It was the same on Wednesday. In the afternoon we drank tea at a friend's, who was mentioning a captain just come from France, who proposed to sail in the morning for Penzance; for which the wind would serve, though not for Southampton. In this we plainly saw the hand of God, so we agreed with him immediately. In the morning, Thursday, 6, went on board with a fair, moderate wind; but we had but just entered the ship when the wind died away. We cried to God for help and it presently sprang up, exactly fair, and it did not cease till it brought us into Penzance Bay.

Saturday, December 22. -- I yielded to the importunity of a painter and sat an hour and a half, in all, for my picture. I think it was the best that was ever taken; but what is the picture of a man above fourscore?