'December 13.--Left the ship in the cutter, in company with Signor Capogropo and Mons. Corporal. Landed at Celivez, a surf on the beach, all got wet, it was _sauve qui peut_ and we left our cloaks behind us, which to people on the point of bivouacking for the night was not really pleasant. But Signor Capogropo, though eighty-two years of age, seemed to make so light of the matter that it was out of the question to complain. Here we found horses sent for us to the camp, where I arrived about ten o'clock having passed through a rich and beautiful country to the village which, like all in Candia, gives a good idea of the ravages of civil war. Here I found the Pacha and Osman Bey had established their head-quarters. I was treated like a Pacha, boys attended to wait on me with pipes, coffee, a barber, &c. I made my toilet in the morning attended by seven or eight servants. Nothing can be better than the manner in which these chiefs are conducting affairs in this country. 'June 2, 1831.--Left Malta for England, left my ship in Malta harbour in the hands of new officers. Poor _Alligator_, I did not know I had so much of the love of ships, no not ships, I knew that, but of men, in me. I could have kissed every man jack of them to death--and have cried over every blue jacket on parting, and my dear Mids, they I believed were surprised; they did not think I cared so much about them till I took leave of them. 'My loss is great. God's Will be done. God only knows whether I shall return to my ship again, but I think I have love enough for her to make it no difficult task on my part. 'Nine o'clock at night, blowing strong from the N.W. course in the dirtiest steamboat I ever was in, nevertheless she wears a pendant. 'June 23.--Foul wind--cold dark day--making little progress, that is 100 miles a day. What a change in seamen's distances, 100 miles a day, right in the wind's eye, and call that doing ill. What would Benbow say if one could tell him that? I will tell you, "You lubberly dog, you lie." 'Nevertheless I go fast towards home or--God knows what! What part in the play am I to act, I wish my mind was made up on this cursed Reform question. It will be carried, but I should like to do what I think right and honourable towards myself, that is act and vote as I really think. We must become republican England as well as republican France (damn France, she is the root of all evil and the branch of no good). It matters little how; whether by Reform which will produce national bankruptcy, or by a starving population which will produce rebellion and civil war. Reform certainly means No taxes and cheap bread. Have been reading Moore's Byron. Poor Byron, quite what I believe him to be in many things and more than I believe him to be in others. I saw him at Missolonghi.