I have often since then had occasion to make the remark, that, as a rule, drinking, swearing, profligate captains turn out officers of the same character. A brave, virtuous, and good commander cannot make all those under him like himself; but his example will induce imitation among some, and act as a curb to vice among others. Great, indeed, is the responsibility of a captain of a man-of-war; indeed, of any ship where there are officers and men looking up to him. We had not been on deck long when the admiral came off in his barge from the shore, and three or four captains arrived in their gigs, as well as some military men in shore boats. The first-lieutenant made Captain Staghorn's apologies, saying that affairs of importance had taken him early on shore, but that he would be off immediately. The admiral walked up and down the deck rather impatiently, and looked annoyed, as if Captain Staghorn was not treating him with proper respect. He was also very hungry probably, and he kept continually pulling out his watch and replacing it hurriedly in his fob. The captains and other officers, aware, probably, of Captain Staghorn's eccentricities, were less annoyed; but even they at times gave signs of impatience. At length the signal midshipman announced that the captain's gig was coming off down the harbour. My heart beat quick. I never felt so anxious. Some midshipmen were in the main chains. I joined them, eager to ascertain if my cousin's boat was also coming down the harbour. I borrowed a glass. After a time I thought that I could distinguish my cousin's boat coming down. Had he escaped; or had the duel been prevented? I made out two officers seated in the stern, but the boat passed at a distance from the Daring, and I was uncertain who they were. I had been so eagerly watching the Pearl's gig, that I had not observed the Daring's, which now approached. A murmur ran through the ship--there was something solemn in the sound. I looked down with an indefinite feeling of dread. Still, I expected to see Captain Staghorn sitting upright, with his disagreeable companion by his side. The major was there, but a human form lay in the stern-sheets, with a boat's flag thrown over the face, to keep off the buzzing flies which were clustering above it. The murmur increased into unmistakable accents; the captain was dead--shot through the heart. I hurried to the gangway, round which the admiral and officers and men were assembling. The captain had returned at the hour he promised; but how differently! The flag fell from his face as the corpse was being lifted on deck. The eyes were open and staring horribly; the teeth were clenched, and the mouth wore that same bad, disagreeable expression it had worn two short hours before, when, full of life and strength, and confiding in the firmness of his nerve and his correct eye, he had stepped carelessly down the companion-ladder, determined grievously to wound or to take the