that they had been so long accustomed to our small rooms.
I still went daily to the office as if nothing had occurred, but my mind was in a terrible state. To go, and leave my wife to the mercy of strangers, and at such an interesting time too, was very painful; to take her with me was to expose her to certain danger, for if there were no storms, no shipwrecks, yet sea-sickness might prove fatal. When I made up my mind to take her I reproached myself as being the most selfish of mortals, and when I finally concluded to leave her behind, her death knell rung in my ears. Most sincerely did I wish that the hated letter had never been found. It became at length the subject of discussion, that is, with me. My opinion was asked on several points, and answers were wrung from me; but there seemed one thing certain in my wife's mind, that although I might not decide on her going with me, yet I could not but choose to go. She never questioned it.
I fell to reading the biography of voyagers to see how the females of their party bore the perils of the sea, and then I made many inquiries as to their perils on shore, even with the tenderness of a husband to sustain them. Recollect, my friends, that this beloved being was my only tie on earth, and that without her, existence would be a burden. I was not going rashly to decide on her fate and mine; it was therefore but consistent with the love I bore her to weigh well the difficulties on either side. She, too, had thought of every thing, and her mind was made up at once—and that was to go with me. "I have but this to say, dearest husband," said she at the beginning, and her mind underwent no change, "if we are permitted to go safely, we shall be a comfort to one another throughout the voyage and on shore; but if other-
