The next morning was Sunday: we had left Japan on that day, and we were now returning to it. The sun came up bright and clear, but the air had become very cold, and penetrated the ear painfully as we stood upon deck, because of the transition from the more genial temperature of Loo-Choo, which we had left a few days before. On our right hand was _Ohosima_—the smoke slowly ascending from its volcano like incense from nature’s altar, while right ahead of us were the mountain ranges of the shore of Japan wrapped in snow—yes snow, a thing we had not laid eyes on for many a month before:— And as springs in deserts found, seem sweet, “All brackish though they be,” so this even chilling remembrance, brought up a warmth of recollection of our own country. Having drifted a good deal during the night, daylight found us opposite the wrong bay—that of Kawatsoo, instead of Yedo. But lucky so it was, for on approaching, two ships were descried in under the land. On reaching signal distance we made out the numbers, flying at their mast-heads, to be those of the Macedonian and Vandalia. The latter vessel, being the nearest, soon telegraphed the flag-ship “ashore is the Macedonian,” this vessel the night before, when thick and hazy, having gotten on a reef. When we came up she had thrown over a number of things to lighten her, and had slung and buoyed her guns too, to let them go, if necessary. Signal was made for the three ships to come to anchor. In the afternoon, the sea being smoother, the Mississippi was directed to pull the Macedonian off the reef, which she did finely, parting one hawser in the undertaking. The ships remained at this anchorage for the night. Before sundown, most opportunely, the Lexington hove in sight. The Southampton, more lucky than the other sailing-vessels, had made the bay of Yedo, and her true, old sailor-commander had run up it, as far as the sailing-chart furnished him, laid down. The Japanese on shore, who knew of the grounding of the Macedonian, had gone up to where the Southampton lay, and informed them of an American ship with a white streak around her, being ashore, and with a native chart, they pointed out the spot, where she was. Captain Boyle despatched a launch with an officer to her assistance, though the arrival of the steamers, rendered it unnecessary. No sight could have exceeded in magnificence the one presented by _Foogee Yama_ at daylight, the next morning. The clouds that had obscured it the evening before had disappeared with the night. The air was clear; the mountain seemed to have moved nearer during darkness; its mantle of snow, divided by rugged ravines, was more plain; and when the moon was setting, and sharply defining one side with its chill, cold rays, the sun, in all his state, came up upon the other, and burnished with brilliant glory the huge cone as it swelled up into the sky.