“We found it exceedingly hot the first time that we crossed the equator. When going round the Cape of Good Hope, we had rough, rainy weather for twenty days. I never knew till then “the dangers of the deep.” I never felt before, my entire dependence on God for preservation. Some nights I never slept on account of the rocking of the vessel and the roaring of the winds. Yet God preserved us—enabled us to trust in him and feel safe. Surely we have every reason to confide in God, and leave it with him to dispose of us as he pleases. We have again crossed the equator, and are within a few days’ sail of Calcutta. My heart rejoices at the thought of once more seeing land. Yes, even the thought of seeing the land of strangers and heathenish darkness, produces sensations before unknown. We know not where we shall go, or in what part of God’s world we shall spend our remaining days. But I feel willing to leave it all with our heavenly Father. I doubt not he will protect us, and place us in that station in which we shall be most useful. I have spent the most of my time, since on the water, in reading. I knew I needed a more intimate acquaintance with the sacred Scriptures ; consequently, I have confined my attention almost exclusively to them. I have read the New Testament once through in course, two volumes of Scott’s Commentary on the Old, Paley, Trumbull, and Dick, on the inspiration of the Scriptures, together with Faber and Smith on the Prophecies. I have been much interested in reading these authors on inspiration, on account of my almost total ignorance of the evidences of the divinity of the Scriptures, and I gained fresh evidence of the reality of the Christian religion. O my dear Lydia, how much enjoyment Christians lose by neglecting to study the Bible. The more we are conversant with it, the more shall we partake of the spirit of its author, and the more we shall feel that this world is not our home, and that we are rapidly hastening to another.”
“May 24. Sabbath. We have had worship, as usual, in the cabin. The subject of the sermon was lukewarmness in religion. I felt, that a great part of it was applicable to myself. I am confounded, when I consider the indifference, with which I have regarded and treated so great a being as God. How little ardour I have felt in the cause of Christ, and how little zeal have I manifested for his glory. Under the impression of the truths of this sermon, I renewedly commend myself to God, all unholy and polluted as I am, and beg that he will sanctify me, and make me more engaged in his blessed service. We are now near the place of our destination—just ready to enter a strange land, where all are unknown to us, and we to them; and where we shall at once be exposed to the influence of an unhealthy climate. We know not the manner in which we shall be received, nor the place of our final residence. All the future is involved in dark uncertainty. But God is good in bringing us into circumstances, where we are compelled to trust in him. God is every where, and is ever ready to hear our cries, and succour us in our distresses.”
To her Sister.
“At Sea, June 16.
“My dear Sister A——,
“Instead of beginning to fill your letter immediately after we sailed, I have left it to begin to fill it when our voyage is nearly completed. I have written to mamma and sister E. the particulars respecting my voyage thus far ; consequently, it is unnecessary for me now to say any more. Day before yesterday, we came in sight of land, after being out only one hundred and twelve days. We could distinguish nothing on land except the towering mountains of Golconda. Yesterday morning, we were nearer land, and could easily discover the trees on the shore. Some appeared to be placed regularly in rows, others were irregular and scattered. The scene was truly delightful, and reminded me of the descriptions I have read, of the fertile shores of India—the groves of orange and palm trees. I likewise thought it probable, that these shores were inhabited by a race of beings, by nature like ourselves, but who, not like us, are ignorant of the God who made them, and the Saviour who died for them. Yesterday we saw two vessels. One was a large ship, and the captain thought it to be a British man-of-war, as she was lying still till we came up with her. As soon as she hoisted the flag, we found her to be an American. We had high hopes of her being the vessel in which the other Missionaries sailed. With impatience we came up with her. She hailed us, and wished to know our longitude. Our captain asked her name, and where she was from, and to our great disappointment we found she was not the Harmony. You have no idea how interesting the sight—a vessel at the side of us, so near we could hear the captain speak—for he was the first person we have heard speak since we sailed, except what belong to the ship. The other was an English vessel—she spoke with us to-day. We are now at anchor in the Bay of Bengal, and dare not go any farther to-night, as we have not yet got a pilot. Every thing before us is uncertain. Whether we shall ever again be on land, or where we shall live, is known only to our heavenly Father.
“Monday. We have been very anxious this morning to get a pilot. At length a vessel was seen at a distance, and it proved to be a pilot vessel. He has just this moment come on board, with his two servants. One of them a Hindoo. He exactly answers the description we have had of these poor benighted creatures. He looks as simple and feminine as you can imagine. What an alteration would a belief in Christianity make in such a degraded creature. If we have a favourable wind, we hope to get to Calcutta to-morrow. O how soon will our labours in the mission begin ! Yet we are happy, the time is so near when we may begin to labour for Christ in a pagan land.
“Tuesday. Last night was the most dangerous, and to me, by far the most unpleasant we have had. The navigation here being dangerous, on account of the sand-shoals, the pilot came to anchor before dark. The sea was high, and kept the vessel in continual motion. About ten, the mate came down, and told us the cable had parted, and the anchor gone. I thought all hope of our safety was entirely gone, and immediately began to enquire into my preparedness for an entrance into another world. The thought of being shipwrecked was exceedingly distressing : and I could not but think the providence of God would preserve us on account of this infant mission. In him I confided, and he preserved us. They got the ship under way; and the pilot being well acquainted with the shoals, we met with no difficulty. I slept none at all, in consequence of the continual noise, and profane language on deck. The captain has never used any profane language since we have been with him ; but the pilot, much more than we have ever heard before. But the scene is now truly delightful. We are sailing up the river Hoogly, a branch of the Ganges, and so near the land, that we can distinctly discover objects. On one side of us are the Sunderbunds—[islands at the mouths of the Ganges.] The smell which proceeds from them, is fragrant beyond description. We have passed the mango trees, and some large brick houses.
“Wednesday. I have never, my dear sister, witnessed or read any thing so delightful as the present scene. On each side of the Hoogly, where we are now sailing, are the Hindoo cottages, as thick together as the houses in our seaports. They are very small, and in the form of hay-stacks, without either chimneys or windows. They are situated in the midst of trees, which hang over them, and appear truly romantic. The grass and fields of rice are perfectly green, and herds of cattle are every where feeding on the banks of the river, and the natives are scattered about, differently employed. Some are fishing, some driving the team, and many are sitting indolently on the banks of the river. The pagodas we have passed are much handsomer and larger than the houses. Notwithstanding the scene is so pleasant, on account of the works of nature, yet it is truly melancholy