Those fortunate ones who never leave Fatherland with the prospect of living abroad, can know little of the emotions with which one approaches, and looks upon the strange country that is to be his home for years, perhaps for life; then, the blood and thoughts flow quickly, and however cool one’s nature, for the time quietude and repose vanish. We arrived at Singapore in the morning of January 12, 1862, after having navigated for several hours through the intricacies of an archipelago of small rocky islets. We heard the heaving of the lead during most of the night; and this, together with the fact that the steamer had been put at half speed, caused some of the more wakeful of our passengers to be on the _qui vive_ until the morning appeared, and we were safely at our moorings. Singapore has a very fine and commodious harbor, which is in the form of a crescent; and the town is built partly on, and partly at the foot of a chain of hills, that rise with picturesque effect a little back from the shore. The most conspicuous of these hills is surmounted by a fort, and occupied by the Government buildings; and on the others are the finely built bungalow residences of the foreigners. The business quarter of the place is near the water, and a substantial stone wall skirts the shore, at about the centre of which there is another strong fortification, mounted with heavy guns, that, pointing towards, sweep the bay with a decidedly _noli me tangere_ aspect. To the right of this fort, and following the shore, there is a fine drive and promenade, called the Bund, where foreigners, at early morning and evening, walk and drive to enjoy the cool sea-breeze. At the time of our visit there was a great deal of shipping in port, and an extraordinary multitude of boats were moving in every direction. Here we met, for the first time, with Eastern boat-life,--the Chinese boatmen being very numerous, and living, according to the custom of their country, in their own boats. We had scarcely reached our moorings in the harbor when the water teemed with Oriental life, and we were surrounded with boats of nearly every Eastern nation, filled with motley groups of all shapes, sizes, and colors, who made the air resonant with the clatter of their various tongues. These people were all engaged either in selling fruit or small wares, and were earnestly ejaculating and begging of us to buy,--some even presenting themselves on board with recommendations for the purpose of “doing” our laundry. The East Indians are a most interesting people; and Ramasamy,[5] our Dubash,--_i. e._ interpreter,--a man who furnished supplies for our ship,--was a fine specimen of the race, with a quiet, unperturbed, and dignified mien, which is characteristic of the people.