, and what
had brought her home. The fact was, that in my sudden determination to
return to England, I had spared myself the trouble of writing to make
known my intentions; and, indeed, if I had written, I should have
arrived as soon as my letter, unless (which I ought to have done) I
had written on my arrival at Portsmouth, instead of throwing away my
time in the very worst species of dissipation. Unable, therefore, in
the presence of many witnesses, to give my father that explanation
which he had a right to expect, I suffered greatly for a time in his
opinion. He very naturally supposed that some disgraceful conduct on
my part was the cause of my sudden return. His brow became clouded and
his mind seemed occupied with deep reflection.

This behaviour of my father, together with the continued noisy mirth
of my brother and sisters, gave me considerable pain. I felt as if,
in the sad news of my mother's death, I had over-acted my part in the
feeling I had shown, and the sacrifice I had made in quitting my ship.
On explaining to my father, in private, the motives of my conduct, I
was not successful. He could not believe that my mother's death was
the sole cause of my return to England. I stood many firm and angry
interrogations as to the possible good which could accrue to me by
quitting my ship. I showed him the captain's handsome certificate,
which only mortified him the more. In vain did I plead my excess
of feeling. He replied with an argument that I feel to have been
unanswerable--that I had quitted my ship when on the very pinnacle of
favour, and in the road to fortune. "And what," said he, "is to become
of the navy and the country, if every officer is to return home when
he receives the news of the death of a relation?"

In proportion as my father's arguments carried conviction, they did
away, at the same time, all the good impressions of my mother's dying
injunction. If her death was a matter of so little importance, her
last words were equally so; and from that moment I ceased to think of
either. My father's treatment of me was now very different from what
it had ever been during my mother's lifetime. My requests were
harshly refused, and I was lectured more as a child than as a lad of
_eighteen_, who had seen much of the world.

Coldness on his part was met by a spirit of resistance on mine. Pride
came in to my assistance. A dispute arose one evening, at the finale
of which I gave him to understand that if I