During the discharging of the cargo, my Father received vexatious abuse, without any provocation on his part, from the chief-mate of the ship, which so annoyed him that, under the impulse of a strongly excited feeling, he had resolved to quit the Jane, and enter on board His Majesty’s ship the Royal George, just then passing them from the graving-dock, where she had been undergoing repairs. But reflecting on something which, in the bustle and confusion amongst her crew as she hauled away, he had observed incongruous with his feelings, he happily paused in his hasty resolve, and ultimately decided on submitting himself to a continuance, though under the constant exposure to like arbitrary annoyance, of the duties of his humble station, with a view to the fulfilment of the engagement he had entered into with the owner of the Jane. And, as estimated by the probability of his being involved in the disaster of that ill-fated ship, had he entered on board of her, the decision appeared to be Providentially guided; for at no long interval after this time it was that the Royal George came to her end so strangely, as to place the catastrophe alone and without parallel, amid the varied and marvellous records of our naval history. The story is well known. She was “careening,” for the purpose of having some caulking of her seams effected, or damage of her copper sheathing repaired, whilst anchored at Spithead, with her lower-deck ports open in all imaginable safety. A sudden squall, whilst the ship swung across the tide, laid her on her beam-ends; the water poured in by the open ports in such force and quantity, that she sunk in less than eight minutes, involving officers, men, and visitors, so generally in the common catastrophe, that out of about 1200 souls, or upward, on board, only 331 escaped alive! The brave Admiral Kempenfelt, an experienced and accomplished navigator, who, through many perils of war and tempest had passed unscathed, suffered among the rest, a fate which, very probably, had been that of my Father, had he carried out his impetuously-formed design. But, with the good hand of God upon him, he escaped the then unimagined peril. * * * * * On the laying up of the Jane for the winter, the seamen, as usual, were discharged, and the apprentices sent by a coasting vessel passengers to Whitby. My Father repaired to his country home for the interval of service, until summoned again to London, in the early spring of 1781, to join his ship on her being chartered for a voyage to Riga, for a cargo of deals for the Government. SECTION III.—_His Progress as a Seaman, with Incidents of Sea-Life._