“I went on building and building until I gave up taking ground for one or two houses, but took it for ten, then fifteen, then twenty, and then for twenty-seven. All one side of Bessborough Street was built by me. My son was an immense help to me. Of course, as might have been expected, my career was not one of uninterrupted prosperity. Things went very hard with me once or twice; but my troubles were chiefly owing to the political commotion of the times, which disturbed trade and unsettled men’s minds. The Chartist riots did me some harm, as did also the Feargus O’Connor disturbances, and some trade disputes. “It was during the time of the Chartist disturbances that my troubles reached their climax, and that I really thought that results, for which I had so long laboured, were about to be removed from my reach for ever. One day, when I was really unable to say how my engagements were to be met, one of my foremen came and said there was a gentleman waiting to see me about a house. I said— “‘Don’t bother! no one wants to buy a house in these times. “‘But he is a decent-looking man,’ said the foreman. “‘It’s no good. I see no hope of getting out of the present difficulties, and I shall have to discharge you all.’ “‘I advise you to see the man. He looks a business man.’ “I went to see the gentleman, who was no other than the father of Dr. Moore. As it happened, this was another turn in my life. “‘What do you want for this house?’ “‘Seven hundred guineas.’ “‘Well, I will come and look at it on Sunday with my son.’ “‘I can’t show it to you then. I don’t do business on a Sunday.’ “‘Very well; I don’t know that I can come again.’ “The next day, which was Sunday, passed in a very uncomfortable manner. Listening to the sermon, even the thought flashed before me as to whether I had not better have made the appointment; but it was dismissed at once. I was almost glad when the Sunday was over. The next day I really had an impression that he would come, and I said so to my wife. She agreed with me. “At half-past ten that morning, to my great delight, the ’bus stopped at the corner of the street, and the young doctor and his father alighted. “‘I have told my son,’ said the doctor, ‘that you wouldn’t let us see your house on the Sunday, and we both say you did quite right. If a man can’t do without working on a Sunday, he will never do with it. I went to sea when I was fourteen years of age, and have travelled the world almost twice over, and I have done my business without working on Sunday.’ “He looked at the house, and liked it very well, and then said— “‘I will give you the money in Dutch consols.’ “‘Well, doctor, I don’t know what Dutch consols really are; I want 700 guineas in British money.’ “He left me, the matter being still rather uncertain; but the next day he came to see me again, and I took him into my parlour. He said—