We got foul of one or two ships as we went out, and just as we left the harbour, the clouds, which had threatened all the morning, burst upon us in a tremendous storm, accompanied by thunder and lightning.  The rain came down in torrents, sweeping along the decks, while a heavy squall threatened to drive us upon the rocks, which we had admired so much as the guardians of the port.  In this emergency, we were compelled to drop our anchor, and remain quiescent until the fury of the elements had abated.  The storm passed away about midnight, and getting the steam up, we were far away from Marseilles and la belle France before morning.

The Megara belonged to a class of steamers built for the government upon some new-fangled principle, and which have the art of rolling in any sea.  Though the waters of the Mediterranean were scarcely ruffled by the breeze, which was in our favour, there was so much motion in the vessel, that it was impossible to employ ourselves in any way except in reading.  In other respects, the Megara was commodious enough; the stern cabin, with smaller ones opening into it, and each containing two bed-places, was appropriated to the ladies, the whole being neatly fitted up.  We found some agreeable fellow-passengers; the only drawback being a family of three children.  In consequence of the cabins being thus occupied, we could not preserve the neatness and order which are so essential to comfort, and which need not be dispensed with even in a short voyage.

Our commandant, Mr. Goldsmith, a descendant of the brother of the poet, and who appeared to have inherited the benevolence of his distinguished relative, was indefatigable in his exertions to render us happy.  He had procured abundant supplies for the table, which was every day spread with a profusion of good things, while eight or ten different kinds of wine, in addition to ale and porter, were placed at the disposal of the guests.  Nothing, indeed, was wanting, except a French cook.  No single meal had ever disagreed with us in France; but though partaking sparingly, we felt the inconvenience of the heavy English mode of cookery.

Amongst the attendants at table was one who speedily grew into the good graces of all the passengers.  A little fellow, eight years old, but who did not look more than seven, placed himself at the commandant’s elbow, who immediately upon seeing him exclaimed, with a benevolent smile, “What, are you here, Jemmy? then we are all right.”  Jemmy, it seems, was the boatswain’s son, and no diminutive page belonging to a spoiled lady of quality, or Lilliputian tiger in the service of a fashionable aspirant, could have been dressed in more accurate costume.  Jemmy was every inch a sailor; but, while preserving the true nautical cut, his garments were fashioned with somewhat coxcombical nicety, and he could have made his appearance upon any stage as a specimen of aquatic dandyism.  Jemmy would be invaluable on board a yacht.  His services at table were rewarded by a plateful of pudding, which he ate standing at the captain’s right hand, after having, with great propriety, said grace.  The little fellow had been afloat for a year and a half; but during this period his education had not been neglected, and he could read as well as any person in the ship.