On Saturday, at noon, I found myself on board the splendid ship Waterloo, belonging to the Star Line, bound for Liverpool, and commanded by Captain Harvey. Here I found assembled those who were to constitute my fellow-passengers across old ocean's wave, numbering some thirty-five persons, great aud small, for the cabin, and forty-five for the steerage. Here, also, I found assembled a few chosen friends whom I had known in college-life, and who had come to the dock to take leave, and express their good wishes for my safe return and happiness. After a short time allowed by our accommodating captain for leave-taking, we were dragged by the tug Achilles out into the middle of East River, amid the shouts and waving of those on shore. We stood in the stream for about half an hour, waiting for two of our party, who had gone out to purchase books for perusal during the voyage, thinking they had ample time. They soon returned, and found, much to their surprise, that we had left the dock. Their only chance was to get some one to row them out in a yawl, which they soon found without difficulty. As they were pulling out to us, we laughed at them most heartily, which dispelled for a time the gloom which seemed to pervade all on deck. All being aboard, the tug comes up and hitches on, and off we move for our destination. While wending our way slowly out to Sandy Hook, we had a fine opportunity of indulging our romantic ideas and enjoying the beautiful scenery on New-York Bay, which is said by some to surpass any in the world, not excepting even the Bay of Naples, rendered immortal by the pen of the gifted Byron. The great city of New-York, the emporium of the new world, with her lofty spires and immense structures, surrounded by a forest of masts, indicating her commercial importance; Brooklyn, her sister city just opposite, with her beautiful residences and public edifices; together with Hoboken, Jersey City, Governor's Island, and other places, all possessing their attractions, combine to render the panorama exceedingly beautiful. About dusk the steamer left us outside the Hook, and returned to the city, leaving us to make our way across old ocean's wave as fast as the wind might carry us. In a few moments the hoarse voice of the mate was heard crying " All hands ahoy!" but instead of the command being obeyed, it was followed by the cry of "Fight-fight-fight !" when all on deck simultaneously made their way to the forecastle, from whence the cry