"We sailed again yesterday morning between four and five o'clock, with a most promising breeze in our favour, to make the Land's End. About two or three in the evening the wind shifted immediately in our teeth, a violent hurricane and tempest suddenly arose, the most dreadful possible of nights and of scenes ensued, the sea breaking everywhere over the ship. We lost the tiller, and the vessel was for some minutes down on her beam-ends; and nothing, I believe, but the undaunted presence of mind, perseverance, experience, and courage of Paget preserved us from a watery grave. The oldest and most experienced of our sailors were petrified and paralysed; you may judge somewhat, then, of what was the state of most of the passengers; every one almost flew up in their shirts upon deck in terrors that are not to be described."[68] [68] Knighton's "Memoirs," p. 94. In this position the Royal yacht and her amateur sailors must have made a study for a marine painter, than which nothing, we believe, more striking has ever appeared on canvas. The King subsequently sailed on his intended visit to the sister island, and arrived off the coast in due course. On his Majesty's landing, the inhabitants of Dublin and of the neighbourhood, says a chronicler of these events, "escorted him with the most tumultuous acclamations to the vice-regal lodge, from the steps of which he thus addressed them:--'This is one of the happiest days of my life. I have long wished to visit you. My heart has always been Irish; from the day it first beat I loved Ireland, and this day has shown me that I am beloved by my Irish subjects. Rank, station, honours, are nothing; but to feel that I live in the hearts of my Irish subjects is to me exalted happiness.'" "These felicitous expressions," we are told, "diffused universal enchantment, and combined with the graceful condescension and dignified affability of manner, which the Sovereign knew so well to exhibit when inclined to do so, roused the loyalty of the people to a perfect enthusiasm. For the week that he remained there, his life was a continued triumph."[69] [69] Alison's "History of Europe," vol. ii. p. 486. His stay in the island was marked by a series of loyal demonstrations that could not fail of producing in the mind of his Majesty intense gratification. On the 15th of August the King held a private levee at the Lodge in Phoenix Park, Dublin, at which the principal members of the Irish Government were presented. On the 17th was his public entry into the metropolis, when his progress to the Castle was a scene of devotion such as Dublin had never before exhibited. He re-embarked at Kingston on the 5th of September, but did not quit the Irish shore till three days later. After a stormy passage, he returned to English ground at Milford Haven on the 13th, and arrived at Carlton House on the 15th of the same month. Some particulars of this memorable visit hitherto unknown may be found in the following letters.