So sad our state by nature is, Our sin how deep its stains, And Satan binds our willing souls Fast in his slavish chains. One very warm summer day, we (that is, myself, master, and his father) were after the hay, on the bank of the Waveney, and I told them I should like to have a bathe. They cautioned me to be careful I was not drowned. I repeated that I should make the attempt, but they tried to dissuade me. I told them to “Look out!” and I went over and back easily and safety—preserved and supported by an Omnipotent Almighty hand, when many have been permitted to sink in the stream, and are lost! lost! lost! for ever. This is the manner in which my giddy steps were preserved, and my youthful career safely and lovingly onward led, and I was permitted to see the “bright light in the cloud.” I will now state that my apprenticeship closed on the 31st of December, in the year above-mentioned. It began on the 24th of May, 1825. Having agreed with my master to work for him for a time, I commenced to work as journeyman. After having visited a few of my old friends, I took lodgings near with a couple of aged people named Whyatt, where I was very comfortable. Their youngest son had been apprenticed to Mr. Pidgeon, my friend John having left, or was about leaving his master, and very soon after was summoned to bid adieu to all earthly things, and to enter into his everlasting rest, into which the writer desires to be found, waiting and watching, even unto the end of his course. I started in housekeeping—bought good bread at Jones’s, of Beccles, and good meat at Crickmoy’s, near the “Red Lion Inn,” and other necessaries were easily obtainable, so that I got on during the first winter fairly well, but had not much money to spare, for perhaps I could have done more work if I had had more alloted to me, but was thankful that the prospect was encouraging. I worked and sung, walked to my lodgings and enjoyed my coffee and my rest. I did not book myself at this station only for a short time; the other apprentice, James Smith, was becoming useful, and as the winter passed away, the work in summer did not come in so briskly. During the summer of this year, 1830, the reign of George IV. came to an end, a short reign, but many troubles, and the national mind manifested no expression of regret on the demise of this self-indulgent and passion-gratifying monarch, while that of his predecessor was said to be just, pious, temperate, and beneficent; every domestic and social grace adorned his character—the ruler and the ornament of a powerful and wealthy empire. William Henry succeeded to the throne under the title of William IV.