Ch. VI] 1831—1836. 133 



The conviction that I am walking in the New World is even 

 yet marvellous in my own eyes, and I daresay it is little less 

 so to you, the receiving a letter from a son of yours in such a 

 quarter. 



Believe me, my dear father, your most affectionate son. 



The Beagle letters give ample proof of his strong love of 

 home, and all connected with it, from his father down to 

 Nancy, his old nurse, to whom he sometimes sends his love. 



His delight in home-letters is shown in such passages as : — 

 " But if you knew the glowing, unspeakable delight, which I 

 felt at being certain that my father and all of you were well, 

 only four months ago, you would not grudge the labour lost in 

 keeping up the regular series of letters." 



" You would be surprised to know how entirely the pleasure 

 in arriving at a now place depends on letters." 



" I saw the other day a vessel sail for England ; it was quite 

 dangerous to know how easily I might turn deserter. As for 

 an English lady, I have almost forgotten what she is — some- 

 thing very angelic and good." 



" I havo just received a bundle more letters. I do not know 

 how to thank you all sufficiently. One from Catherine, Feb- 

 ruary 8th, another from Susan, March 3rd, together with notes 

 from Caroline and from my father ; give my best love to my 

 father. I almost cried for pleasure at receiving it ; it was very 

 kind thinking of writing to me. My letters are both few, short, 

 and stupid in return for all yours ; but I always ease my 

 conscience by considering the Journal as a long letter." 



Or again — his longing to return in words like these : — " It 

 is too delightful to think that I shall see the leaves fall and 

 hear the robin sing next autumn at Shrewsbury. My feelings 

 are those of a school-boy to the smallest point ; I doubt whether 

 ever boy longed for his holidays as much as I do to see you all 

 again. I am at present, although nearly half the world is 

 between me and home, beginning to arrange what I shall do, 

 where I shall go during the first week." 



" No schoolboys ever sung the half-sentimental and half- 

 jovial strain of * dulce domum ' with more fervour than we all 

 feel inclined to do. But the whole subject of * dulce domum,' 

 and the delight of seeing one's friends, is most dangerous, it 

 must infallibly make one very prosy or very boisterous. Oh, 

 the degree to which I long to be once again living quietly 

 with not one single novel object near me! No one can 

 imagine it till he has been whirled round the world during 

 five long years in a ten-gun brig." 



