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 masters of we picked out of some old English newspapers which were brought from the Cape of Good Hope about a twelvemonth back in the Sirius, by which ship you may possibly recollect to have received a letter from me, dated 1st October 1788: but as to all family news, all knowledge of our private affairs, or little endearing accounts which no man, I presume, is without a wish to receive, nothing but a blank for the long space of three years has been presented to us. But great as our anxiety on this head is, it falls short of what we suffer on another account. The dread of perishing by famine stares us in the face; on the day I write we have but eight weeks' provision in the public stores, and all chance of a reinforcement under seven months is cut off, unless ships from England should yet, notwithstanding the lateness of the season, come in upon us. The hope of this is, however, very feeble, for, without the most shameful and cruel inattention on your part, ships must have left England by the first of August last to come here: and if so, they have undoubtedly perished on their route. Even this alternative, dreadful as it is, is less inflicting than to believe that our country would send us out here as a sacrifice to famine and the savages of the place, who, if ever they shall by any means learn our situation, will prove extremely troublesome.' &hellip; Then the writer goes on to say that the 'pride, pomp and circumstance