The Bay of Fundy is a considerable arm of the sea, extending into the British Provinces, about two hundred miles. At its entrance from the sea, it is about twelve degrees wide, gradually decreasing as it proceeds inland. It is remarkable for its tides, which in consequence of the abundance of its water between the shores is swelled from the height of from forty to sixty feet. So rapid are its flood tides, that small vessels are overturned, and small animals overtaken and devoured. At the ebb, small coasting vessels are often left upon the flats; care being taken so that the heavy swell, called the bore, as it strikes them, will beat against them at either the head or stern. We took on board a pilot, who in a few hours brought us to anchor safely at St. Johns. Our vessel was pulled up for repairs, and all hands paid off except myself. During my stay I became acquainted with a girl of Irish descent, whom I married; I procured me a house and necessary stores, and was in a way to live. The first of December I shipped on board the Coronation, bound for London, with a cargo of timber. On our arrival orders were given to fit ship and proceed to the East Indies. Accordingly the ship was put in readiness, and about the last of January, 1840, we left London, bound for Calcutta, and this I think about the finest voyage that I ever made. We had been out but[246] a few days when we took the trade winds, and ran forty days without scarcely touching brace or halyards. Having watch and watch, the captain told those who had a mind to spend their watch below and study navigation, he would with the greatest pleasure assist. Five of us gladly availed ourselves of this opportunity, and daily we spent our allotted time in study. At the expiration of a few weeks we had made such progress under our accomplished teacher, that each of us could work a day's work tolerable well. We ran down close to St. Helena, and anchored for the purpose of making a short visit to this memorable place, a brief description of which may interest my readers. This celebrated island is in the Atlantic ocean, 1,200 miles distant from any land; the nearest being the coast of South Africa. It is about ten miles long, and six broad, and is as a general thing, a barren waste. It presents the appearance to the approacher, of nothing but an immense wall of perpendicular rock, extremely abrupt at its northern extremity, but more shelving towards the south; varying in height from 600 to 1,200 feet. There are only four openings in the great wall of rock, which surrounds St. Helena, by which it can be approached with any facility, and these are all strongly fortified. This island has become celebrated by being the place to which the allied sovereigns of Europe banished Napoleon, in 1815, where he remained till his death, in 1821. His tomb is in a secluded recess, and is surrounded by a fence, enclosing a piece of ground containing weeping willows. The island is owned by the