As yet, I only know of two people who have been there—one of whom, Harry Leefe, started from Cresswell last year to join an uncle who owns an island there, and grows cotton and cocoa-nuts. This Robinson Crusoe of the South Seas has for years past been to us enveloped in a halo of romance; and now I am looking forward to seeing him in his own home, and myself becoming “a resident in the South Seas.” Does it not sound delightful, and don’t you envy me? Before leaving London, I managed to get up some information by reading a cleverly compiled book on Fiji, by a man who has never been there; but he vouches for the group being a terrestrial paradise, where the soil need only be scratched to yield abundant harvests of every sort, and where every form of volcanic crag combines with tropical foliage to produce endless beauties. So I have invested in a goodly stock of drawing paper, and enough paints and brushes to last me a lifetime, and look forward to a most interesting sketching tour. The ground will have the advantage of being altogether new, which is an immense charm. And now we are fairly started, and a very large pleasant party we are. We (the Fijian family) assembled in London on the 22d March, for a short special service at King’s College Chapel, Somerset House, and next morning started for Paris, where we halted four days, embarking at Marseilles on Easter morning—an unsatisfactory moment for starting, but travellers cannot always choose their own times and seasons. This is a splendid steamer, 3600 tons, most comfortable in every respect, and with a capital table for such as appreciate French cookery.