He had, meanwhile, been contributing to The Metropolitan Magazine, which he edited from 1832 to 1835, finally selling his proprietary rights to Saunders and Otley for £1050. His editorial work was arduous, and many of his own compositions were first published in The Metropolitan. Here appeared Newton Forster, 1832, Peter Simple, 1833, Jacob Faithful, Midshipman Easy, and Japhet in search of a Father(!) 1834, besides a comedy in three acts, entitled The Gipsy, a tragedy called The Cavalier of Seville, and the miscellaneous papers afterwards collected under the title, Olla Podrida.
In 1833 he stood, as a reformer, for Tower Hamlets, but his methods of canvassing were imprudent. He dwelt upon his own hobbies, and disregarded those of the electors. He apparently expected to carry the day by opposing the pressgang in a time of peace, and even permitted himself to repudiate philanthropy towards the African negro. The gallantry with which, on one occasion, he saved the lives of his audience when the floor of the room had fallen in, was not permitted to cover the rash energy of his reply to a persistent questioner:—"If ever you, or one of your sons, should come under my command at sea and deserve punishment, if there be no other effectual mode of conferring it, I shall flog you." It is hardly necessary to add that he lost the election.
He afterwards failed in a plan for the establishment of brevet rank in the army, but gave some valuable assistance in the preparation of the Merchant Shipping Bill of 1834.
It was about this time that Marryat is currently reported to have challenged F.D. Maurice to a duel. The latter had published an anonymous novel, called Eustace Conway, in which "a prominent character, represented in no amiable colours, bore the name of Captain Marryat." The truth of the story seems to be that the Captain went in hot wrath to Bentley, and demanded an apology or a statement that the coincidence was unintentional. Maurice replied, through his publisher, that he had never heard of Captain Marryat. It may be questioned whether the apology was not more galling than the original offence.
In 1834 some legal difficulties arose in connection with his father's memory, which Marryat accepted with admirable philosophy:—
"As for the Chancellor's judgment," he told his mother, "I cannot say that I thought anything about it, on the contrary, it appears to me that he might have been much more severe if he had thought proper. It is easy to impute motives, and difficult to disprove them. I thought, considering his enmity, that he let us off cheap; as there is no punishing a chancellor, and he might say what he pleased with impunity. I did not therefore roar, I only smiled. The effect will be nugatory. Not one in a thousand will read it; those who do, know it refers to a person not in this world; and of those, those who knew my father will not believe it, those who did not will care little about it, and forget the name in a week. Had he given the decision in our favour, I should have been better pleased, but it's no use crying; what's done can't be helped."
This letter was written from Brighton, and the following year found Marryat on the Continent, at home in a circle of gay spirits who might almost be called the outcasts of English society. They were pleasure-seekers, by no means necessarily depraved but, by narrow incomes or other causes, driven into a cheerful exile. The captain was always ready to give and take in the matter of entertainment, and he was invited everywhere though, on one occasion at least, it is recorded that he proved an uncongenial guest. Having dined, as a recognised lion among lions, he "didn't make a single joke during the whole evening." His host remarked on his silence the next morning, and Marryat replied:—
"Oh, if that's what you wanted you should have asked me when you were alone. Why, did you imagine I was going to let out any of my jokes for those fellows to put in their next books? No, that is not my plan. When I find myself in such company as that I open my ears and hold my tongue, glean all I can, and give them nothing in return."
He did not always, however, play the professional author so offensively, and we hear of his taking part in private theatricals and dances, preparing a Christmas tree for the children, and cleverly packing his friends' portmanteaux.
Meanwhile, he was writing The Pirate and Three Cutters, for which he received £750, as well as Snarley-yow and the Pacha of many Tales. He had been contributing to the Metropolitan at 15 guineas a sheet, until he paid a flying visit to England in 1836 in order to transfer his allegiance to the New Monthly Magazine, from which he secured 20 guineas. Mrs Lean states that her father received £1100 each for Peter Simple, Jacob Faithful, Japhet, and The Pacha of many Tales; £1200 for Midshipman Easy, £1300 for Snarley-yow, and £1600 for the Diary in America. Yet "although Captain Marryat and his publishers mutually benefited by their transactions with each other, one would have imagined, from the letters exchanged between them, that they had been natural enemies." She relates how one of the fraternity told Marryat he was "somewhat eccentric—an odd creature," and added, "I am somewhat warm-tempered myself, and therefore make allowance for yours, which is certainly warm enough."