Fully aware that we were leaving the most home-like port we should make during the voyage, our adieus to Cape Town were with mingled feelings of gratification and regret. Thrift met us there at every step; and the place had a substantial and prosperous, as well as a quiet and comfortable, English air, which one could not fail to notice after visiting the miserable, tumble-down Portuguese settlements of Porte au Grande and Loando. To visit Cape Town directly after stopping at the last-named places made us feel profoundly grateful for our descent from the Anglo-Saxon stock, and impressed us with the truth of the oft-repeated remark that “the English are the best colonists.” This is undoubtedly owing, in a great degree, to their persistent energy and industry, and also to the fact, that, wherever they go, the spirit of enterprise and the elevating influences and comforts of our Protestant religion goes with them. At three o’clock on the afternoon of the 12th of December we weighed anchor, and our good ship being turned once more seaward, we steamed out of Table Bay. Taking our seats on the quarter-deck, just under the bridge connecting the wheel-houses, and facing the stern, we prepared to note the points of interest as they passed before us while sailing out of the bay. First the city, with its background of mountains, receded in the distance; then the shipping; and passing the breakwater, the fortress, the city hospital, and light-house, we rounded Green Point, with Bird’s Island on our left, and were soon fairly out at sea. We had a stiff head-wind to encounter; but our good ship ploughed her way swiftly through the dark-green billows, and soon were seen in outline the other side of the Lion’s Back and Head,--the former greatly lengthened, but the latter bearing itself as loftily as ever,--and in the valley between the two a fine road wound its way over the country, with large and fertile farms on either hand.