Seven or eight months were past in an expensive and fruitless attendance in London, when Lord Halifax was pleased, not only to propose, but to plan for me a journey of considerable importance, and which was to take up several years. His Lordship said, that nothing could be more ignoble, than that, at such a time of life, at the height of my reading, health, and activity, I should, as it were, turn peasant, and voluntarily bury myself in obscurity and idleness; that though war was now drawing fast to an end, full as honourable a competition remained among men of spirit, which should acquit themselves best in the dangerous line of useful adventure and discovery. “He observed, that the coast of Barbary, which might be said to be just at our door, was as yet but partially explored by Dr Shaw, who had only illustrated (very judiciously indeed) the geographical labours of Sanson[2]; that neither Dr Shaw nor Sanson had been, or had pretended to be, capable of giving the public any detail of the large and magnificent remains of ruined architecture which they both vouch to have seen in great quantities, and of exquisite elegance and perfection, all over the country. Such had not been their study, yet such was really the taste that was required in the present times. He wished therefore that I should be the first, in the reign just now beginning, to set an example of making large additions to the royal collection, and he pledged himself to be my supporter and patron, and to make good to me, upon this additional merit, the promises which had been held forth to me by former ministers for other services.” The discovery of the Source of the Nile was also a subject of these conversations, but it was always mentioned to me with a kind of diffidence, as if to be expected from a more experienced traveller. Whether this was but another way of exciting me to the attempt I shall not say; but my heart in that instant did me justice to suggest, that this, too, was either to be atchieved by me, or to remain, as it had done for these last two thousand years, a defiance to all travellers, and an opprobrium to geography. Fortune seemed to enter into this scheme. At the very instant, Mr Aspinwall, very cruelly and ignominiously treated by the Dey of Algiers, had resigned his consulship, and Mr Ford, a merchant, formerly the Dey’s acquaintance, was named in his place. Mr Ford was appointed, and dying a few days after, the consulship became vacant. Lord Halifax pressed me to accept of this, as containing all sort of conveniencies for making the proposed expedition.