and that we were indebted to chance alone, for the good fortune of having been met with.  We repeat with pleasure the expression of Mr. Parnajon, addressed to one of us.  “If they were to give me the rank of captain of a frigate, I should feel a less lively pleasure, than that which I experienced when I met your raft.”  Some persons said to us without reserve, “We thought you were all dead a week ago.”  We say that the commander of the brig had not received positive orders to look for us.  The following were his instructions:  “Mr. de Parnajon, commanding the brig Argus, will proceed to the side of the desert with his vessel, will employ every means to assist the shipwrecked persons, who must have reached the coast; and will supply them with such provisions and ammunition as they may want; after having assured himself of the fate of these unfortunate persons, he will endeavour to continue his course to the Medusa, to see whether the currents have carried the raft towards her.”  This is all that was said of our wretched machine.  It is very certain, that, at the Island of St. Louis, we were given up; our friends believed we had perished:  this is so true, that some, who were going to send letters to Europe, wrote that one hundred and fifty unfortunate people had been placed on a raft, and that it was impossible they should have escaped.  It will not, perhaps, be out of place, to mention here a conversation which took place respecting us.  In a pretty large company, some persons said:  “It is a pity that the raft was abandoned; for there were many brave fellows on board; but their sufferings are over; they are happier than we, for who knows how all this will end.”  In short, as we were now found, the frigate steered again for Senegal, and the next day we saw the land, for which we had been longing for thirteen days:  we cast anchor in the evening off the coast, and in the morning, the winds being favorable, we directed our course to the road of St. Louis, where we cast anchor on the 19th of July, about three o’clock in the afternoon.

Such is the faithful history of one hundred and fifty persons, who were left upon the raft; only fifteen of whom were saved; and five of that number were so reduced, that they died of fatigue, shortly after arriving at St. Louis; those who still exist are covered with scars, and the cruel sufferings which they have endured have greatly impaired their constitution.

In terminating this recital of the unparalelled sufferings, to which we were a prey for thirteen days, we beg leave to name those who shared them with us: 

Alive when we were saved. Notice of their subsequent fate. 
Messrs.
Dupont, Captain of Foot; In Senegal. 
L’Heureux, Lieutenant; In Senegal. 
Lozach, Sub-Lieutenant; Dead. 
Clairet, Sub-Lieutenant; Dead. 
Griffon du Bellay, Ex-Clerk of the Navy; Out of employment.