"_June 20, off Ushant._--I am getting quite fond of the big ship. Yesterday morning in the quiet sunlight she turned so slowly and lazily in the great harbour at Portland, and by and by slipped out past the long pier with so little stir, that I could hardly believe we were really off. No men drunk, no women crying, no singing or swearing, no confusion or bustle on deck--nobody apparently aware that they had anything to do. The look of the thing was that the ship had been spoken to civilly, and had kindly undertaken to do everything that was necessary without any further interference. I have a nice cabin, with plenty of room for my legs in my berth, and have slept two nights like a top. Then we have the ladies' cabin set apart as an engineer's office, and I think this decidedly the nicest place in the ship: 35 ft. x 20 ft. broad--four tables, three great mirrors, plenty of air, and no heat from the funnels, which spoil the great dining-room. I saw a whole library of books on the walls when here last, and this made me less anxious to provide light literature; but alas, to-day I find that they are every one Bibles or Prayer-books. Now one cannot read many hundred Bibles.... As for the motion of the ship, it is not very much, but 'twill suffice. Thomson shook hands and wished me well. I _do_ like Thomson.... Tell Austin that the _Great Eastern_ has six masts and four funnels. When I get back I will make a little model of her for all the chicks, and pay out cotton reels.... Here we are at 4.20 at Brest. We leave probably to-morrow morning. "_July 12, Great Eastern._--Here as I write we run our last course for the buoy at the St. Pierre shore-end. It blows and lightens, and our good ship rolls, and buoys are hard to find; but we must soon now finish our work, and then this letter will start for home.... Yesterday we were mournfully groping our way through the wet grey fog, not at all sure where we were, with one consort lost and the other faintly answering the roar of our great whistle through the mist. As to the ship which was to meet us, and pioneer us up the deep channel, we did not know if we should come within twenty miles of her; when suddenly up went the fog, out came the sun, and there, straight ahead, was the _Wm. Cory_, our pioneer, and a little dancing boat, the _Gulnare_, sending signals of welcome with many-coloured flags. Since then we have been steaming in a grand procession; but now at 2 A.M. the fog has fallen, and the great roaring whistle calls up the distant answering notes all around us. Shall we or shall we not find the buoy? "_July 13._--All yesterday we lay in the damp dripping fog, with whistles all round and guns firing so that we might not bump up against one another. This little delay has let us get our reports into tolerable order. We are now, at seven o'clock, getting the cable end again, with the main cable buoy close to us."