On board there was one young man, who had come to Peru as a passenger. He had not the money to take him back; and, being a seaman, he had joined the ship as one of her crew. We sailed late in the afternoon, and were some time getting out of the harbour. About ten o'clock at night this young man was at the wheel, where he was spoken to by the captain in a very harsh, unpleasant tone. It was said that the skipper was intoxicated; and that he not only spoke in the manner described, but struck the young sailor without the slightest cause or provocation. The exact truth will perhaps never be told. The night was very dark; and all that was certainly known is: that the sailor drew his knife, plunged it into the captain's body; and then jumped overboard into the sea! As the captain had evidently received a mortal wound, the ship was put about; and brought back to her anchorage within the harbour. The captain was carried below; and for three or four hours he did nothing but swear, and threaten to kill the sailor who had stabbed him. His senses had forsaken him; and it was impossible to make him understand, that the young man had leaped overboard, and was in all probability at that moment fifty fathoms under the sea. The captain had a wife and two children aboard; and what with the noise made by them, and his own wild ravings, not a soul, either among crew or passengers, slept during that night. By six o'clock in the morning, the wounded man had ceased to live. Three days after, another captain was sent aboard by the agents; and we again set sail for Melbourne. Nothing was heard of the sailor previous to our leaving the port or ever afterwards. At the time he jumped overboard lights were to be seen, shining on many vessels in the harbour; and some believed that he might have reached either a ship, or the shore. There was not much probability of his having been saved. Both ships and shore were too distant for him to have swum to either. In all likelihood he preceded the captain, into that unknown world from which there is no return. Very few, either of the passengers or crew, blamed the young sailor for what he had done. The captain had the reputation of being a "bully;" and his having commenced practising his tyranny so early on the voyage-- and especially on the man at the wheel, who, while there, should have remained unmolested--gave evidence that had he continued to command the ship, our passage across the Pacific might have proved of a character anything but "peaceful." The skipper, who succeeded him, was a man of a different disposition. He soon became a favourite with all on board; and we had both a quick and pleasant passage to Melbourne--where we arrived without any further accident or obstruction. When setting foot for the second time on Australian soil, I found the city of Melbourne greatly changed--I am happy to say--for the better.