JOURNAL,

DURING HER VOYAGE TO INDIA;

Addressed to her Mother.

CHAPTER VI.

March 9, 1812.-To you, my beloved mother, shall these pages be cheerfully dedicated. If they afford you amusement in a solitary hour-if they are instrumental in dissipating one anxious sensation from your heart, I shall be doubly rewarded for writing. Whatever will gratify a mother so valuable as mine, shall here be recorded, however uninteresting it might be to a stranger.

The first week after our embarkation, I was confined to my bed with sea-sickness. This was a gloomy week. But my spirits were not so much depressed as I once expected they would be. The attendants were obliging, and I had every convenience which I could wish on board a vessel.-February 24th, the vessel sprung a leak. We were in the greatest danger of sinking during the night. The men laboured almost constantly at the pump. Capt. H. thought it best to alter the course of the Caravan, 159

and make directly for St. Jago. The wind changed in the morning. In a day or two the leak was providentially discovered, and prevented from doing any further injury. Though much fatigued, sleep departed from me. It was indeed an interesting night. Though a sudden exit from life appeared more solemn than ever before; yet I felt a sweet complacency in confiding in God, and in leaving the disposal of my life with him.

"We have no family worship, which we consider a great affliction. Sabbath forenoon, Mr. N. or brother J. reads a sermon, and performs the other exercises of worship, in the cabin. The captain and officers favour us with their attendance. I have found much enjoyment at these seasons. I often think of my American friends, who are blessed with the privilege of attending statedly on the means of grace. My thoughts were particularly fixed on my brethren and sisters the first Sabbath in March. I thought that our dear pastor would not forget to intercede with God for an absent sister, while sitting at the communion table, where I have often had a seat. I shall devote much of my time to reading while on the water. There is but little variety in a sea life. I have noticed with pleasure, that many little articles which I accidentally brought with me, have contributed much to my comfort.

We have had contrary winds and calms for ten days past, which will make our voyage longer. How can it be that I wish for those winds that will waft me further from my dear mother, and all that I love in my much loved native country. Surely the wish does not originate in the want of affection for friends.

March 10. We have prayers regularly, every evening, in brother J.'s room, which is larger and more convenient than ours. We have met a brig bound to America, as we imagine, but on account of contrary winds, which would render it difficult to come near enough to speak with her, she has proceeded on her passage.-This is the second vessel that we have seen at a distance, going direct to America; but I have not been favoured with the privilege of sending letters to you. O, how ardently do I long to tell you, just how I am now situated, and that I am contented and happy. It is very difficult writing to day, on account of the constant motion of the vessel. The wind is favourable, we go nearly seven miles an hour.

March 12. A heavy sea to-day ;—the waves have repeatedly broken on deck and rushed with violence down into the cabin. Our room has not yet been

wet.

March 14. I have just seen the mate and sailors take a turtle. They went out in a boat two or three

miles, and took it by surprise with their hands. It weighs about twenty pounds. I have been agreeably disappointed respecting our manner of living at sea, though we are not free from inconveniences by any means.

March 16. Yesterday morning religious exerci ses were performed, as usual, in the cabin. Several pages in Law's Serious Call, read. My thoughts dwell on home, and my much loved country, more intensely on the Sabbath, than on any other day. The sun rises four hours earlier here than at Haverhill. At one, I think you are going to church. Dined on Turtle-soup yesterday. Saw a flying fish to-day-breakfasted upon it. Several gales of wind last evening. I do not know why it is, that I do not suffer more from fear than I do. Cousin J. will tell you, how dreary every thing appears in a dark evening, when the wind blows hard, and the vessel seems to be on the point of turning over. But we have been highly favoured: the weather has generally been remarkably pleasant.

March 17. I have just seen a third vessel, bound, as we have every reason to think, to dear America. We came so near her as to see the men walking on deck but Capt. H. received particular orders to speak with no vessel on the passage. I have a great desire to send you, my dear mother, some communication. But this gratification I must give up.

Five weeks, yesterday, since I bid you a last adieu. O that you may never, for one moment, regret that you gave me up, to assist in so great, so glorious a work. I want more faith, more spirituality, more engagedness in so good a cause. Possessed of these blessings, I shall be happy, while crossing the tempestuous ocean, and when I become an inhabitant of heathen Asia.

March 18. I am sometimes almost sick, for the want of exercise. I walk fast on the deck three times a day, which is the only exercise I take. We are now more than 3000 miles from home—or, rather, about 12,000 miles from home. But I shall ever find a melancholy pleasure in calling my mother's house in Haverhill, my home, though the Atlantic floods roll between. Long may the best of Heaven's blessings rest upon the dwelling where I have spent my playful years in peace, and where, in riper age, I have known what blest tranquillity is, by happy experience. Long may my beloved mother, and dear brothers and sisters, enjoy the blessing of my heavenly Father, and be strangers to affliction and woe.

March 19. It is excessively warm to-day. We are now in the torrid zone; while my dear mother, brothers and sisters are probably shivering over a large fire, I am sitting with the windows and door open, oppressed with heat. You know not how