The good father Philip accompanied us to the vessel, and staid till the moment of our departure. He had previously sent aboard every thing that he thought would be agreeable to us during the voyage. His friendly soul poured itself forth in wishes for our happiness. May all the blessings of heaven be showered on his head! It is Clara's fate to inspire great passions. Nobody loves her moderately. As soon as she is known she seizes on the soul, and centres every desire in that of pleasing her. The friendship she felt for Jacinta, and the impression father Philip's goodness made on her, rendered her insensible to all around her. The vessel was full of passengers, most of them ladies, who were astonished at beholding such grief. One of them, a native of Jeremie, was the first who attracted the attention of Clara. This lady, who is very handsome, and very young, has three children of the greatest beauty, for whom she has the most impassioned fondness, and seems to view in them her own protracted existence. She has all the bloom of youth, and when surrounded by her children, no picture of Venus with the loves and graces was ever half so interesting. She is going to join her husband at St. Jago, who I hear, is a great libertine, and not sensible of her worth. An air of sadness dwells on her lovely countenance, occasioned, no doubt, by his neglect and the pain of finding a rival in every woman he meets. There is also on board a beautiful widow whose husband was killed by the negroes, and who, without fortune or protection, is going to seek at St. Jago a subsistence, by employing her talents. There is something inconceivably interesting in these ladies. Young, beautiful, and destitute of all resource, supporting with cheerfulness their wayward fortune. But the most captivating trait in their character is their fondness for their children! The Creole ladies, marrying very young, appear more like the sisters than the mothers of their daughters. Unfortunately they grow up too soon, and not unfrequently become the rivals of their mothers. We are still on board, at the entrance of the harbour of St. Jago, which is guarded by a fort, the most picturesque object I ever saw. It is built on a rock that hangs over the sea, and the palm trees which wave their lofty heads over its ramparts, add to its beauty. We are obliged to wait here till to-morrow; for this day being the festival of a saint, all the offices are shut. No business is transacted, and no vessel can approach the town without permission. This delay is painful; I am on the wing to leave the vessel, though it is only four days since we left Barracoa.--I wish to know whether we shall meet as much hospitality here as in that solitary place. Yet why should I expect it? Hearts like those of father Philip and the lovely Jacinta do not abound.--How many are there who, never having witnessed such goodness, doubt its existence?