eral lines
from the first pages of Milton's Paradise Lost, which he had learnt of
his own accord,--a foretaste of the gratification which he derived
through life in reading that noble poem. His mother was so delighted
with this unexpected discovery of his taste, that she could not
forbear making it known to her friends; especially to a literary
gentleman of her acquaintance, who sent young Saumarez a present of
the Golden Verses of Pythagoras, which he also committed to memory,
and retained throughout his life.

But the great sensibility of his heart was most apparent in his
attachment to all his relations: their pleasures and their pains were
always _his_; and it is therefore not surprising that he was a
favourite with them all. In those days, Guernsey was, as it were, a
large family; and the society of the upper classes was linked in a
small, but a select and happy, circle, interested in each other's
welfare. The communication with England not being, as now, kept up by
regular packets, the arrival of a stranger was an event of some
importance, and mostly occurred through the visits of the king's ships
going on foreign stations, which put into Guernsey for wines and
other stores: on these occasions the captains and officers were
constant guests at the hospitable mansion of our hero's father, and it
was usually the province of young Saumarez to look out for and report
their appearance.

In July 1767, this little community was surprised by an occurrence
which to this day is related among the events of "olden times," as
having made a great, and certainly a lasting impression. His royal
highness the Duke of Gloucester, on his return from a tour in France,
anchored in Guernsey roads. At two in the morning, the hostess of the
only inn in the town was awakened by a call that the Duke of
Gloucester had landed, and was coming there: not supposing this
possible, she for a long time refused to rise; but, being at
length convinced, she directed the party to the house of the
lieutenant-governor, who was as incredulous as the good woman of the
Ship Inn.

At last he appeared at the window in his dressing-gown and _bonnet de
nuit_, and finding whom he was called upon to receive, he exclaimed,
in the trepidation of the moment,--"My house is not fit for the duke;
go to my friend, Doctor Saumarez." There at last his royal highness
found entrance, and a hearty welcome; but it may be conjectured that
no little surprise and bustle spre