On the letters being brought forth, I found that I had four; one of August, 1855, left here by a ship that had carried it about the ocean for years--the other three were of May, July, and November, 1858; this last was inexpressibly welcome to me, as it brought everything down to a comparatively late date, assuring me of a warm welcome home whenever I did arrive. Of this, however unworthy, I had never doubted; but it is a weakness of our nature to take delight in the rehearsal of pleasant facts. The chief topic of interest, after being assured of the welfare of my connections, and one that astonished and, to some extent, perplexed me, was the birth of a niece, a child of my younger brother. This was the first intelligence I had of his marriage, which, however, was not unexpected; I had looked forward to it as a matter of course; but that he should be blessed with issue ere I returned, never once crossed my mind--though why, I know not. At first, I could scarce believe it; but there it was, in black and white, the plainness of the chirography forbidding a doubt of its authenticity; so there was nothing left for me to do but to sit down and acknowledge myself taken all aback by the intelligence. After a few minutes reflection, I could not but laugh at my stupidity, or inadvertency, in never having made a provision in my mind for such a contingency; however, so wags the world; improbable events are fostered by the imagination, whilst probable ones are allowed, through inattention, to escape notice. After having thoroughly read over my letters, I had leisure to think of my companions. Some, I could see by the expression of the eyes, and nervous exhilarated step, had received good news from home; others, by their troubled air, displayed their reception of unwelcome tidings; whilst those who had received none, either walked alone with compressed lip and lowering brow, refusing all sympathy, or strove by an affected gayety to laugh off the carelessness of their people in not writing.