There are a great number of elegant buildings, public and private, situated on the hill which overlooks the town. Those more worthy of note are the bishop's palace, the custom-house, and court-house which has in front a pediment supported on six Corinthian columns surrounded by a group of colossial figures. I was ordered to proceed to Belfast with my cargo. Stood up the channel on a bowline. After rounding the Tuskar light we had a fine wind, till abreast the Isle of Man, when in consequence of a head wind we were put back. For three days I never left the deck except to my regular meals. The wind veering around we again stood up the channel and weathered the South Rock light fifteen miles before Belfast. Tacked and stood over to the Scotch side, dodging about during the night. Daylight found us abreast the Copeland light. Seeing[281] a pilot boat I hoisted the Union Jack as a signal, which soon brought him on board, and we found a safe anchorage at Belfast. Procured a berth and hove her to it. Discharged my men, most of them having been paid at St. Johns, to run thither. I remained on board four days and sold the ship for £700 sterling, received a check on the bank of London for the amount. Proceeded to Liverpool by steamer, from thence to London by railroad. Obtained the money and returned to Liverpool. Shipped on board of the Duncan and sailed for St. Johns with the money, early in November, 1842. The wind blowing fresh up channel, the captain concluded to run out of the north channel. Had a fine passage until we were abreast Tory island, on the northwest coast of Ireland, when the wind shifted into the northeast, and blew a fresh breeze. Running down the coast at night we were all greatly alarmed at the cry from the lookout, "Breakers ahead." The helm was instantly put hard up, which the ship immediately answered and came around upon her keel. Although under double-reefed-top-sails, they were trimmed in a few moments, and the ship began to gather headway, and stood offshore till daylight, when we made sail and stood to the westward. Without any thing of particular note we reached the Newfoundland banks, and saw and spoke the ship Thetis of St. Johns. She had the night previous run down a fishing schooner, seeing nothing of her until she struck her midships. Soon as possible the ship was brought to and boats lowered, but not a vestige was seen. Their loud shrieks were heard as they sank to rise no more. Anxious friends have no doubt long awaited their return and are[282] still ignorant of their doom. Thus many a ship's crew have been swallowed up in a moment, with the waves their winding sheet, the howling winds their requiem.