they ought to be tickled to death at the idea of having him present."

The Bostonians were proud to claim him as a compatriot through his
mother, and a nautical drama from his pen--_The Ocean Wolf, or the
Channel Outlaw_--was performed at New York with acclamation. He had some
squabbles with American publishers concerning copyright, and was clever
enough to secure two thousand two hundred and fifty dollars from Messrs
Carey & Hart for his forthcoming _Diary in America_ and _The Phantom
Ship,_ which latter first appeared in the _New Monthly,_ 1837 and 1838.
He evidently pleased the Americans on the whole, and was not
unfavourably impressed by what he saw, but the six volumes which he
produced on his return are only respectable specimens of bookmaking, and
do not repay perusal. It was, indeed, his own opinion that he had
already written enough. "If I were not rather in want of money," he says
in a letter to his mother, "I certainly would not write any more, for I
am rather tired of it. I should like to disengage myself from the
fraternity of authors, and be known in future only in my profession as a
good officer and seaman." He had hoped to see some service in Canada,
but the opportunity never came.

In England, to which he returned in 1839, the want of money soon came to
be felt more seriously. His father's fortune had been invested in the
West Indies, and began to show diminishing returns. For this and other
reasons he led a very wandering existence, for another four or five
years, until 1843. A year at 8 Duke Street, St James, was followed by a
short stay with his mother at Wimbledon House, from which he took
chambers at 120 Piccadilly, and then again moved to Spanish Place,
Manchester Square. Apparently at this time he made an unsuccessful
attempt to return to active service. He was meanwhile working hard at
_Poor Jack, Masterman Ready, The Poacher, Percival Keene,_ etc., and