able to move without assistance, but not confined to my bed. It has been a hard boat with me this time, but thank Heaven and a good constitution, I have escaped. I quitted Bacchante with regret, and I may say, without vanity, the regret at parting was mutual. Captain Stanfell, of the Cossack, is appointed to her. I I congratulate you most sincerely on dear Edward at length being made lieutenant. The Commander-in-chief has ordered him to the fleet to receive his appointment, and he is now with me on board the Cerberus for a passage to join him. I will let you know what ship he is named to. Conceive my joy at seeing in a Gazette, before I quitted Malta, that dear old George has received the brevet rank of major. I congratulate him a thousand times. It is a feather in his cap, for he has had sharp work in Holland. I hope he is, ere this, with you in England, and that before two months are over, we may all meet and rejoice at the conclusion of a war which has so long deprived us of all domestic felicity, and been so productive of misery to suffering Europe. How thankful our family ought to be, that in a war, sanguinary beyond precedent, three sons whom you have had fighting their country's battles, have all escaped the sword, and will, I trust, return to you, with some small portion of credit, I hope, and at least the consciousness of having done their duty. Oh, my dear father, how proud I feel that I am an Englishman, and have lived to see my country in her present exalted state. A long inglorious peace will be the consequence, and I shall get my flag when I am no longer fit for command. Never mind. I hope to see my dear mother and all hands at Godwick in the middle of June. As I am only a passenger in the Cerberus, with a very good fellow, an old Adriatic cruiser, I shall be able to join you directly we are out of quarantine; but I am recommended Cheltenham for a fortnight: however, we will talk over these matters when we meet. God bless you, my dear father. The last I heard of Yonge was by a letter dated the 29th of March. He was then waiting for me at Trieste, that we might go home together by land. My illness has, however, put that voyage aside; and I suppose he has, ere this, set out without me: he was quite well. My best love to all, and believe me, dearest father, ever your affectionate son, W. HOSTE. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By fairy hands their knell is rung, COLLINS. |