On the 27th, the _Blue-Peter_ was flying, and next morning, at half past ten o'clock, the signal was made for the sailing of the third division of the fleet, to which our regiment belonged. The anchors were soon weighed, and with a light breeze we set sail from the Downs, for the “unknown land.” As I had settled all my sentimental matters before I left London, (for which the post is my debtor some odd pounds,) I had nothing to restrain my mind from the enjoyment of the scene before me; and perhaps the thought that I was now quitting those I held dear as life, might have added to the interest with which I contemplated it. The land lessening into blue mist; the ocean expanded to my view, not in a solitary ship, but in the midst of moving cities; hundreds on hundreds of vessels, holding on in the same steady course together, with the warlike crowd visible on the decks of all; when contemplated in the mass, the whole North Sea seemed like a forest! It was a scene sublime and magnificent beyond description. We had no bad weather; a fine light breeze favoured us during the whole of our voyage; and at night it was not the least delightful of our pleasures, to listen to the glees of the German riflemen who sailed in our division; they were at once harmonious and characteristic, and gave a charm to the scene which kept many a hundred listeners awake. It has often been a matter of annoyance to me, to think that the peasantry of Great Britain alone are the only people in Europe who cannot sing in _harmony_; the lower orders of every other country are qualified to take a part in a glee. Amongst my countrymen, I have heard even an harmonious _second_ condemned as “_not in tune_,” or “_putting the singer out_!” Of late years, however, the nature of harmony has been more comprehended—no doubt, arising from the practice of singing psalms;—if so, this is one good thing that may be set down to the credit of “_the saints_.” On the 29th we came in sight of the low sandy shores of Zealand, and on the 30th we anchored within about two miles of Campveer, having safely explored a most dangerous gut or branch of the Scheldt, every ship sounding as she proceeded; while “_By the Mark Seven_” was melodiously sung by the crews of the various vessels! A calm and sunny day added much to the effect of the scene.