angrily at the young monks. And at last one of the most courteous
and demure of the number, coming forward, said that although theirs
was not exactly a public-house, still the stranger was heartily
welcome to walk in, rest, and refresh himself. Discovering his
mistake, Jackson of course lost no time in making his bow, his
apologies, and acknowledgments.

He returned to England by way of France, having but six sous in his
pockets when he reached Bordeaux, where an English merchant, a total
stranger, advanced him a few pounds. On the road, he was frequently
taken for an Irishman, and not seldom for an Irish priest; under
which impression, many civilities were paid him by the simple
inhabitants of the country he traversed. Ultimately he landed at
Southampton, with just four shillings in his possession; his once
black coat having turned a rusty brown, his hat shovel-shaped by
ill-usage, and his whole aspect so comical, that the mob hooted him,
under the belief that he was a Methodist preacher. Proceeding inland
on foot, in the direction of Southampton, he overtook a poor man
walking along the road whose looks of unutterable misery induced our
traveller to stop and inquire what ailed him. He told Jackson he had
a son and daughter dying of a disorder apparently contagious, and
that no physician would attend them, as he was too poor to pay the
fees. Jackson at once offered his services, which were gratefully
accepted. He saw his patients, and prescribed for them, and his
heart was touched by their simple expressions of gratitude. 'Their
thankfulness,' he says, 'for a thing that would perhaps do them no
good, gave me more pleasure than a fee of, I believe, twenty
guineas, much in need of it as I was.' The night had gathered in
before he reached Winchester, where, at a respectable inn, he
partook of such refreshment as his means afforded, and then desired