_April 1st_.--I had expected the Admiral to breakfast with me; but, to my great disappointment, I saw the ship get under weigh, and sail. I afterwards learned that the Emperor and Empress were on board, and accompanied him out of the harbour as far as the light-house, so that he could not leave them. The morning was dull and grey when the Pedro Primeiro, the Maria da Gloria, the Unaŏ, and the Liberal got under weigh; but just as the little squadron came abreast of Santa Cruz, and the fort began to salute, the sun broke from behind a cloud, and a bright yellow flood of light descended behind the ships to the sea, where they seemed to swim in a sea of glory; and that was the last sight I had of my kind friend. _10th_.--Nothing of any note or variety has taken place during these ten days. Glennie is gaining ground: I write and read, and attend to him. The Nitherohy sails to-morrow to join Lord Cochrane off Bahia, with three mortars on board, two 10, and one 13-inch. I find, with surprise, that the cartridges are still made up here in canvass, not flannel; and I fear that the ships are not so well found as I wish them: great part of the canvass and cordage have been seventeen years in store, and, I should fear, partly rotten. But all this is nothing to the evil attending the having Portuguese among the crews. 'Tis not natural they should fight against their countrymen. I have had the pleasure of reading Peveril of the Peak within these few days. 'Tis a sort of historical portrait, like Kenilworth, where the Duke of Buckingham, he who "In one revolving moon Was hero, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon," is the principal figure: Charles II. and the rest of the court serve for the black boy and parrot in costume; while the story of Peveril is nothing more than the carved-work frieze of the very pleasant apartment he has been placed in.