roaring like a bull, and dealing blows right and left upon the unfortunate sick men who fell in his way. Then there would be general chase after him, until, overpowered by additional help, he was brought back to his bed and confined by force. An hour or two afterwards, the nurses who watched him would quit the side of the pallet; a sheet would be thrown over it; no other communication was necessary to tell me that the storm had been succeeded by a calm, and that life's fitful fever was over. At the forepart of the hospital deck is a bath room; adjoining to that is a small dark cabin, with no other furniture than a long white-washed board, laid upon two tressels, with hooks fixed to the carlines of the deck. Above these the dead bodies are removed: immediately after their decease a _post mortem_ examination is made by the assistant surgeon, a report of which is sent into the inspector. A port-hole has a wooden shoot or slide fixed to it, by which the bodies are ejected into the boat waiting to convey them for interment. The church service is read every morning on the hospital deck, and during the performance the strictest attention was paid by the patients. When convalescent I enjoyed the privilege of walking on the poop with the others who had been spared, and truly grateful was I for my recovery. Such scenes as I have described could not but have the effect upon me: I hope that I left the hospital a wiser and a better man.