Many pleasant little anecdotes show how heartily the poorer classes appreciated both reform and reformer. Being, in 1853, on a tour in Scotland, my father one day employed a poor journeyman tailor of Dunoon to mend a torn coat. Somehow the old man found out who was its wearer, and no amount of persuasion would induce him to accept payment for the rent he so skilfully made good. A similar case occurred somewhat earlier, when we were staying at Beaumaris; while a “humble admirer” who gave no name wrote, a few years later than the presentation of the National Testimonial, to say that at the time he had been too poor to subscribe, but now sent a donation, which he begged my father to accept. His identity was never revealed. Another man wrote a letter of thanks from a distant colony, and not knowing the right address, inscribed the cover “To him who gave us all the Penny Post.” Even M. Grasset, when in a similar difficulty, directed his envelope from Paris to “Rowland Hill—where he is.” That these apologies for addresses can be reproduced is proof that the missives reached their destination.[236] It would be easy to add to these stories; their name is legion. Tributes like these touched my father even more deeply than the bestowal of public honours, although he also prized these as showing that his work was appreciated in all grades of life. Moreover, in those now far-off days, “honours” were bestowed more sparingly and with greater discrimination than later came to be the case; and merit was considered of more account than money-bags. Thus in 1860 Rowland Hill was made a K.C.B., the suggestion of that step being understood to lie with Lords Palmerston and Elgin (the then Postmaster-General), for the recipient had not been previously sounded, and the gift came as a surprise. After my father's retirement, the bestowal of honours recommenced, though he did _not_ assume the title of “Lord Queen's head,” as Mr Punch suggested he should do were a peerage offered to him—which was not at all likely to be done. At Oxford he received the honorary degree of D.C.L.,[237] and a little later was presented by the then Prince of Wales with the first Albert Gold Medal issued by the Society of Arts. The following year, when Rowland Hill was dining at Marlborough House, the Prince reminded him of the presentation. Upon which the guest told his host a little story which was news to H.R.H., and greatly amused him. The successive blows required for obtaining high relief on the medal had shattered the die before the work was completed. There was not time to make another die, as it was found impossible to postpone the ceremony. At the moment of presentation, however, the recipient only, and not the donor, was aware that it was an empty box which, with much interchange of compliments, passed from the royal hands into those of the commoner.