n we did
before my father's return.

One evening I was, as usual, with Anderson in his cabin, my father
having been drafted into his ward, I could not help asking Anderson how
he liked him. His reply was, "I like your father, Jack, for he is a
straightforward, honest, good-tempered man, and, moreover, has a good
natural judgment. I think it a great pity that such a man as he is
should be so early in life lost, as it were, to the country. He is a
first-rate seaman; and although there are many like him, still there are
none to spare. However, if his country loses, he may himself gain, by
being so soon called away from a service of great temptation. The
sailor who has fought for his country, Jack, has much to be thankful for
when he takes in moorings at Greenwich Hospital. He is well fed, well
clothed, tended in sickness, and buried with respect; but all these are
nothing compared with the greatest boon. When I reflect what lives
sailors live, how reckless they are, how often they have been on the
brink of eternity, and wonderfully preserved, without even a feeling of
gratitude to Him who has watched over them, or taking their escapes as
warnings; when I consider how they pass their whole lives in excess,
intemperance, and, too often, blasphemy, it is indeed a mercy that they
are allowed to repose here after such a venturous and careless career;
that they have time to reflect upon what has passed, to listen to the
words of the Gospel, to hate their former life, and trusting in God's
mercy to secure their salvation. This is the greatest charity of this
institution, and long may it flourish, a blessing to the country which
has endowed it, and to the seamen, who are not only provided for in this
world, but are prepared in it for the next."

Such were continually the style of admonitions given me by this good old
man, and I need not point out to the reader how fortunate it was for me
that I had secured such a preceptor.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

IN WHICH IS PROVED THE TRUTH OF THE PROVERB "WHEN YOUR OWN HOUSE IS MADE
OF GLASS, YOU NEVER SHOULD BE THE FIRST TO THROW STONES."

One evening, when I went to the shop of the widow St. Felix to purchase
some tobacco for my father, she said, "Why don't your father come
himself, Jack? I want to make his acquaintance, and see how he looks
without his pigtail."

"Why, you never saw him when he had it on," replied I.

"No, that's the truth; but still I wish to have a sight of