should have to work overmuch—especially at the beginning—and I am afraid of that. The consideration, therefore, that I am not to be charged with a class, or expected to deliver a regular course of lectures, removes a "sea of troubles," and leaves me in a field of research in which I am not altogether a "raw hand."
. . . . You certainly do draw a very bright picture of the work that is before me[1]—of the results that are expected from it, and of the success that is to attend my labours.
"We do not weigh in the same balance the force that I can bring to the work. Therefore, as bright as your picture is, I have my fears of what there may be on the other side. "Still, it's wise and brave to hope the best," and, bringing willing hearts and ready hands to the work, we'll try to rub even the dark side bright, should it be turned towards us.
I have some private matters to attend to, previous engagements and obligations to meet and satisfy, which may prevent my being with you in June.
Will not your field-parties lack instruments? If you, have the funds, had you not better make known your wants while I am here? Loseby—who Brooke will remember as my "crack" chronometer-maker—has invented a pocket-barometer that will give you orographic features, as you ride about the country, with much nicety. With it you can read difference of level by the way as you read time from the face of your watch. A dozen of these barometers—say at $12 each—would be invaluable.
M. F. Maury.
Maury bade a reluctant farewell to many warm friends whom his talents and misfortunes had drawn around him. He took the steamer at Liverpool with his family, and arrived at New York early in July 1868; but his house at Lexington was not ready for him until the beginning of the following year. He went to Richmond in August, and thence,
- ↑ Physical Survey (and Report) of Virginia.
