indomitable opposer of official corruption at all times and places, a friend of seamen and of everything that could tend to seamen's welfare, an acute inventor of mechanical and chemical appliances, and a warm-hearted and generous man in all the relations of life. His unhesitating audacity often brought him into troubles which he might easily have avoided; but it resulted from a firm reliance on the honesty of his own intentions. A journal whose vocation is to supply weekly budgets of fun and frolic, but whose pages have been open to the pathos of Thomas Hood and other noble spirits, gave some stanzas of burning eloquence to the memory of Dundonald. Let us transcribe three of the earlier and four of the later of these stanzas:

32

'A sea-king, whose fit place had been by Blake,
Or our own Nelson, had he been but free
To follow glory's quest upon
the sea,
Leading the conquered navies in his wake.

A captain, whom it had been ours to cheer
From conquest on to conquest, had our land
But set its wisest, worthiest in command,
Not such as hated all the good revere.

We let them cage the lion while the fire

In his high heart burnt clear and unsubdued;
We let them stir that frank and forward mood
From greatness to the self-consuming ire.

He came

Back to his England, bankrupt, save of praise,
To eat his heart, through weary, wishful days,
And shape his strength to bearing of his shame.

Till, slow but sure, drew on a better time,

And statesmen owned the check of public will;
And, at the last, light pierced the shadow chill
That fouled his honour with the taint of crime.

And then they gave him back the knightly spurs
Which he had never forfeited-the rank
From which he ne'er by ill-deserving sank,
More than the lion sinks for yelp of curs.

Justice had lingered on its road too long:
The lion was grown old; the time gone by,
When for his aid we vainly raised a cry,

To save our flag from shame, our decks from wrong.'

HAVE to-day, December 15, 1764, visited Dr Snarl, and received from him £10, the amount of my half-year's salary. The receipt even of this hard-earned sum was attended with some uncomfortable circumstances.

Not until I had waited an hour and a half in the cold ante-room was I admitted into the presence of my reverend employer, who was seated in an easy-chair at his writing-desk. The money designed for me was lying by him, ready counted. My low bow he returned with a lofty side-nod, while he slightly pushed back his beautiful black silk cap, and immediately drew it on again. Really, he is a man of much dignity; and I feel I can never approach him without the awe I should have in entering the presence of a king.

He did not urge me to be seated, although he well knew that I had walked eleven miles in the bad weather, and that the hour and a half's standing in the ante-room had not much helped to rest my wearied limbs. He pointed me to the money. My heart beat violently when I attempted to introduce the subject which I had been for some time contemplating—a little increase of my salary. With an agony as if I were about to commit a crime, I endeavoured to break ground, but at every effort words and voice failed me. 'Did you wish to say anything?' observed the rector very politely. No. 10.

I

'Why-yes-pardon me; everything is so dear that I am scarcely able to get along in these hard times with this small salary.'

'Small salary! How can you think so? I can at any time procure another vicar for £15 a year.'

'For £15! Without a family, one might indeed manage with that sum.'

"I hope your family, Mr Vicar, has not received any addition? You have, I think, only two daughters?'

'Yes, only two, your reverence; but they are growing up. Jenny, my eldest, is now eighteen, and Polly, the younger, will soon be twelve.' 'So much the better. Cannot your girls work?'

I was about to reply, when he cut the interview short by rising and observing, while he went to the window, that he was sorry he had no time to talk with me to-day. 'But you can think it over,' he concluded, 'whether you will retain your situation for a Newyear's gift.'

He bowed very politely, and touched his cap, as if wishing me to be gone. I accordingly lifted the money, and took my leave, quite disheartened. I had never been received or dismissed so coldly before, and fear that some one has been speaking ill of me. He did not invite me to dinner, or to partake of any refreshment, as he had done on former occasions. Unfortunately I had depended on him doing so, for I came from home without breaking my fast. Having bought a penny loaf at a baker's shop in the outskirts of the town, I took my way homeward.

How cast-down was I as I trudged along! I cried like a child. The bread I was eating was wet with my tears.

But fy, Thomas! Shame upon thy faint heart!

Lives not the

gracious God still? What if thou hadst lost the place entirely? And it is only £5 less! It is indeed a quarter of my whole little yearly stipend, and it leaves barely 10d. a day to feed and clothe three of us. What is there left for us? He who clothes the lilies of the field, and feeds the young ravens, will He not shield us with his Providence? Arouse thee, faint heart! We must deny ourselves some of our wonted luxuries.

Dec. 16.-I believe Jenny is an angel. Her soul is more beautiful than her person. I am almost ashamed of being her father; she is so much more pious than I am.

I had not the courage yesterday to tell my girls the bad news. When I mentioned it to-day, Jenny at first looked very serious, but suddenly she brightened up and said, 'You are disquieted, father?' 'Should I not be so?' I replied.

'No, you should not.'

