WHEN I left Quebec about the middle of January, last year, for the purpose of revisiting Europe, and subsequently prosecuting my wanderings eastward, no idea could be more remote from my mind than that of publishing an account of my proceedings.

A trip to the eastern shores of the Mediterranean, and to view those sacred and time-hallowed scenes, where so many events of deep interest have occurred blended with the destinies of mankind, had formed, from early years, one of the most warmly-cherished wishes of my heart; and it was with no slight degree of satisfaction that I found myself enabled to gratify this desire.

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It has been already hinted, in the dedication, that one, in fact, nearly the sole motive for the publication of these few pages, is to set before others the comparative ease and moderate expenditure, with which a trip to the East may be accomplished; and to induce, perhaps, many in these Provinces to take advantage of any similar period of leisure. The following hasty sketches have, therefore, been reproduced at the suggestion of several of my friends, who expressed themselves gratified by the perusal of the original correspondence, addressed to members of my own family.

These notes of travel, issuing from a Canadian press, are more especially intended for circulation in these Provinces; an indulgent reception may, therefore, be reasonably anticipated from the Canadian public, inasmuch as I write as a Canadian, in the hope of encouraging others of my fellow-countrymen to follow my example in visiting the same interesting portion of the world. Such an undertaking can hardly be carried out, in the most indifferent manner, without opening the mind and enlarging our estimate of the advantages of liberal government and constitutional polity. By such a tour, souvenirs of undying interest may be awakened in the heart, and extend an important influence over the future course of the traveller; for I certainly realized the saying of the

Hebrew monarch, according to the motto placed on the title-page, "The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul."

In the month of January, I proceeded by railway from Quebec to Portland, attended by my two daughters, and accompanied, as far as the latter place, by my son and his wife, and my kind friend, Colonel Rhodes. We embarked on board the ocean steamship "Hungarian," one of the most powerful and excellent of the Canadian Line; and the voyage, on which we entered, was fated to be the last she made in safety.

Voyages from the American continent to England during winter are generally very rapid; north and north-westerly winds usually prevail and blow in frequent gales. I have repeatedly crossed the Atlantic in December and January, but I do not remember having ever experienced such terrific weather as on 'this voyage. When we approached the Irish coast, the north-wester, which had been driving us so fiercely as to prevent a stitch of canvas being shewn, compelled us to lay to; for, although under very little steam, we were carried along at the rate of about fourteen knots an hour, and had shipped some very heavy seas. By one of these, considerable damage was done to the wheel-house, a boat was carried away, and the bulwarks were greatly injured;

the water dashed through the pantry, sweeping off with it plates, dishes, covers and crockery of every smashed the lamps in the cabin, and flooded

kind,

it with water.

It was very impressive to hear the dead, rumbling noise of the body of water, as it poured down the gangways, and covered the floors of our cabins to the depth of one or two feet. Such confidence, however, had we in the strength of the vessel, that we felt little uneasiness; and when I ascertained that my daughters were not seriously alarmed, I became still more at ease, and looked to see what was to be done in my own cabin. Trunks, carpet-bags and hatboxes were moving about in the water; I jumped up and secured them, as well as I could, and on the whole was no great sufferer; but my friends, Symes and Roberts, were not so fortunate,—the former especially, as every thing he had was injured or ruined. After three or four hours incessant bailing, in which nearly all the passengers assisted, the water was got rid of, and the floors were wiped tolerably dry.

During this dreadful night, our gallant commander, Captain Jones, and Mr. Nash, the lieutenant in charge of the mails, were heard speaking aloud and cheerfully; their words and the sound of their voices tended to dispel fear, and imparted courage to all.

The violence of the storm abated next morning, and the vessel's head was again turned towards Cape Clear. It cannot be out of place here to mention that the steamer "Scamander" foundered, during the same gale, in the Bay of Biscay, and that many other casualties occurred, although the storm did not reach the coast.

The appearance of the saloon, at other times so gay and comfortable, was certainly, on that eventful morning, most wretched. I remember well that, as I walked with Captain Jones on the deck, in the course of the afternoon, he pointed out to me a board, which had been left from the boat washed away in the night. This board had the name of the steamer upon it, and he rather exultingly remarked, that, if the boat were picked up, no one would be able to tell that it belonged to the "Hungarian." Little did he think, poor fellow, that during her next voyage, the gallant ship would disappear with himself and every soul on board, without leaving a vestige behind except the boats which were washed ashore.

We called at Queenstown, but remained only long enough to land the mails. Proceeding to our port of destination, we arrived in Liverpool on the thirteenth morning after our departure from Portland ;-and I was soon comfortably settled, with my daughters,