The shore boat had a good start, which gave it an unfair advantage, and being propelled by two vigorous MEN, obeying an instinctive impulse to escape from an impending danger, kept about the same distance ahead. They steered for Long Wharf the nearest route to TERRA FIRMA passed the steps on the north side, and pulled alongside a schooner which was lying near the T, clambered to her decks, leaving the boat to her fate, nimbly leaped ashore, took to their heels, and commenced a race up the wharf as if the avenger of blood was upon their tracks! Stetson steered the boat directly for the steps, up which he hastily ascended, and ordered me to follow. As we rounded the corner of the adjoining store, we beheld the fugitives leaving us at a pace which no sailor could expect to equal. The man who had particularly excited the wrath of the mate took the lead, and cut a conspicuous figure with his single coat-tail sticking out behind him horizontally like the leg of a loon! The mate, seeing the hopelessness of further pursuit, suddenly stopped, and contented himself with shaking his cudgel at the runaways, and muttering between his teeth, "Run, you blackguards, run!" And run they did, until they turned down India Street, and were lost to sight. In a day or two after the occurrence above described, the ship Packet started on her voyage to Liverpool. She was a noble ship, well found and furnished in every respect, and, setting aside the uncertain temper and eccentricities of the chief mate, well officered and manned. When we passed Boston light house with a fresh northerly breeze, one clear and cold morning towards the close of November, in the year 1811, bound on a voyage of several years' duration, I experienced no regret at leaving my home and native land, and had no misgiving in regard to the future. My spirits rose as the majestic dome of the State House diminished in the distance; my heart bounded with hope as we entered the waters of Massachusetts Bay. I felt that the path I was destined to travel, although perhaps a rugged one, would be a straight and successful one, and if not entirely free from thorns, would be liberally sprinkled with flowers. It is wisely ordered by a benignant Providence that man, notwithstanding his eager desire to know the secrets of futurity, can never penetrate those mysteries. In some cases, could he know the changes which would take place in his condition, the misfortunes he would experience, the miseries he would undergo, in the lapse of only a few short years, or perhaps months, he would shrink like a coward from the conflict, and yield himself up to despair.