w of delights and joys which it could never expect
to realize.

Mr. Ricker, the mate, now took command of the brig. This man possessed
a warm and affectionate heart, and was deeply moved by the death of
the captain. He wept aloud when the interment took place, and sought to
alleviate his grief by copious draughts of spirituous liquors. He wept
and drank himself to sleep while reclining on a hen-coop. In a few hours
he awoke, and wept again; then told the cook to bring the brandy bottle,
which soon acted as an opiate, and banished his sorrows. He pursued this
course, crying and drinking for more than a week; and during the greater
part of this time, while I was witnessing scenes of sadness and death
enough to chill the stoutest heart, he incapacitated himself, by
intoxication, from performing his duties as commander of the ill-fated
vessel.

Smith was still lingering under the attack of a disease which we now
knew to be yellow fever. He was gradually growing worse. Others of the
crew were also visited by this dreadful pestilence, and the deck of the
brig resembled one of the fever wards of a hospital. The groans of the
poor fellows were enough, one would think, to create sympathy in the
coldest bosom. But they had no effect upon Gaskell, excepting to excite
derision; and when he spoke to his sick or dying shipmates with a ribald
jest on his lips, and a scornful grin on his features, I longed to fell
him to the deck. I rebuked him for his want of feeling, and suggested
that, proud as he was of his strength and immunity from sickness, he
might, notwithstanding, become an object of sympathy to his shipmates,
and need their assistance. The answer I received was a boisterous laugh,
as if the idea was too absurd to be entertained.

Many years have passed since these events occurred, but even now I
cannot recur to them without a feeling of sadness. And no one, not
familiar with such scenes, can form an idea of the distress which a
mortal sickness produces on board a ship at sea. The captain had died,
and the mate, who should have taken his place, was constantly in a state
of beastly intoxication. Three of the crew were struggling with yellow
fever, and, to add to our troubles, Gaskell made his way into the hold,
and broached a cask of wine; and those who were not sick followed the
example of the mate, and got drunk, and drowned in vociferous shouts
and songs the groans of their suffering shipmates. Under these
circumstances,