It is true, by my faith! it is true; there it is written, here I sit, I am myself and no other, this is New York and nowhere else--Oh! "singular, strange!" Our passengers were all stirring and about at peep of day, and I got up myself at half past six. Trunks lay scattered in every direction around, and all were busily preparing to leave the good ship Pacific. Mercy on us! it made me sad to leave her and my shipmates. I feel like a wretch swept down a river to the open sea, and catch at the last boughs that hang over the banks to stay me from that wide loneliness. The morning was real Manchester. I believe some of the passengers had brought the fog and rain in their English clothes, which they were all putting on, together with best hats, dandy cravats, etc.--to make a _sensation_. A fog hung over the shores of Staten Island and Long Island, in spite of which, and a dreary, heavy, thick rain, I thought the hilly outline of the former very beautiful; the trees and grass were rather sunburnt, but in a fair spring day I should think it must be lovely. We breakfasted, and packed ourselves into our shawls and bonnets, and at half-past nine the steam-boat came alongside to take us to shore: it was different from any English steam-boat I ever saw, having three decks, and being consequently a vessel of very considerable size. We got on board her all in the rain and misery, and, as we drifted on, our passengers collected to the side of the boat, and gave "The dear old Lady" three cheers. Poor ship! there she lay--all sails reefed, rocking in melancholy inaction, deserted by her merry inmates, lonely and idle--poor Pacific! I should like to return in that ship; I would willingly skip a passage in order to do so. All were looking at the shores; some wondering and admiring, others recognising through the rain and mist, as best they might; I could not endure to lift my eyes to the strange land, and, even had I done so, was crying too bitterly to see any thing. Mr. ---- and Mr. ---- went to secure apartments for us at the American Hotel; and, after bidding good-by to the sea, we packed ourselves into a hackney coach, and progressed. The houses are almost all painted glaring white or red; the other favourite colours appear to be pale straw colour and grey. They have all green Venetian shutters, which give an idea of coolness, and almost every house has a tree or trees in its vicinity, which looks pretty and garden-like. We reached our inn,--the gentlemen were waiting for us, and led us to our drawing-room. I had been choking for the last three hours, and could endure no more, but sobbed like a wretch aloud. * * * * * * * * * *