The _Lightning’s_ third voyage was an unfortunate one. On her arrival home in June, 1855, Messrs. James Baines & Co., whether at Captain Enright’s suggestion or not, I do not know, had her hollow bow filled in with deadwood, an action which caused her designer to refer to them as the “wood-butchers of Liverpool,” though in the light of modern knowledge in ship designing they were undoubtedly right, as hollow lines for sailing ships have long been proved a mistake. Unfortunately, however, the blocking in of the bows was not strongly enough done, and one day when she was close-hauled on the starboard tack in the South Atlantic, this false bow, as it was called, was washed away, leaving its frame and ribs bare. This, though in no way affecting the seaworthiness of the _Lightning_, spoilt her sailing, and what promised to be an excellent passage ran to 81 days. In Australia the bow was repaired, but the accident frightened would-be passengers, as the Government surveyors in Melbourne refused to give her a certificate and she also lost a lot of freight. LIVERPOOL TO MELBOURNE, 1855. =Wednesday, 5th September.=—About 3 o’clock this afternoon, amid the booming of cannon, the sad and solemn strains of the band and the cheers of the passengers, our gallant ship was taken in tow by the tug _Rattler_. The commencement of our voyage is marked with a fair wind, so that the captain is determined to proceed without the aid of a tug. Accordingly at 7.30 the pilot left us and we bade him a cheering farewell. In the evening several songs were sung for “Each sail was set, and each heart was gay.” =Thursday, 6th September.=—At 2 a.m. we passed Holyhead, going from 7 to 7½ knots, and Bardsey at 9. At 3 p.m. we were abreast of Tuskar. The ship is gliding along under an astonishing cloud of canvas, with stunsails alow and aloft. In the evening the band played several tunes; many of the passengers ventured on a polka and other dances with spirit. =Friday, 7th September.=—The light breeze of past two days died away at 4 this morning, leaving us becalmed. Happily the weather is delightful with clear sky and brilliant sun. The sea has the appearance of an immense sheet of glass. All parties are on deck so that the promenades are inconveniently crowded. =Tuesday, 11th September.=—About 11 a.m. we passed on the port side close to a Neapolitan brig, which put us in mind of Noah’s Ark. She was going ahead about one knot and drifting two, with a fine breeze that would have enabled a ship of any other nation to carry all sail, while these sea-lubbers rolled along under double-reefed topsails and furled mainsail. Lat. 44° 9′ N., long. 12° 5′ W. Distance run 205 miles. =Thursday, 13th September.=—About 7 this morning we exchanged colours with a ship steering our course. At 12 she was but a white speck on the horizon and at 3 she was lost to sight.