denial, and returns home with a light purse but a merry cheerful heart, for has he not to meet all that he holds dear in the world? Again, he reverts to his "love in a cottage," and £155 a year.

Owing to the flattering report of the admiral on the paying off of his last ship, together with a good word from his last captain, who has interest, he is appointed to commission a ship, and to the envy of many not so fortunate he mounts his uniform and hoists his pendant. His pay of £365 a year is now augmented by command money, £68 a year; but fitting out is expensive work, and pride and zeal are expensive, his pride in his ship would lead him into all manner of extravagances not allowed by the dock yard, he would like to gild the figure-head, and put a little of the same precious metal about the ornamental part of the stern, but the want of that same precious metal in another form in his pocket forbids it.

Rosaline is now so proud of her husband, she has a firm belief that there is not another officer in the navy equal to him, and she is a true wife to believe it. But wife and husband, children and father, must again part. Will they ever meet again? Aye, Mr. Holdfast, such questions as these will rise on such occasions, and although with bursting hearts we say, "the three years will soon pass" we know to the contrary, and we know not what may happen before that. But, heave round, boys, stamp and go, strike up, fiddler, the anchor's apeak,-brace round the head yards, and again we are on "the sea, the sea, the open sea, so wide, so free, etc.," but it is of no use, the words stick in our throat like a lump, and nothing but duty and time, blessed time, will remove it.

The commander has now to keep his own table, has had to lay in his own stock of wine, port, sherry, and marsala, perhaps a case or two of claret and the same of champagne, for very high days; he must occasionally entertain two or three of his officers, or he would be considered a shabby fellow, and it would not do to be thought that, even though Rosy may have to go without a winter frock and Jack go about in shabby knickerbockers.

Six months from England and he hears of another addition to his family, he pulls rather a long face, as well he might, but when the letter assures him that both his wife and the little "Newcome are doing well, and he reads a small piece of crumpled paper scrawled rather than written, with a pencil from herself, telling him, oh such sweet words! and that she was thinking of him all the time, he stealthily kisses the precious document. It would not do, oh no, for the captain to be seen guilty of such weakness, so he crushes the paper into his pocket, and seizing his cap, rushes on deck and looks

long and earnestly through his spy glass at-nothing-and hums "In Providence I trust,

For what must be must "

and then "giving his sighs to the wind" resumes his wonted dignity. Some months after he receives another letter in the wellknown hand but somewhat shaky. His heart misgives him when he sees the black border, and below in his inner cabin where no eye can see him, he learns that his dear bright-eyed child Rosy had gone to the haven of rest, and that six weeks ago she was laid in her narrow home. Oh how sudden! quite well, and merry as the lark, by the last letter-dead and buried by this!-can it be possible? that little thing that twined herself so closely round his heart, that to separate them seemed like tearing away the old ivy from the older wall, the one would scarcely go without the other, and I away! It must be a dream! but oh no! there lies the too true telltale letter -but

"Draw the curtain close

And let us all to meditation."

What are you doing aft there? Don't make a noise. The ship knows well there is something the matter, never was such a stillness, the men take off their shoes as they pass over the Captain's headthe very orders are given in a subdued tone and are silently obeyed -no sound of laughter rises from the wardroom-the very mirth of the gunroom is quenched, for has not the Captain we all respect received bad news?

Yes, Mr. Holdfast, that is another of the things he is paid for, but how much do you value it at? What is its market value in the City? they say everything can be ticketed there—what's the figure? don't blow your nose and wipe the dust out of your eyes, but speak up like a man if you have any voice left.

Orders for home! hurrah! The capstan flies round and the fiddle is "nowhere" in regard to time,

"Hoist, hoist, every sail to the wind,

The course of my vessel improve,
I've done with the toils of the sea,

And, sailors, I'm bound for my love."

Oh that provoking order "to proceed home under sail." No coals to be consumed without being hauled over the coals for doing so; those dreadful calms, the hopes, the fears, the amount of breath expended in whistling for wind, all these trifles are magnified; but at last the welcome order is given to "let go the anchor," and once more our hero is on shore.

We will get hurriedly through three years in the coastguard as

Inspecting Commander, which appointment he is fortunate in getting, and when he may be said to live in clover.

He at last is promoted to a Captain, and he retires from active duties to half-pay of £191 a year, or just sixpence a day more than he had become entitled to as a commander.

Jack has now to be sent to school, we will say he is sent to the Royal Naval School at New Cross as it is not only the cheapest, but the boy has a chance of winning a cadetship. Forty pounds a year, or we should say per nine months, with clothes, travelling, etc., comes very heavy, but as Rosaline says, "we must make some sacrifices for the dear boy," so wine becomes a myth in the household, the evening glass of gin and water becomes more watery, the small beer becomes smaller, and the occasional cigar is changed for a pipe, the other children's clothes are turned again on the principle that one good turn deserves another, and Rosaline's cheeks are not quite so plump as they were, but all are cheerful and hopeful, for Jack is a steady boy, holds his own at the school, and is going in steadily for a cadetship.

