discover it for myself. In the evening I went back to my
grandmother's. I wanted Charley to accompany me, but he said that he
thought he had better keep out of the way, or out of sight. This I have
since found the Tempter--that great enemy of man--always does when he
can. He does his best to hide the hook with which he angles for souls,
as well as to conceal himself; and we may justly be suspicious of people
who dare not come forward to explain their objects and intentions
regarding us. Even in a worldly point of view, the caution I give is
very necessary. It was not, however, till long, long after that I found
all this out. I had not been seated at the tea-table many minutes
before I opened the subject which lay nearest my heart. My kind
grandmother and Aunt Bretta used all the arguments they could think of
to induce me to stay at home, and so powerful and reasonable did they
seem, that had I not been ashamed of facing Charley and confessing that
I was defeated, I should, at all events for the time, have yielded to
their wishes. They pictured to me all the horrors of being shipwrecked
and being cast on a barren island, or tossed about at sea on a raft, or
having to live among savages, or being half starved or parched with
thirst,--indeed, they had little difficulty in finding subjects on which
to enlarge. They also reminded me that, as I had no friends and no
interest, if I went to sea they could do nothing for me, and that though
Mr Iffley might be a very kind man, he could not be expected to care so
much for me as he would for his own son, and perhaps I might have to
remain before the mast all my life. All this I knew was very true, but
I could not bear the idea of being laughed at by Charley and his father,
and in my eagerness I swore vehemently that go to sea I would, in spite
of everything they could say; and I declared that I didn't mind though I
might be cast away a dozen times, or go wandering about the ocean and
never come back,--indeed, I scarcely know what wicked and foolish things
I said on the occasion.

My poor grandmother and aunt were dreadfully shocked at the way I had
expressed myself. They had too much respect for an oath themselves,
even though it was as rash as mine, to endeavour to make me break it,
and with tears streaming down her face my grandmother told me, that if
such was my resolution, she had no longer the wish to oppose it. There
was something very sad in her countenance, and