, and from the detention of our passports in the towns we passed
through, we were often prevented from reaching the place of destination,
and obliged to lodge at villages, where we suffered much in the way of
food and lodging; yet through all we were favored to bear the journey much
better than I expected. My J.Y. was rather poorly for two days, and I was
extremely anxious about him; but the sight of the Gulf of Venice seemed to
help to restore him.

At Sinigaglia, a town eighteen miles from this, they told us that we
should just meet the vessel which was to sail on the 30th. Judge then what
was our disappointment when, on arriving at the inn here, we found that it
was gone.

This disappointment was a severe trial of their patience; but they
consoled themselves with reflecting that "good in some shape might arise
out of the seeming evil."

Ancona, says John Yeardley, is beautifully situated on the side of a high
hill, in appearance at a distance a perfect model of Scarborough. There
are in the place a good many Greeks, one of whom Argyri recognised as we
inquired at his shop the way to the Post-office. On returning she made
herself known to him, and he shows us every attention; he is a fine
looking man, with a countenance as strong as brass. We are comfortably
lodged, with a delightful view of the harbor, but our hearts are in Corfu.

Our young companion, adds M.Y., is amiable and very quick, but not of much
use to us respecting her native tongue, which she retains but very
imperfectly, and is not at all fond of speaking it.

The houses are high, and many of the streets narrow and offensive, for
want of cleanliness and from an immense population; such numbers are
continually in the streets, that there is no quiet or good air in the
town. The darkness is extreme, and the dissipation apparently very great;
the oppression of our spirits at some periods is almost insupportable; and
yet I am at times very sensible of the calming influence of divine love,
with a sense that, having acted to the best of our judgment, we must
resign ourselves to wait for the return of the steam-packet from England.

When on arriving here we found there were no letters, and that probably
they were sent to Corfu, my heart sank within me. We have, however, been
since cheered by receiving a very kind letter from dear Robert Forster;
nothing could have been more in season than this token of remembrance.

Finding no suitable vessel for Cor