We got under way yesterday evening, and the wind not permitting us to continue our voyage, we stood to the north-east towards Patras, at the mouth of the Gulf of Lepanto; but the wind changing, we put about at twelve this morning, just as we got in sight of its entrance, near the spot on which Don John of Austria obtained the celebrated victory over the Turkish fleet in the year 1571. In this cruize we have had a view of Ithaca, in which we were told at Zante, the foundation of Ulysses' Palace is still to be traced. His island is now called Little Cephalonia, is about twenty miles long, appears very barren, but is said to be well peopled, though with a very vile race. Zante and the greater Cephalonia also belonged to Ulysses, and are both described by the ancients, as being remarkably fertile. The latter is by much the largest, the former the most productive. A little to the north of Ithaca, in the Island of St. Mauro, is the famous Promontory of Leucate, the Lover's Leap, celebrated by the Spectator, in his beautiful panegyric on the tender Sappho. Even Venus herself is said to have been led there by Apollo, to be cured of her passion for Adonis. October 16th. Wind again contrary. Tacking off Zante, to get into a small bay, where there is a curious spring, from which a great quantity of tar oozes; but not being able to gain the anchorage before sunset, and the wind becoming fair for our course, we stood to the south, and in the night passed the Strophades, a set of small low islands, where Æneas was attacked by the Harpies. It was not without regret that I passed by Zante, without landing there. It was the only place in the Venetian territories we had any chance of visiting, and I wished much to see the effect of a Government, in which Despotism, in the form of a Republic, makes her votaries believe that Tyranny is Liberty. But by what I could learn from the traders, and a few other people, to whom I had an opportunity of speaking, the police is really shocking. The Governors are generally needy men, but, by accepting fines as a remission for murder, they are soon enriched, perhaps by the ruin of the widow and the orphan.--Is your husband assassinated--your father murdered? Dry up your tears--your Governor is three guineas richer. Do you remonstrate? For three guineas more you may let loose all the demons of revenge. Thus one murder produces another; whole families are involved in destruction, or at best live in perpetual alarms; justice never interferes, and society is of course destroyed.