'Dear child,' said I, we shall never be free from debt and trouble. I do not know how we can endure our harassments. You see our need is sore; £15 will hardly suffice for the bare necessaries of existence; and who will assist us?'

Polly seated herself on my knee, patted my face, and said: 'I wish to tell you something, dear father. I dreamt last night that it was New-year's day, and that the king came to C, where there was a splendid show. His majesty dismounted from his horse before our door and came in. We had nothing to set before him, and he ordered some of his own dainties to be brought in vessels of gold and silver. Military music sounded outside, and, only think, with the sounds some people entered, carrying a bishop's mitre on a velvet cushion. It looked very funny, like the pointed caps of the bishops in the old picture-books. The mitre was put on your head, and it became you grandly. Yet the oddity of the thing caused me to laugh till I was out of breath; and then Jenny waked me up, which made me quite angry. Surely this dream has something to do with a New-year's present; and it is now only fourteen days till New-year's day.'

'Oh,' said I to Polly, 'how can you speak of such nonsense? Dreams can never come true but by accident.'

'But, father, are not dreams from God?'

'No, no, child; put away all such fancies.'

Although I said so to Polly, I write the dream down. When in despair, one is apt to seize on any trifle for support. A New-year's gift would certainly be acceptable to all of us.

I do not like accounts.

All day I have been at my accounts. Reckoning and money-matters distract my head, and make my heart empty and heavy.

Dec. 17.-My debts, God be praised, are all now paid but one. At five different places I paid off £7, IIS. fore left in ready money £2, 9s. help us!

I have thereThis must last a half-year. God

The black hose that I saw at tailor Cutbay's I must leave unpurchased, although I need them greatly. They are indeed pretty well worn, yet still in good condition, and the price is reasonable; but Jenny needs a cloak a great deal more. I pity the dear child when I see her shivering in that thin camlet. Polly must be satisfied with the cloak which her sister has made for her so nicely out of her old one.

I must give up my share of the newspaper which neighbour Westburn and I took together; and this goes hard with me. Here in C——, without a newspaper, one knows nothing of the course of affairs. At the horse races at Newmarket the Duke of Cumberland won £5000 of the Duke of Grafton. It is wonderful how literally the words of Scripture are always fulfilled, 'To him who hath shall be given;' and 'From him who hath not shall be taken away?' I must lose £5 of even my poor salary.

Again murmuring; fy upon me. Wherefore should I complain? Not surely for a newspaper which I am no longer able to take. May not I learn from others whether General Paoli succeeds in

maintaining the freedom of Corsica, or any such matter of foreign news? I do not fear for Paoli, for he has 20,000 veterans.

Dec. 18.-How little makes a poor family happy! Jenny has procured a grand cloak at the slop shop for a mere trifle; and now she is sitting there with Polly, ripping it to pieces, in order to make it up anew. Jenny understands how to trade and bargain better than I; but they let her have things at her own price, her voice is so gentle. We have now joy upon joy. Jenny wants to appear in the new cloak for the first time on New-year's day; and Polly has a hundred comments and predictions about it. I wager the Dey of Algiers had not greater pleasure in the costly present which the Venetians made him-the two diamond rings, the two watches set with brilliants, the pistols inlaid with gold, the costly carpets, the rich housings, and the 20,000 sequins in cash.

Jenny says we must save the cloak in luxuries. day we must buy no meat. This is as it should be.

Until New-year's

Neighbour Westburn is a noble man. I told him yesterday I must discontinue my subscription for the newspaper, because I am not sure of my present salary, nor even of my place. He shook my hand and said: 'Very well, then I will take the paper, and you shall still read it with me.'

One must never despair. There are more good men in the world than one thinks, especially among the poor.

When

The

The same day, eve.-The baker is a somewhat narrow-minded man. Although I owe him nothing, he fears that I may. Polly went to fetch a loaf, and found it very small and badly risen, or half-burnt, he broke out into a quarrel with her, so that people stopped in the street. He declared that he would not sell upon credit -that we must go elsewhere for our bread. I pitied Polly. I wonder how the people here know everything. Every one in the village is telling how the rector is going to put another curate in my place. It is distressing, and will be the death of me. butcher even must have got a hint of it. It certainly was not without design that he sent his wife to me with complaints about the bad times, and the impossibility of selling any longer for anything but cash. She was indeed very polite, and could not find words to express her love and respect for us. She advised us to go to Colswood, and buy the little meat we want of him, as he is a richer man, and is able to wait for his money. I cared not to tell the good woman how that person treated us a year ago, when he charged us a penny a pound more than others for his meat; and when his abusive language could not help him out, and he could not deny it, how he declared roundly that he must receive a little interest when he was kept out of his money a whole year, and then shewed us the door.

I still have in ready money £2, 1s. 3d. What shall I do if no one will trust me, so that I may pay my bills quarterly? And if