Accompanied by her only daughter, she sailed in the ship "Active." Her journal at sea is so interesting, that detached portions are quoted.

"I have been sixteen days at sea, and have not attempted to write a single letter. 'Tis true, I have kept a journal whenever I was able; but that must be close locked up, unless I was sure to hand it you with safety. 'Tis said of the Roman Censor, that one of the three things which he regretted during his life was, going once by sea when he might have made his journey by land. I fancy the philosopher was not proof against that most disheartening, dispiriting malady, sea-sickness. Of this I am very sure, that no lady would ever wish a second time to try the sea, were the objects of her pursuit within the reach of a land journey. I have had frequent occasions, since I came on board, to recollect an observation of my best friend's, that no being in nature was so disagreeable as a lady at sea,' and this recollection has, in a great measure, reconciled me to the thought of being at sea without him; for one would not wish, my dear sister, to be thought of in that light by those to whom we would wish to appear in our best array. The decency and decorum of the most delicate female must, in some measure, yield to the necessities of nature; and if you have no female capable of rendering you the least assistance, you will feel grateful to any one who will feel for you, and relieve or compassionate your sufferings. And this was truly the case of your poor sister and all her female companions, when not one of us could make her own bed, put on or take off her

shoes, or even lift a finger. As to our other clothing, we wore the greater part of it until we were able to help ourselves.

"Added to this misfortune, Briesler, my man-servant, was as bad as any of us.

Our sickness continued for ten days, with some intermission. We crawled upon deck whenever we were able, but it was so cold and damp that we could not remain long upon it; and the confinement of the air below, the constant rolling of the vessel, and the nausea of the ship, which was much too tight, contributed to keep up our disease. The vessel is very deep-loaded with oil and potash. The oil leaks, the potash smokes and ferments. All adds to the flavor. When you add to all this the horrid dirtiness of the ship, the slovenliness of the steward, and the unavoidable slopping and spilling occasioned by the tossing of the ship, I am sure you will be thankful that the pen is not in the hand of Swift or Smollet, and still more so that you are far removed from the scene.

"'Tis not a little attention that we ladies stand in need of at sea; for it is not once in the twenty-four hours that we can cross the cabin without being held or assisted. Nor can we go upon deck without the assistance of two gentlemen; and, when there, we are always bound into our chairs. Whilst you, I imagine, are scorching under the midsummer heat, we can comfortably bear our double calico gowns, our baize ones upon them, and a cloth cloak in addition to all these.

"As to wind and weather since we came out, they have been very fortunate for us in general. We have had three calm days, and two days contrary winds— with a storm, I called it; but the sailors say it was only a breeze. This was upon the banks of Newfoundland, the wind at east; through the day we could not sit in our chairs, only as some gentleman sat by us with his arm fastened into ours, and his feet braced against a table or chair that was lashed down with ropes; bottles, mugs, plates, crashing to pieces, first on one side and then on the other; the sea running mountain-high, and knocking against the sides of the vessel as though it would burst them. When I became so fatigued with the incessant motion as not to be able to sit any longer, I was assisted into my cabin, where I was obliged to hold myself in with all my might the remainder of the night. No person who is a stranger to the sea can form an adequate idea of the debility occasioned by sea-sickness. The hard rocking of a ship in a storm, and the want of sleep for many nights, altogether reduce one to such a lassitude that you care little for your fate. The old seamen thought nothing of all this, nor once entertained. an idea of danger. Compared to what they have suf fered, I do suppose it was trifling; but to me it was alarming, and I most heartily prayed, if this was only a breeze, to be delivered from a storm. If the wind and weather continue as favorable as they have hitherto been, we expect to make our passage in thirty days, which is going a hundred miles a day. 'Tis a vast tract of ocean which we have to traverse.

I

have contemplated it with its various appearances. It is, indeed, a secret world of wonders, and one of the sublimest objects in nature.

"Thou mak'st the foaming billows roar,

Thou mak'st the roaring billows sleep.'

They proclaim the Deity, and are objects too vast for the control of feeble man. That Being alone who 'maketh the clouds His chariots, and rideth upon the wings of the wind,' is equal to the government of this stupendous part of creation."

"7th July, 1784.

"If I did not write every day, I should lose the days of the month and of the week; confined all day on account of the weather, which is foggy, misty, and wet. You can hardly judge how irksome this confinement is. When the whole ship is at our service, it is little better than a prison. We suppose ourselves near the Western Isles. O dear variety! how pleas ing to the human mind is change! I cannot find such a fund of entertainments within myself as not to re quire outward objects for my amusement. Nature abounds with variety, and the mind, unless fixed down by habit, delights in contemplating new objects; and the variety of scenes which present themselves to the senses were entirely designed to prevent our attention from being too long fixed upon any one object. 'This,' says a late celebrated medical writer, 'greatly conduces to the health of the animal frame. Your studious people and your deep thinkers,' he observes, 'seldom enjoy either health or spirits.'

"I went, last evening, upon deck, at the invitation of Mr. Foster, to view the phenomenon of na ture, a blazing ocean. A light flame spreads over the ocean, in appearance with thousands of thousands of sparkling gems, resembling our fire-flies in a dark night. It has a most beautiful appearance. I never view the ocean without being filled with ideas of the sublime.

แ

Monday we had a fair wind, but too much to be able to write, as it was right aft, and we pitched exceedingly, which is a motion more disagreeable to me than the rocking, though less fatiguing. On Tuesday a calm. Should you not suppose that in a calm we at least had the satisfaction of lying still? Alas! it is far otherwise, as my flesh and bones witness; a calm generally succeeds a storm or a fresh breeze; the sea has a great swell after the wind is silent, so that the ship lies entirely at the mercy of the waves, and is knocked from side to side with a force you can form no idea of without experience. I have been more wearied and worn out with the motion and exercise of a calm, than in riding fifty miles in a day. We have had three days in succession nearly calm; the first is the most troublesome, as the motion of the sea subsides in a degree. It is, however, a great trial of one's patience to think yourself within a few days of your desired spot, to look at it as the promised land, and yet to be held fast.

"Ye too, ye winds, I raise my voice to you.

In what far-distant region of the sky,

Hushed in deep silence, sleep you when 'tis calm ?'