If such be my sentiments, I have no right to wish calamity to France. I do not.----May she conclude peace with her neighbours; and labour to settle her own government; and render happy her numerous children! But when I look forward to the completion of such an event, I think I foresee so many long years of havoc, which have yet to urge their course in this devoted country, that I will drop the curtain, and hasten to meet-------- --------. Adieu. LETTER XII. Plymouth, 11th May, 1795. MY DEAR --------, Congratulate me. The circumstances which led to my obtaining permission to come to England, prove me fortunate beyond example; and as I think them honourable to French generosity, I shall not omit to record them. I arrived here yesterday, in a little Danish brig bound to Copenhagen, which ran off the Sound, and made a signal for a pilot. One of the Cawsand boats in consequence pushed out to us, and received Admiral Bligh, his two young gentlemen, and myself. We were soon landed; and I am happy to tell you that I found ---- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- ---- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- -------- The packet which accompanies this will explain to you my hopes, and the measures which I intended to pursue, at the time it was written. The Admiral’s liberation and passport arrived on the 2d instant; and, on his request for his _aid-de-camp_ and interpreter to accompany him, the good commissary made no scruple of furnishing me with a passport to go to Brest, upon pledging myself to return, in case my application to the representatives might be rejected. Having bidden adieu to my friends, I set out on the following morning on horseback, with the Admiral and the two boys in a carriage, the best the town afforded, without springs, and with traces made of ropes. Our sudden departure was in consequence of knowing that an embargo, which had subsisted for some time, was just taken off, and that several American vessels were ready to sail for England. We travelled about thirty-six miles, through a country which is full of young promising corn, indicating a plentiful crop, and appearing not to have suffered from wanting husbandmen to sow it. About four o’clock we reached a village, whence there is a ferry about ten miles across to Brest. Here we embarked, with more than a dozen country people, who were carrying the produce of their farms to the next day’s market. Only one of them could speak French, who satisfied the curiosity of the rest about us. They made their supper of _crape_, and were abundantly thankful to us for a remnant of a piece of cold veal which we had brought with us, some bread, and a little wine, which they ate as luxuries. Owing to a contrary wind, it was midnight before we got abreast of the harbour’s mouth; when we learned, by hailing a vessel, to our unspeakable mortification, that all the Americans had sailed in the course of the day.