For five years, until 1870, he was in command of the _Minotaur_. The high esteem in which he was held was shown by his having been selected to assist in the revictualling of Paris after the Prussian siege, and also in distributing the peasant relief fund, when, accompanied by his wife, he gained the affection of all with whom he came in contact. In 1871 the Admiralty again employed him to visit and report on the naval dockyards of Russia, Austria, Italy, and France,--another proof of the confidence reposed in him. At length, on the 22nd of May 1873, he was appointed to command HMS _Pearl_, as commodore on the Australian station. He went out with the determination of doing his utmost for the advancement of science and for furthering the cause of humanity. In the duties he had undertaken he was engaged for nearly two years, during which, while cruising through various parts of the Western Pacific, he never failed when visiting islands inhabited by savage races to endeavour by every means in his power to establish with them a friendly intercourse. On the 12th of August he had landed at Carlisle Bay, on the island of Santa Cruz, accompanied by an interpreter, through whose means, according to his usual plan, he was engaged in communicating with the natives, when, after a conference with some who appeared to have no hostile intentions, as he was in the act of stepping into his boat, a savage, a few yards off, shot a poisoned arrow, which struck him in the side. The example thus set was followed by the other natives, and several of the British were wounded. The boats immediately returned to the ship, but, notwithstanding the efforts of the surgeons to counteract the effects of the poison, the commodore felt that death was approaching. His great anxiety during the following days of intense suffering was to impress the principles by which he had been guided on those serving under him. As he lay in his cabin and his last hours were passing, not a murmur escaped his lips. The only regret he expressed was that he had not strength enough to praise God sufficiently for all His mercies. "The day before his death, believing that he would not live out the night, he had all his officers summoned to his bedside," writes his chaplain, "where, in lovely and loving words, he spoke of the truth and the infinite love of God, and the readiness he felt to go. He had a word for each--a word of love--as, at his request, each kissed him and said good-bye. He then caused himself to be carried on to the quarter-deck and placed on a bed there, the ship's company being assembled to hear his last words to them. He earnestly desired that no revenge should be taken on the natives of Santa Cruz. In these last words to the men he spoke to this effect: `We cannot tell their reason, perhaps they had been injured by white people, but we cannot communicate with them, not knowing their language; perhaps some day, it may be twenty or thirty