The captain cannot expect a ship yet, he is too young both in rank and age, having received his promotion at forty-three; but he hopes for one, and his friends are on the look-out. One year, two years pass and no appointment; the £300 saved, in spite of the most rigid economy, has shrunk to one-half that figure, and his agent's account sets him thinking, he thinks as he sleeps, and as he shaves, and cannot help thinking-as he prays. Yes, Mr. Holdfast, you need not open your eyes so wide! we repeat it—as he prays; sailors may be devil-may-care fellows, they brave all kinds of danger, but in their heart of hearts they mostly have a God enshrined to whom they pray.

A telegram! "From Jack, to Captain, Dear Papa, Have won second cadetship-shall be home to-morrow." Oh what joy! how Rosaline kisses her husband and the children, she is so happy! so is the captain, but he cannot help thinking how much better it would have been if Jack could have won the first, which carries with it the Yarborough Scholarship, equal to about £40, it would have helped so much to fit him out. Jack however comes home and is received with all the honours of a hero. We will assume that he is successful in passing the ordeal at the College at Portsmouth, and that he is safely shipped on board the Britannia, where we will leave him to work his way as his father had done before him. The father returns home to count up the cost, and finds that the cost of travelling to Portsmouth, and to Dartmouth, with numerous

other necessary expenses, make a great hole in what was fondly hoped to be the "nest egg."

Within three years our captain gets a ship; his pay of £400 a year, and command money of £137, making a total of £537. He is a happy man, but what with Jack's fit out and yearly expenses he must, in order to take his ship again, have recourse to his agent, who again advances the sum desired; it will take a long time to pay that off; however the appointment must be accepted and the agent must be paid.

In the course of the commission he again frees himself from the agent's debt, keeps his wife like a lady, sends his children to school, keeps Jack at sea, and on getting his Christmas account from his agent's, after he has paid his ship off finds the sum of £249 16s. 74d. to his credit. His half-pay is now increased to 12s. 6d. a day or £228 a year. In the course of a couple of years having a good name and being not backward in asking, he gets another appointment for another three years' service. We will now give him the full benefit of his increased pay, amounting in all to £733 a year; this indeed is harvest time. The credit side at the agent's, although reduced to a low ebb on commissioning the ship, now shows the formidable sum of upwards of £500 after all expenses, and he settles down again on his £228 a year, not without hope that he may get another chance and eventually reach his flag. But year after year passes, his hopes lessen, his energy is not what it was, it is close work to make ends meet, even to trespassing at the rate of £50 a year on his capital to meet Jack's wants, Jim's schooling, Jenny's ditto-the extras are a puzzle never fathomed-and baby's (thank Heaven, still the baby) endless wants.

Were we to attempt to give our hero another ship, to bring him to that goal of ambition to which every naval man aspires, namely, his flag, we should be accused of going beyond the mean average of success in the Royal Navy. What say you, Sir Henry, Admiral and K.C.B.? you cannot say the generality of your brother officers have been so fortunate as yourself. Well and honestly acknowledged. And what say you, grey-headed Lieutenant? We beg your pardon, Retired Commander? You wish you had had the luck of our hero. Ah! we dare say you do, but you are in goodly company in your M.N.O.P.W. lists, and a glance at them makes us think we have gone too far, and had we shelved our hero after his first ship as commander it would perhaps have been nearer the mark. We probably should have done so but for the object we have in convincing Mr. Holdfast, that even to the highest rank of those who perished in the Captain-without they be men of

private means, to which class this paper does not refer the means provided by Government are too limited to allow an officer to make adequate provision for his family after his death.

Our captain seeing no prospect of further advancement before him, and finding that in another year he would be retired by reason of non-service, in accordance with the late Order in Council, accepts the retirement which in his case with twenty-seven years sea time, age fifty-five, gives him the handsome competency of £550 a year. That is his cottage, the one with a flag-staff, "Brunette Villa" it is called after his first command, and there is the captain in his shirt sleeves planting his early potatoes, of which he is very proud, and that young woman and boy racing round the garden are Jenny and the baby, Jim is apprenticed to an engineer, the captain could not afford to send him to sea! Jack is a lieutenant and doing well, and that middle-aged lady sitting at work in the summer house, who is not ashamed to wear her own greyish hair, is Rosaline.

You say you have heard of "pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen," and does not this prize-money count for anything in the way of remuneration? Well, it is certainly true, that a little prizemoney is made now and then, just to keep up the delusion, but we may fairly say that as an investment, the reversion of all the prize-money made would be dear at £5 a head for each officer throughout his whole career.

You say also, Mr. Holdfast, that we have not taken into account the value of provisions. We regret the omission, but it is not of very great importance, the value is about sixteen pounds a year; Government estimates the cost at about six or seven pounds. A sailor Secretary of the Admiralty kindly substituted the latter payment for the value in kind of the former amount, and, acting on the strictly co-operative principle, while paying an officer fourpence a pound for beef, permitted him, if necessity caused him to want some, to purchase it at eightpence from Government stores, and would you believe the ingratitude of these same officers, they "would not see it," some even had the temerity to ask for their pound and their pint instead of their money-confound their impudence for daring to think what was best for them! We tender our thanks to the present Board for abrogating this obnoxious regulation.

Supplied with mess utensils? Yes, sir, they are in all messes, but when we were in a wardroom, we found, on a near calculation, that we paid in the three years between two and three hundred per cent. for the use of those mess utensils. But you thought servants were allowed. So they are, but they are not paid enough to keep them honest.