[Footnote: In his Autobiography Lord Dundonald asserts that he was
only once obliged to resort to pressing--a statement so remarkable,
considering the times he lived in, as to call for explanation. The
occasion was when, returning from a year's "exile in a tub," a
converted collier that "sailed like a hay-stack," he fitted out the
_Pallas_ at Portsmouth and could obtain no volunteers. Setting
his gangs to work, he got together a scratch crew of the wretchedest
description; yet so marvellous were the personality and disciplinary
ability of the man, that with only this unpromising material ready to
his hand he intercepted the Spanish trade off Cape Finisterre and
captured four successive prizes of very great value. The _Pallas_
returned to Portsmouth with "three large golden candlesticks, each
about five feet high, placed upon the mast-heads," and from that time
onward Dundonald's reputation as a "lucky" commander was made. He
never again had occasion to invoke the aid of the gang.] Under such
men the seaman would gladly serve "even in a dung barge." [Footnote:
_Admiralty Records_ 1. 2733--Capt. Young, 28 Sept. 1776.]
Unhappily for the service, such commanders were comparatively few, and
in their absence the Infernal System drained the Navy of its best
blood and accentuated a hundred-fold the already overwhelming need for
the impress.

The old-time sailor, [Footnote: The use of the word "sailor" was long
regarded with disfavour by the Navy Board, who saw in it only a
colourless substitute for the good old terms "seaman" and "mariner."
Capt. Bertie, of the _Ruby_ gunship, once reported the pressing
of a "sailor," Thomas Letting by name, out of a collier in Yarmouth
Roads, and was called upon by My Lords to define the new-fangled term.
This he did with admirable circumlocution. "As for explaining the word
'sailor,'" said he, "I can doe it no otherwise than (by) letting of