Still I was no coward, for I would always defend myself against any boy of my size, and was ready to undertake the usual hazardous enterprises of children; but a subtle poison was working within, which bade fair to render the mind imbecile, and to undermine the constitution. My parents became sensible of our altered condition, and when it was almost beyond redemption, were made acquainted with the cause. My father, in his usual blunt manner, made use of a strong argument against ghosts. “Boys,” said he, “you are a pack of fools: remember this, that those who are gone to Heaven, are too happy to quit it; and those who are gone to a place of torment, the devil won’t part with even for a moment.” Of course a change took place among the servants, who were blamed for instilling pernicious principles into our minds, but which they could not have done had my parents used a little more watchfulness to guard against it. I was destined for the sea, and at an early age to sea I went. But though I had risen superior to many apprehensions which once tortured me, yet there were times when I could not entirely conquer former weaknesses; and a few weeks after the frigate to which I belonged had left Plymouth on a three months’ cruise, one of the quartermasters of the name of Buckley died, and, as is the usual custom, the body was sewed up in a hammock preparatory to interment. The poor fellow had expired late in the afternoon, and the committal of the corpse to the deep was to take place the following morning. Now Buckley had shown me a great deal of kindness, and taught me to knot and splice, and other parts of a seaman’s duty; besides, he had always slept at no great distance from me, and both of us were in the same watch; yet I could not subdue the horror I felt struggling in my breast, at the thoughts of passing the night near the cock-pit where I supposed the dead man to be laid. I dared not mention a word of this to my messmates, lest it should have ruined my character for ever; and as I was to take the morning watch, I went early to my hammock--but not to sleep. The close proximity to the corpse excited the most sickening sensations, which I found it impossible to get rid of; horrible phantoms floated before my imagination, and if weary nature exerted her prerogative and sank into repose for a moment, I started with dread lest the cold hand of the old man should be pressed heavily on my heart. At length my mind was harrowed up beyond human endurance; the watch below had turned in; there was no light except the glimmering in the lantern of the sentry, and he sat dozing at his post. I thought I could catch the spot where the corpse was extended, and faintly discern the outline of his form. To remain longer was impossible; the bell struck four,[1] and slipping on my jacket and trousers, over which I hastily wrapped my watch-coat, I cautiously ascended to the deck, but, ashamed to be seen, I crept