The Royal Navy has ever been the glory of our country, but there are spots even on the bright sun. The service has been presented hitherto almost entirely under its best aspects. Example after example of heroic bravery, unmurmuring endurance, and splendid discipline, have been cited. Nor can we err in painting it _couleur de rose_, for its gallant exploits have won it undying fame. But in the service at one time—thank God those times are hardly possible now—mutiny and desertion on a large scale were eventualities to be considered and dreaded; they were at least remote possibilities. In a few instances they became terrible facts. In the merchant service we still hear of painful examples: every reader will remember the case of the _Lennie_ mutineers, who murdered the captain and mates in the Bay of Biscay, with the object of selling the ship in Greece, and were defeated by the brave steward, who steered for the coast of France, and was eventually successful in communicating with the French authorities. The example about to be related is a matter of historical fact, from which the naval service in particular may still draw most important lessons. In the year 1787, being seventeen years after Captain Cook’s memorable first voyage, a number of merchants and planters resident in London memorialised his Majesty George III., that the introduction of the bread-fruit tree from the southern Pacific Islands would be of great benefit to the West Indies, and the king complied with their request. A small vessel, the _Bounty_, was prepared, the arrangements for disposing the plants being made by Sir Joseph Banks, long the distinguished President of the Royal Society, and one of the most eminent men of science of the day. Banks had been with Cook among these very islands; indeed, it is stated that in his zeal for acquiring knowledge, he had undergone the process of tattooing himself. The ship was put under the command of Lieutenant Bligh, with officers and crew numbering in all forty-four souls, to whom were added a practical botanist and assistant. The _Bounty_ sailed from Spithead on December 23rd, 1787 and soon encountered very severe weather, which obliged them to refit at Teneriffe. Terrible gales were experienced near Cape Horn, “storms of wind, with hail and sleet, which made it necessary to keep a constant fire night and day, and one of the watch always attended to dry the people’s wet clothes. This stormy weather continued for nine days; the ship required pumping every hour; the decks became so leaky that the commander was obliged to allot the great cabin to those who had wet berths to hang their hammocks in.”(124) It was at last determined, after vainly struggling for thirty days to make headway, to bear away for the Cape of Good Hope. The helm was accordingly put a-weather, to the great joy and satisfaction of all on board. [Illustration: THE CREW OF H.M.S. “BOUNTY” LANDING AT OTAHEITE.]