27th.—To dinner this day at the Cornish Arms, Portsmouth, the landlord of which always presides, and at table toasts Bonaparte, by saying aloud, "God bless Bonaparte, the man of the people, the Frenchman's hope, and the glory of the world!" Splendid portraits, too, hang in almost all parts of the house; and one in particular, in the drawing-room, must only be approached bareheaded and bowing. Mr. Cole is quite an original. At noon, a S. E. wind hurried us on board, to prepare for sea. Received a pilot.
28th.—Weighed anchor at five, and dropped into Cowes harbour at ten, a. m., having in view the beautiful hills of the Isle, adorned with castles and mansions. Spoke the ship Plato, from Baltimore to Bremen bound, and recently exposed to the worst gales and weather, and much damaged [8] on the banks of Newfoundland, where the crew were frost-bitten and lost their toes and fingers' ends.
29th.—Sailed at six this morning. Wind at S. E. Passed Yarmouth, Lymington, and Christ Church, in full view, and, at one, p. m., those sublime romantic rocks rising high out of the water, and therefore called the Needles. Here the pilot left us.
30th.—Now off Plymouth, but no land in view. Made, since yesterday, 130 miles. Felt possessed of more courage than when last at sea, or rather a sort of desperate, not pious, resignation. On leaving St. Aldhams head, yesterday, saw no more of poor old England. Peace to my dear native land!
31st.—In lat. 48°. Saw two Yankee brigs, for England bound. Rose at midnight, and beheld the pale moon illuminating the dark sea, which looked like an infinite lake of quicksilver.
To my sorrow is it known, that the captain finds his
