"'In a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into its depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.'

"This part of the ceremony is rather less impressive than the
correspondent part on land; but still there is something solemn, as
well as startling, in the sudden splash, followed by the sound of the
grating, as it is towed along under the main-chains.

"In a fine day at sea, in smooth water, and when all the ship's company
and officers are assembled, the ceremony just described, although a
melancholy one, as it must always be, is often so pleasing, all things
considered, that it is calculated to leave even cheerful impressions on
the mind."

(Even Captain Hall, however, admits that a sea-funeral may sometimes
be a scene of unmixed sadness; and he records the following as the most
impressive of all the hundreds he has witnessed. It occurred in the
Leander, off the coast of North America.)

"There was a poor little middy on board, so delicate and fragile, that
the sea was clearly no fit profession for him; but he or his friends
thought otherwise; and as he had a spirit for which his frame was no
match, he soon gave token of decay. This boy was a great favourite with
every body--the sailors smiled whenever he passed, as they would have
done to a child--the officers petted him, and coddled him up with
all sorts of good things--and his messmates, in a style which did not
altogether please him, but which he could not well resist, as it was
meant most kindly, nicknamed him Dolly. Poor fellow!--he was long
remembered afterwards. I forget what his particular complaint was, but