Four days after we were made prisoners, the good priest I had conversed with in the house of Maria de Parides, came to me in prison, and offered to obtain my release, if I would only say that I would, at any future time, embrace the Catholic faith. He held out many inducements. I thanked him kindly for his offer, but told him it was impossible I ever could. He said, “I have done my duty as a servant of God; now I will do it as a man.” He never again spoke to me of changing my religion; yet he visited me every day with some comfort or another. Donald M‘Donald was quite at home all the time we had been in South America. He was a good Catholic[3], and much caressed by the Spaniards. He attended mass regularly; bowed to all processions; and was in their eyes every thing a good Catholic ought to be. He often thought of remaining at Buenos Ayres, under the protection of the worthy priest; he had actually agreed to do so, when the order for our release arrived. We were to join General Whitelock on the next day, after fourteen days’ confinement. Donald was still wavering, yet most inclined to stay. I sung to him, “Lochaber no more[4]!” the tears started into his eyes--he dashed them off--“Na, na! I canna stay, I’d maybe _return to Lochaber nae mair_.” The good priest was hurt at his retracting his promise, yet was not offended. He said “It is natural. I once loved Spain above all the other parts of the world; but----“ here he checked himself, gave us his blessing, and ten doubloons a-piece, and left us. We immediately, upon our release, set out on our return to Britain, and had an agreeable and quick passage, in which nothing particular occurred. * * * * * It was on the 25th December, 1807, after an absence of seventeen months from Britain, that I landed at the Cove of Cork in Ireland. A thrill of joy ran through my whole body, and prompted a fervid inward ejaculation to God, who had sustained me through so many dangers, and brought me to a place where I might hear if my parents had pardoned me, or if my misconduct had shortened the period of their lives. The uncertainty of this embittered all my thoughts, and gave additional weight to all my fatigues. How differently did the joy of our return act upon my fellow-soldiers!--to them it was a night of riot and dissipation. Immediately on our arrival, our regiment was marched to Middleton Barracks, where we remained one month; during which time I wrote to my father, and sent to him the amount of the ten doubloons I had received from the good priest. In the course of post I received the following letter, inclosed in one from my brother. It had been returned to them by the Post-office at the Isle of Wight. “_Edinburgh, 5th August, 1806._ “DEAR THOMAS,