much I think of you all-how ardently I desire to hear from you and see you. My time passes more pleasantly than ever I anticipated. I read, and sew, and converse at intervals :-rise early in the morning-retire early at night. I find Mr. N. to be every thing I could wish. He not only acts the part of a kind, affectionate friend, but likewise that of a careful, tender physician.

March 20. I often think of many ways in which I could have contributed to your comfort and happiness, and that of my other dear friends, while with you. My mother, my dear mother, can you, will you forgive me for causing you so much pain, as I surely have in the course of my life, and for making you so few returns for the unwearied care, and kindness you have ever shown me. I think that if your heart is fixed, trusting in God, you will find consolation when thinking of my present situation: you will be unspeakably happy in commending me to God and the word of his grace, in praying for my usefulness in heathen lands.

March 21. A large porpoise was taken yesterday. I will describe this curious fish to you. I have had, for two or three days, a return of my old complaint, a severe head-ache. I ascribe it, in some measure, to the confined air of our room. I often think of your large cool chambers, when I

awake, these extremely hot mornings. But this is a light trial.

March 22. I have spent the greater part of this holy day on deck, reading, singing, conversing, &c. I hope this has been a profitable and joyful Sabbath to my dear mother.

O how ardently do I long again to frequent the courts of my God, and hear from his ambassadors the joyful sound of the glorious gospel. But though in a humbler manner, yet I trust we find his grace displayed towards us, while meeting for his worship. The weather is hot in the extreme-we are within a few days sail of the line. I have not found a stove necessary more than once or twice since I left the harbour. The weather has been much warmer than I anticipated. But we keep pretty comfortable in the air.

March 23. O how welcome would be some of Mama's cold water, or a cup of her coffee, with milk in it, I do not say cream! But we have every necessary which is possible on the ocean. I am thankful, I feel no disposition to complain. I have for the most part of the time since we sailed, enjoyed a great degree of real happiness. The everlasting God is my refuge.

March 24. Mr. N. often regrets that he had no more time to spend with you, previous to our departure. He often says, "Harriet, how I long to

see your dear mother." We often look the way where capt. H. tells us Haverhill lies. But alas! a vast ocean and the blue sky is all we can see. But there is a land, my dear mother, where stormy seas cannot divide the friends of Jesus. There I

hope to meet you, and all my beloved friends, to whom on earth I have bid adieu. Oh that, when the followers of the Lamb, are collected from the East and West, from the North and South, Harriet, an exile in a distant land, with her mother, father, brothers and sisters, may be united in the family of the Most High in heaven.

March 25. The weather is about as warm as the extremely hot weather in America last summer. We are told we shall not be likely to suffer more from the heat in Bengal than we do now. We do not go more than a mile an hour. Are within 160 miles of the equator. This is dear little Emily's birth day. Sweet child-will she ever forget her absent sister Harriet, whom once she loved? O no-I will not for one moment indulge the thought. I cannot bear to think of losing a place in the remembrance of friends so dear.

March 26. My attachment to the world has greatly lessened since I left my country, and with it all the honours, pleasures and riches of life. Yes, Mama, I feel this morning like a pilgrim and a traveller in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is.

Heaven is my home-there I trust my weary soul will sweetly rest, after a tempestuous voyage across the ocean of life. I love to think of what I shall shortly be, when I have finished my heavenly Father's work on earth. How sweet the thoughts of glory, while I wander here in this waste wilderness. I still contemplate the path into which I have entered with pleasure, although replete with trials, under which, nothing but sovereign grace can support me. I have at times the most ardent desires to see you, and my other dear friends. These desires, for the moment, are almost insupportable. But when I think seriously of the object of my undertaking, and the motives which first induced me to give up all and enter upon it, I enjoy a sweet serenity of mind; a satisfaction, which the heaviest trials cannot destroy. The sacrifices which I have made, are great indeed; but the light of Immanuel's countenance can enliven every dreary scene, and make the path of duty pleasant. Should I, at some future period, be destitute of one sympathizing friend, in a foreign, sickly clime, I shall have nothing to fear. When earthly friends forsake me, then "the Lord will take me up." No anticipated trials ought to make me anxious; for I know that I can do and suffer all things, "through Christ, who strengtheneth me." In his hands I leave the direction of every event, knowing that he,

who is infinitely wise and good, can do me no

wrong.

March 29. We crossed the equator last night. The weather still continues excessively hot.Heavy gales of wind, and repeated showers of rain, rendering it necessary for the captain and officers to be on deck, we had no religious exercises in the cabin.

March 31. It is six weeks, this evening, since we came on board the Caravan. How rapidly have the days, the weeks glided away. Thus, my dear mother, will this short life pass. Why then do our thoughts dwell so much upon a short separation, when there is a world, where the friends of Jesus will never part more.

April 1. Three sharks caught to-day. In their frightful appearance, they far exceeded the description I have often heard given of them.

April 7. The weather grows colder, as we draw nearer the Cape. Some Cape birds are flying around us, called Albatrosses. They are very pretty birds, about the size of geese. We have had our room a little enlarged, which renders it pleasanter and cooler. We can now sit there, and read, with comfort.

May 1. Again, my ever dear mother, I devote a few leisure moments to you, and my beloved brothers and sisters. The winds and the waves are