We had scarcely passed the pagoda in the neighborhood of Old Whampoa, and the towering one of nine stories on Lob Creek, when the Barrier pagoda came full in view. These tall structures, shooting up at different points in a landscape of low, flat country, not only relieve the monotonous sameness of the picture, but greatly embellish the scene. Here we also passed the ruins of the Barrier Forts that were destroyed by our lamented Commodore Foote. We observed while in China that the name of no American naval commander was as frequently mentioned as that of this officer; the most casual allusion to him always bringing forth an eulogium upon his gentlemanly and consistent Christian character, as well as upon his skill and fine judgment as an officer. Above these ruins we met a two-masted vessel of some petty Mandarin. Both wind and tide being against her, she was towed by Coolies, who ran along the river’s bank,--like horses towing a canalboat,--while pulling at the line of rope that was fastened to her. Near this scene an Imperial fleet of four men-of-war and eight gun-boats were lying at anchor. These were newly painted vessels, and although an occasional line of black and white relieved the garish brilliancy of the red, the latter was the prevailing color. This fleet was part of a naval force which was mustering at Canton, and were to be sent North to fight the rebels. For some months it made Canton its rendezvous, and finally numbered sixty vessels of war, besides a large flotilla of covered boats for soldiers. On the 27th of July following, however, when nearly ready to proceed North, it was dispersed and destroyed by one of the most terrible typhoons that ever visited Southern China. The men-of-war were huge junks, with monstrously fierce eyes--such as the Chinese always give their Imperial dragon--painted upon their prows. They were undoubtedly designed to strike the natives with awe; and their wildly grotesque and terrible appearance was admirably adapted for that purpose.