with [sic] the largest company of Ordained miſsionaries which ever embarked from America for a heathen land.
You will naturally inquire “How did you feel when the ship left the wharf and you knew you had actually set foot for the last time on American Shores?” I wish I could say with some who have gone before “It was the happiest day of my life,” but this I cannot do. No, my brethren, the almost insupportable fatigues and anxieties which had been my lot for the previous six weeks, had so exhausted both body and mind as to render my religious exercises but too indifferent. Yet far from being unhappy, it was to me a welcome a happy hour. Yes when we sang “Bear me on thou restleſs ocean &c.etc.,” it was with emotions that never before filled my bosom. I had time only to scribble a few hasty lines to my honored Father in Canada before the pilot boat returned. This was all I wrote after I reached Boston until I left. —
About 4 P.M. I went on deck to cast one last lingering look upon the receding hills of the land of my fathers – land now more than ever dear to my heart. Already they had faded to the appearance of a dusky cloud resting upon the distant horizon. Soon they sunk beneath the blue waves of “this great and wide sea.” The swells producing considerable motion of the veſsel we nearly all of us began to experience that unpleasant sensation termed Sea-sickneſs. Of this I shall not attempt a description of this annoyer of the happineſs of the inexperienced voyager and if you feel are curious to be acquainted with it, come on, experience it; this is the only way of obtaining correct notions concerning Sea-sickneſs. ‘Tis not beyond endurance!
Many new and curious things command the attention during a first voyage at sea. On the 23rd we were entertained with a view of several black fishes (Monsters from 15 to 20 ft. in length, & some 8 or 10 ft. around the thickest part of the body!) sporting at a short distance from us.
Frid. 25th In the Gulfstream W. Long. 64º16’ about 358 miles from Boston. Brisk wind and a rough sea – Sickneſs which had nearly subsided, again returned upon our Company with increased intensity. From this time to the 30th when we cleared the G. Stream we were in a pitiful plight. Poor Steward (Peter Osborn a colored man the same who went in the Cashmere) and the cabin boy (Henry Rice, a Russian youth) had their hands full. Yet on the whole there was a good degree of cheerfulneſs. – For my own part, notwithstanding the deep interest I have formerly felt in the return of the last Frid. evening of the month, this came with but little satisfaction. Too sick to observe either the day or evening as I used to do. I did however endeavor to spend a portion of the evening in prayer relative to Miſsions. – After the real sea-sickneſs subsided, such a languour oppreſsed me, (and it was general in our company) that the active exercise of religion seemed almost beyond my reach. I now experienced the force of the exhortation of the Brethren who were out last year not to delay seeking for deep personal piety until entering on the voyage with the expectation that then all obstructions to a close walk with God will be removed. For I can aſsure you, my dear brethren, when rocking upon the billows of the “great deep,” enervated with seasickneſs, – under circumstances wholly different from any in previous life, perhaps naturally leading directly from God – when no bower, no lonely walk, no convenient undisturbed bedroom for reading, meditation and secret prayer, – nay, when even the darkneſs and silence of the midnight hour hiding from every eye but the eye of God,* I say when none of these can be enjoyed one finds it no easy matter to retain even his present standing, much more to make advancement in the divine life. Be aſsured, my beloved brethren, under such circumstances you will never regret the hours you may have spent in your closet, or your bower in prayer, and meditation on divine things, and especially in cultivating a close walk with God, and an unwavering confidence in him. —
But you seem to ask “how did you feel in relation to the sacrifice you have made of friends Country, &c.etc., &c.etc., and the prospect before you?” Did you not regret the step you had taken, and shrink from the future?” Allow me to say, never for a moment have I even to this day doubted that in leaving, and at the time I did, I acted in accordance with duty; and I have consequently been happy in the reflection.
As to prospects of the future, I may say however sick I have been, however stupid, the prospects of preaching Christ among the gentiles, has always been interesting. I prayed God before I started, and often since, that the cause of Miſsions, might not lose its interest to me during sea-sickneſs and thus far, bleſsed be his name, he has answered my prayer. Almost every thing else, at times was viewed with indifference: but this never. I do think, while I fear my communion with God is leſs intimate now than some time last year, I have nevertheleſs learned to confide more implicitly in him. I do now rejoice in present privileges and in future prospects.
While looking at myself – considering how little of miſsionary qualifications I poſseſs – how much is demanded – O my brethren, how can I but shrink at the responsibilities, the arduous labors, and the obstacles to be encountered. But there is a source of Comfort; Turning from myself and all earthly objects to the God of Miſsions, no room remains for fears and perplexities. At his bidding I enter upon his work, and I do not – I dare not distrust his faithful support. —
We who are members of the E. Aſsn aſsembled this evening in the Stern Cabin and conversed awhile then retired by threes to our state rooms for prayer. Although our our [sic] position east brings our 7 oclock several hours sooner than yours, yet the reflection that you too would soon be aſsembled in prayer for us and the Miſsn. cause
