212 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' yETAT. 22. [1831. 



there being a pleasant set of officers, and, as far as I can 

 judge, this is certain. On the other hand there is very con- 

 siderable risk to one's life and health, and the leaving for so 

 very long a time so many people whom I dearly love, is often- 

 times a feeling so painful that it requires all my resolution to 

 overcome it. But everything is now settled, and before the 

 2Oth of October I trust to be on the broad sea. My objection 

 to the vessel is its smallness, which cramps one so for room 

 for packing my own body and all my cases, &c. &c. As to its 

 safety, I hope the Admiralty are the best judges ; to a lands- 

 man's eye she looks very small. She is a ten-gun three- 

 masted brig, but, I believe, an excellent vessel. So much for 

 1 my future plans, and now for my present. I go to-night by 

 the mail to Cambridge, and from thence, after settling my 

 affairs, proceed to Shrewsbury (most likely on Friday 23rd, 

 or perhaps before) ; there I shall stay a few days, and be in 

 London by the 1st of October, and start for Plymouth on 

 the 9th. 



And now for the principal part of my letter. I do not 

 know how to tell . you how very kind I feel your offer of 

 coming to see me before I leave England. Indeed I should 

 like it very much ; but I must tell you decidedly that I shall 

 have very little time to spare, and that little time will be 

 almost spoilt by my having so much to think about ; and 

 secondly, I can hardly think it worth your while to leave your 

 parish for such a cause. But I shall never forget such 

 generous kindness. Now I know you will act just as you 

 think right ; but do not come up for my sake. Any time is 

 the same for me. I think from this letter you will know as 

 much of my plans as I do myself, and will judge accordingly 

 the where and when to write to me. Every now and then I 

 have moments of glorious enthusiasm, when I think of the 

 date and cocoa-trees, the palms and ferns so lofty and beauti- 

 ful, everything new, everything sublime. And if I live to see 

 years in after life, how grand must such recollections be ! Do 



