Lieutenant Clerke to Mr. Banks (Banks Papers).

We're now past Portland, with a fine fresh N.W. gale and a young flood tide, so that in a very few hours we shall anchor at Spithead, from our continent-hunting expedition. I will not now set about relating any of the particulars of our voyage, as I hope page 117 very soon to have the honour and happiness of paying my personal respects, when I can give you a much clearer idea of any matters you think worth inquiring after than it's possible to do at this distance.

I hope I need not assure you that it's utterly out of the power of length of time, or distance of space, to eradicate, or in the least alleviate, the gratitude your friendly offices to me have created. I assure you I've devoted some days to your service in very distant parts of the globe, the result of which, I hope, will give you some satisfaction; at least, it will convince you of my intentions and endeavours in that particular. I shall send this away by our civil gentry, who will fly to town with all the sail they can possibly make. God bless you. Send me one line, just to tell me you are alive and well, if that is the case, for I'm as great a stranger to all matters in England as though I had been these three years underground. So, if I receive no intelligence from you I shall draw bad conclusions, and clap on my suit of black; but you know I never despair, but always look for the best, therefore hope and flatter myself this will find you alive and happy, which that it may is the sincerest hope and wish of, dear sir,

P.S.—Excuse the paper. We're terrible busy; you know a man-of-war. My respects and most social wishes to the good doctor. I'll write him as soon as possible.