My time flew very rapidly and pleasantly away for two or three years, until, like most children, I began to sigh for deliverance from the restraints of home. I had already left school, and for some time, being now about thirteen years of age, had been employed in the pleasure-grounds of Blenheim Palace. This, however, was too tame a business for a lad of my spirits. I had heard tales of the sea from my cousins; my mother had filled my mind with the exploits of my grandfather; my imagination painted a life on the great deep in the most glowing colors; my mind grew uneasy; every day, my ordinary pursuits became more and more irksome, and I was continually talking about going to sea; indeed, I had made myself unhappy by being so discontented. Little do lads and young men know of the difference between the comfort of a parent’s roof and the indifference, unkindness, and trouble they invariably experience, who go out into the world, until they have made the experiment. They paint everything in bright colors; they fancy the future to be all sunshine, all sweets, all flowers, but are sure to be wofully disappointed, when once away from the fireside of their infancy. Let me advise young people, if they wish to escape hardships, to be contented, to remain quietly at home, abiding the openings of Providence, obeying the wishes of their parents, who not only have their best good at heart, but, however they may think to the contrary, actually know what is most for their advantage. My passion for a seaman’s life was not a little increased by a soldier, who was sergeant to a company in Lord Francis Spencer’s regiment of cavalry. Seated by my father’s hearth-side, this old soldier, who had once been a sailor, would beguile many an evening hour with his endless tale, while I sat listening in enrapt attention. My mother, too, heedlessly fanned the flame by her descriptions of the noble appearance of the ships she had seen when at Brighton. Besides this, a footman at Blenheim House used to sing a song called “the poor little sailor boy;” which, although somewhat gloomy in its descriptions, only served to heighten the flame of desire within me, until I could think of nothing else, day or night, but of going to sea. Finding my desires so strong, my kind-hearted mother mentioned them to Lady Spencer. Just at that time, her brother, Lord William Fitzroy, who was then expecting the command of a frigate, and with whom my departed father had lived as valet, happened to visit Blenheim, previously to going to sea. Anxious to serve my mother, Lady Spencer mentioned me to Lord Fitzroy. He sent for me. Trembling in every joint, I was ushered into his presence. He inquired if I should like to go to sea. “Yes, my lord, I should,” was my ready answer. He dismissed me, after some further questionings; but was heard to say, before he left, that he would take me under his care, and see to my future advancement.