The best-known of these log-writers is Charles Clerke.  Though only a youngster, he had seen much service.  When the Seven Years’ War in 1756 broke out, he was, at fifteen years of age, serving on a man-of-war.  He was on the Bellona in her celebrated engagement with the Courageux, off Vigo, in 1761, and he accompanied Byron in the Dolphin, afterwards serving in America, where it is probable Cook first met him.  Consequent on the many deaths, Clerke was made third lieutenant of the Endeavour after the ship left Batavia, and Cook, referring to his appointment, wrote to the Admiralty that Clerke was a young man well worthy of the step.  He again served with Cook as second lieutenant of the Resolution, and in Cook’s third voyage he was captain of the Discovery and second in command of the expedition.  When Cook was killed on February 14th, 1779, he took charge, but only survived his superior until the 22nd of August.  He died off the Kamschatka coast, and was buried at the harbour of St. Peter and St. Paul.  His shipmates erected a board with an inscription upon it over his grave; and La Perouse, when in 1787 he visited the spot, caused the board to be replaced by a copper plate, on which the inscription was re-engraved.

In a volume of the New South Wales Records is printed for the first time a batch of letters from Clerke to Sir Joseph Banks, and these documents so well depict poor Clerke’s cheery disposition, notwithstanding that he was suffering from a fear of the King’s Bench, and, what was more serious, the sad disease which ended in his death, that we may be pardoned for reproducing extracts from them.  The first was written just before Clerke sailed with Cook on that fatal third voyage as commander of the Discovery:—­

“DEAR SIR,—­I am very sorry to inform you that I am fairly cast away.  The damnation Bench of Justices fell out among themselves, upset and fairly frustrated the friendly intentions of Sir Fletcher Norton, &c., wrote a rascally letter, hoping that I would not find any inconvenience from it, and put off the adjournment to Monday se’nnight.  Now, you know, this is quite beyond our reach; it seems the whole legends of the Bench do not furnish such another incident.  Indeed, there’s a fatality attends my every undertaking; those people whom I most honour and esteem, that favour me with the name of friend—­to them I become a trouble and burthen.  However, though we cannot help misfortunes, we can help deserving them, and I am determined that want of gratitude and attention shall never be an accusation against me; therefore I’m resolved to decamp without beat of drum and, if I can, outsail the Israelites, get to sea, and make every return in my power.  I think I had better write to Lord Sandwich to thank him, as I cannot now wait upon him—­for my visitations must be very private—­and ask him if he has any orders for me.  Do tell me what I must do on that head, and if you would have me wait on you ere I depart, &c., &c., and believe me in prosperity or adversity.

    “Yours, &c.,