20th February: At Gravesend.-My last farewells are over, my last adieus are waved to friends on shore, and I am alone on board the ship 'Yorkshire, ' bound for Melbourne. Everything is in confusion on board. The decks are littered with stores, vegetables, hen-coops, sheep-pens, and coils of rope. There is quite a little crowd of sailors round the capstan in front of the cabin door. Two officers, with lists before them, are calling over the names of men engaged to make up our complement of hands, and appointing them to their different watches