The lack of stimulus to his mind from his surroundings at this time is also manifested by the fewness of his letters.  But thirty remain to show his occupation during the five years, and seventeen of these are purely official in character.  From the year 1791 no record survives.  His wife being with him, one line of correspondence was thereby closed; but even to his brother, and to his friend Locker, he finds nothing to write.  For the ordinary country amusements and pursuits of the English gentry he had scant liking; and, barring the occasional worry over his neglect by the Admiralty, there was little else to engage his attention.  The first few months after his release from the “Boreas” were spent in the West of England, chiefly at Bath, for the recovery of Mrs. Nelson’s health as well as his own; but toward the latter part of 1788 the young couple went to live with his father at the parsonage of Burnham Thorpe, and there made their home until he was again called into active service.  “It is extremely interesting,” say his biographers, “to contemplate this great man, when thus removed from the busy scenes in which he had borne so distinguished a part to the remote village of Burnham Thorpe;” but the interest seems by their account to be limited to the energy with which he dug in the garden, or, from sheer want of something to do, reverted to the bird-nesting of his boyhood.  His favorite amusement, we are told, was coursing, and he once shot a partridge; but his habit of carrying his gun at full cock, and firing as soon as a bird rose, without bringing the piece to his shoulder, made him a dangerous companion in a shooting-party.  His own account is somewhat different:  “Shoot I cannot, therefore I have not taken out a license; but notwithstanding the neglect I have met with I am happy;” and again, to his brother, he says:  “It was not my intention to have gone to the coursing meeting, for, to say the truth, I have rarely escaped a wet jacket and a violent cold; besides, to me, even the ride to the Smee is longer than any pleasure I find in the sport will compensate for.”  The fact is that Nelson cared for none of these things, and the only deduction of real interest from his letters at this time is the absolute failure of his home life and affections to content his aspirations,—­the emptiness both of mind and heart, which caused his passionate eagerness for external employment to fill the void.  Earnestness appears only when he is brooding over the slight with which he was treated, and the resultant thwarting of his career.  For both mind and heart the future held in store for him the most engrossing emotions, but it did not therefore bring him happiness.