The first question put to me was touching the place of my nativity, which I declared to be the north of Scotland.

"The north of Ireland more like!" cried the captain; "but we shall bring you up presently." He then asked what religion I professed; and when I answered "the Protestant," swore I was an arrant Roman as ever went to mass.

"Come, come, clerk," continued he, "catechise him a little on this subject." But before I relate the particulars of the clerk's inquiries, it will not be amiss to inform the reader that our commander himself was an Hibernian, and, if not shrewdly belied, a Roman Catholic to boot.

"You say, you are a Protestant," said the clerk; "make the sign of the cross with your finger, so, and swear upon it to that affirmation." When I was about to perform the ceremony, the captain cried with some emotion, "No, no, d--me! I'll have no profanation neither.

But go on with your interrogations." "Well then," proceeded my examiner, "how many sacraments are there ?" To which I replied, "Two." "What are they ?" said he.