hearing by to-morrow's post that he has run down to Portsmouth to
see Walter before he sails on a cruise with the Squadron, which I
believe he was to do to-day. But I should think they would hardly
leave Port in such dirty weather, when the wind howls and the rain
pours, and the whole atmosphere is thick and lowering as I suppose
you rarely or never see it in New Zealand. I wish the more that
Matt may get down to Spithead, because the poor little man has been
in a great ferment about leaving his Ship and going into a smaller
one. By the same post I had a letter from him, and from Captain
Daws, who had been astonished and grieved by Walter's coming to him
and telling him he wished to leave the ship. It was evident that
Captain D. was quite distressed about it.

She then discusses, very shrewdly and quietly, the reasons for her boy's
restlessness, and how best to meet it. The letter goes on:

Certainly there is great comfort in having him with so true and good
a friend as Captain D. and I could not feel justified in acting
against his counsel. But as he gets to know Walter better, I think
it very likely that he will himself think it better for him to be in
some ship not so likely to stay about in harbor as the _St. Vincent_;
and will judge that with a character like his it might be better for
him to be on some more distant stations.

I write about all this as coolly as if he were not my own dear
youngest born, the little dear son whom I have so cherished, and who
was almost a nursling still, when the bond which kept us all together
was broken. But I believe I do truly feel that if my beloved sons are
good and worthy of the name they bear, are in fact true, earnest,
Christian men, I have no wish left for them--no selfish longings