Agreeably to instructions from the government to make inquiries as to some of our unfortunate countrymen who were supposed either to have been lost at sea, or to be held in captivity on the island of Formosa, it was ordered that the Macedonian should be sent to the harbor of Keelong for that purpose, accompanied by the Supply; also to ascertain the probability of the procurement of coal in that vicinity, and its proximity to the seashore. This done, the Macedonian was to proceed to Manilla, to leave there the three “Sally Baboo” men picked up by the “Southampton” at sea, with the American consul, that they might be sent back to their native land, which, by the chart, was not very far distant from Luzon. On the 23d of June the Mississippi was gotten under way, and ran out to anchor in what might be waggishly termed the “outer harbor” of Simoda, a miserable roadstead off which a low rock island can not keep the sea, where all next day we rolled and wallowed. On Sunday (we left Japan each time on Sunday) the 25th of June, signal was made for the ships to weigh anchor. The Powhatan took the Southampton in tow, and ran out of the port of Simoda. The Macedonian and Supply endeavored to do the same, but the wind proving baffling, they did not succeed. A long string of Japanese boats made fast to the former and tried to tow her out, but were as successful as a June-bug tied by a thread would be in trying to move the boy who held the other end, so the noble razee had to let go her anchor to avoid going on the rocks that encase the narrow entrance of the port of Simoda. The Supply did the same. The Mississippi, after some delay, and a number of gyrations, took her departure accompanied by the Powhatan with the storeship. During the day, we were running down the westward side of the chain of naked islands that extend to Loo-Choo. At four o’clock, Foogee Yama, from his cloudy eyry, was seen like an angel’s wing, and then withdrawn. Well, good-by, Foogee; admiration continued, is the most tiresome of things, and one can tire of the brilliancy of Burke, with his—“Around whose base things may moulder, but upon whose summit eternity must play.”