“My lovely Ailie, you are constantly in my thoughts. I am tired of this place, but cannot lose the present opportunity of doing something for our advantage. When that is accomplished I shall not lose one moment. My darling, when we meet I shall be the happiest man on earth. Write soon, for I count the days till I hear from you, my lovely Ailie.”
Again the negotiations with the Government fell through, and there was nothing for it but for Park to return once more to Foulshiels disappointed and discouraged, but possessed more than ever by the fever of unrest--more and more under the influence of the Niger magnet--against which the sole counteracting forces were love for his wife, the dread of being separated from her, and his duty as a husband.
It was in this not very suitable mood that he was forced to face the fact that he must no longer depend on the vague hope of finding a congenial opening, but must put his hand to something, however alien to his tastes and aspirations. For a time he thought of taking a farm, but at last reluctantly came to the conclusion that his best course would be to resume his profession as a doctor. An opening presented itself in the neighbouring town of Peebles, where he went to reside in the month of October, occupying a house at the head of the Brygate, while his surgery was a small projecting building--since demolished--east from the first Chambers’ Institute. In a lane behind was his humble laboratory.
I had a letter from Adam on Monday-last but I suppose by this time he has sailed for India.
My compl. to all friends and I remain my lovely Ailie yours ever
P.S. write soon for I count the days until your answer comes
EXTRACT OF MUNGO PARK’S LETTER TO HIS WIFE.]
Park threw himself into his work with characteristic energy and thoroughness, and speedily won for himself a fair share of the practice of the town and country. The profits, however, were of the poorest, and the work of the hardest--so much so, indeed, that he once said to Scott he “would rather brave Africa and all its horrors than wear out his life in long and toilsome rides over cold and lonely heaths and gloomy hills, assailed by the wintry tempest, for which the remuneration was hardly enough to keep soul and body together.”