I took good care, however, to let none of these unworthy doubts and alarms find any expression in word or in look; and, with a heart almost bursting, I took leave of the holyday scenes of the country I had loved so well, and which, to my young fancy, appeared the most beautiful spot on earth,—a judgment which, as I before observed, a tolerably extensive acquaintance with the rest of the world has only tended to confirm. Of course, I had a regular interview and leave-taking with my capital friends the fishermen, whom I had long held to be the best-informed persons of my acquaintance, merely because they knew most about ropes and ship matters generally. I cannot say that these worthy mariners stood the test of after-communication, quite so well as the romantic coast-scenery near which they resided. I remember, on returning from my first voyage, going down to the beach, in my uniform jacket, and in no very modest spirit, to shew off my superior nautical attainments to these poor fellows, who had been sticking fast to their rocks during the interval, much after the fashion of their own shell-fish. Their reception, of course, was highly flattering; but their confined views of the profession, and scanty knowledge of many of its details, made me look back with wonder to the time when I had hailed them as first-rate masters in the noble art of seamanship. On the 16th of May, 1802, I left home; and next day my father said to me, “Now you are fairly afloat in the world, you must begin to write a journal;” and, suiting the action to the word, he put a blank book into one hand, and a pen into the other, with a hint for me to proceed at once to business. The following is a fair specimen of the result, which I certainly little imagined was ever destined to attain the honour of being printed:— “_May 17._—Journey to London.—Left Dunglass. Breakfasted at the Press Inn, and changed horses. Got to Belford; changed horses. Alnwick—dined there, and got to Morpeth, where we slept. Up early; breakfasted at Newcastle. Stopped at Durham. Walked forward till the chaise should overtake us; got into the chaise. Stopped to give the horses some drink. Saw two deep draw-wells. Observed some coal-carts at Newcastle coal-pits. The wheels are so constructed, that they run down-hill upon things in the road, which are made for the purpose. The horse follows the cart, to draw it up the hill, after it has emptied the load.”