To resume this story in the order of events.  Mr. Gales went on with his journal, and when it had grown quite flourishing, he added to his printing-office the inviting appendage of a book-store, which also flourished.  In the progress of both, it became necessary that he should employ a clerk.  Among the applicants brought to him by an advertisement of what he needed, there presented himself an unfriended youth, with whose intelligence, modesty, and other signs of the future man within, he was so pleased that he at once took him into his employment,—­at first, merely to keep his accounts,—­but, by degrees, for superior things,—­until, progressively, he (the youth) matured into his assistant editor, his dearest friend, and finally his successor in the journal.  That youth was James Montgomery, the poet.

On the 10th of April, 1786, Mrs. Gales gave birth, at Eckington, their rural home, to her first child, Joseph, the present chief of the “Intelligencer.” [Mr. Gales has since died.] Happy at home, the young mother could as delightedly look without.  The business of her husband throve apace; nor less the general regard and esteem in which he was personally held.  He grew continually in the confidence and affection of his fellow-citizens; endearing himself especially, by his sober counsels and his quiet charities, to all that industrious class who knew him as one of their own, and could look up without reluctance to a superiority which was only the unpretending one of goodness and sense.  Over them, without seeking it, he gradually obtained an extraordinary ascendancy, of which the following is a single instance.  Upon some occasion of wages or want among the working-people of Sheffield, a great popular commotion had burst out, attended by a huge mob and riot, which the magistracy strove in vain to appease or quell.  When all else had failed, Mr. Gales bethought him of trying what he could do.  Driven into the thick of the crowd, in an open carriage, he suddenly appeared amongst the rioters, and, by a few plain words of remonstrance, convinced them that they could only hurt themselves by overturning the laws, that they should seek other modes of redress, and meantime had all better go home.  They agreed to do so,—­but with the condition annexed, that they should first see him home.  Whereupon, loosening the horses from the carriage, they drew him, with loud acclamations, back to his house.

Such were his prospects and position for some seven years after his marriage, when, of a sudden, without any fault of his own, he was made answerable for a fact that rendered it necessary for him to flee beyond the realm of Great Britain.