A marked degree of ill-will, on the part of several of the crew in one of his early voyages, followed his prevailing separation from familiar association with them. This was exhibited by innumerable tokens and expressions, both in word and action. Jeers, insinuations and ridicule, were indulged in with painful and increasing frequency, and these not unmixed with contemptuous or offensive actions. Naturally spirited and quick-tempered, as the subject of this ungenerous behaviour was constitutionally, it was hard to restrain the expression of indignation, or to resist the urgent impulse to a just retaliation. But, acting on the system of non-retaliation, so long as they kept “hands off,” he bore this persecution with extraordinary forbearance. For constitutionally strong and energetic, few would have been able to compete with him, as the issue proved, if the lion in him were roused. His height was now near six feet; his frame was strong-boned and muscular; his vigour and activity were unusually great. But he restrained himself to the utmost, and his great strength, as to the perceptions of his associates, continued long unknown. At length the time of resistance, which he could not but feel must some time or other arrive, came. It happened in this way. My Father had descended the deck after his watch, and with the view, I believe, of retiring, as usual, to a quiet part of the vessel alone, when two of the crew made on him a premeditated attack—a kind of half-joking assault by no trifling hits, rudely grasping him at the same moment, one on each side. Endeavouring to shake them off without coming to extremities, he quietly requested them to desist. Their sinister defiance and rudeness in grappling him increased in offensiveness. “You had _better_ be quiet;” “Do be quiet;” “Let me alone;” and other peace-desiring solicitations of like kind, were tried. But the attack and effort to throw him became more determined. At length, after a firm and decided utterance to the command “Hands off!” indicating that the spirit was up, the attacked party in his turn grappled the necks of his assailants, one with each hand, and, taking advantage of the muscular reaction, after they had made a simultaneous but ineffective thrust against him, he flung them, by a Samson-like impulse, right and left, and both of them fell, heavily, prostrate on the deck! So unawares was the throw, and so totally unsustained by cautionary preparation, that, as to one of them, the subject of this self-earned retribution, lay motionless, insensible, and bleeding! Others of the crew who had noticed the scuffle came up, and seeing the man lie so helpless, and apparently inanimate, exclaimed, “He is dead! Scoresby has done for him!” Happily, the catastrophe was not so serious. By and by there was a return of motion, and obvious reflux of life; but when at length the prostrate had, with much difficulty, gathered himself up, he contrived to stagger meekly enough