On Board the Denmark Hill.… I have just descended from the deck where I watched the ‘lessening’ boat. They are all gone, and here I sit without one whose care I have any right to ask.

What a large party attended my embarkation! A. Frankland, Captain Lyons, Mr. Saunders, Thompson, Dr. Hart—but 'tis vain repeating names. How very kind were they all, and I shall meet them no more.

Beautiful Isle of France, farewell! How ever lovely is the receding shore, eternal in its beauty, imperishable in its poetic interest, girded in by that bluest sea, now so calm and mirror-like. How different was its aspect when I watched its billows during the hurricane, when fear had assembled us in the saloon in Government House. It sleeps now, as calm as on that morning when I saw Fenton standing on the deck of the Mary—perhaps just where I am now. May I look upon that tempest and this placid sea as encouraging and emblematic of the progress of events with myself? Are my trials past? May I innocently thus expound the future? For even with the discomfort of the wretched ship, how comparatively strong and happy do I feel, and if there is something to risk, so will there be more to look in thankfulness to Heaven for when the voyage is over.