154 MEMOIR OF DR. HARVEY. 



that you shall gather such Aspl. marinum as you never have 

 seen, even in dreams — so long, so darkly green. 



I am sure Mrs. Ward will join me in urging you to come, as 

 she knows how much you want a mouthful of sea-breezes, and how 

 greatly you would enjoy as well as benefit physically from such 

 a trip. Surely you can get away if you only try. I remember 

 your once saying that when you were fifty you would go to the 

 West Indies. Meantime come thus far on your route. If we 

 cannot give you palm-groves we must make it up in Arbutus. 



I propose Causeway, Londonderry, down west coast to Con- 

 nemara, Clare, Limerick, Killarney, Cork, where you take 

 shipping for Plymouth, Torquay, Southampton, London, all in 

 a month or six weeks. My kind regards to Mrs. Ward, who will 

 stand my friend, I trust, in the present matter. 



Ever yours. 



To the Same. 

 Yacht Charm, off Cantire, June, G, 1846. 

 Here I am, very much to my own surprise, and probably 

 as much to yours. The day before yesterday, at two o'clock p.m., 

 a friend called on me and offered me a trip in his yacht to the 

 Western Islands, Shetlands, and possibly Iceland or Norway, 

 weather permitting, if I could be ready to start at six that 

 evening. I had much to do ; first to prepare the July copy of 

 the " Phycologia," then to ask liberty from the Board, then to 

 pack up. The offer was so tempting that I made the push. 

 We sailed at seven that evening, and here we are now going in 

 for a Western pilot. From this we go through the sound of 

 Islay and push on northward, landing at such of the Western 

 Islands as we take a fancy to, and hope ere long to see John 

 O'Groat and the Ultima Thule beyond him. 



Have I not used you most abominably after my letter written 

 but a day or two ago ? But the chances of your coming were so 

 slender, and the opportunity one that might never offer again, that 

 I thought " the tide in my affairs should be taken at the flood." 



To Mr. Ball, when off Islay, he writes : — " I ran away last Thurs- 

 day on three hours' notice, and had no time to tell you or scarcely 

 any one else ; and 'where I am going I cannot imagine,' but woe 

 am I that ' in my hand ' I do not ' carry a broom.' We are 



