and pray that you are enjoying the same blessing. Good-night, old boy! Latitude 21 deg. 50 min. S., longitude 1 deg. E.
Thursday, 36th.— All of this day we have light airs and calms, and have made but little distance. There are but two sails in sight to-day; one of them is the same one that we gained on the 20th. The land, by our reckoning, is about sixty miles distant, and I hope that we will come to anchor to-morrow. Everybody seems to be in good spirits today. I suppose it is because we are close to port, and I would give considerable if it were New Bedford instead of St. Helena, and that you were here with us; but perhaps it is all for the best as it is, and I trust God that it is, old fellow. Good-night and God bless you! Our latitude is about 16 deg. 20 min., and longitude 5 deg. W.
Saturday, 28th.—This morning we came at anchor, and we find that the Sapphire has not been here as yet, and as everything is quiet and no danger, I hope she will come in before we leave The day that we came at anchor there were fifteen ships anchored here, thirteen merchantmen, the whaling bark Ohio, and the old Gazelle; and now, old fellow, as I cannot think of anything else to write that will interest you, I will bid you adieu, and lay this book aside for the present, for it makes me lonesome every time that I write in it. My prayer is that the old Sapphire will have favorable winds and make a speedy passage, and that you may be fortunate enough when you arrive in England to get a ship bound direct to America. Good-by, old fellow, and may God in his infinite mercy watch over and bless you!
November 9.—Dear old fellow, it is my dog watch below, and I have spent most of it in playing the flutina, and reading over some of your poetry, but I will improve the few moments that are left me in adding another line or two to this. I hope and pray, old boy, that before this time you have sodded your hoof on Yankee shores, and I wish that I were there with you (yet. Thy will be done, O God! not mine). The old man has been in here this evening, showing me some abstract of a right whale voyage, and he has asked for my opinion about going there, but I gave him no encouragement, knowing that if we leave here we will lose our letters again. Oh, dear, I wish this voyage was over! I haven't had a letter from home for sixteen months, and I have got the blues like old boots, so I will bid you a good-night, and light a cigar and go on deck, and tramp, tramp, tramp away, and build castles. Lat. 34 deg. S., long. 50 deg. W.
November 25.—Again I am seated by my old donkey, with pen in hand, to scratch another line or two. I have been reading to Mr. Bryan a political piece which I found in an English paper, and I tell you what, he is raving mad. He has got one of his old political fits on, and I would that you might see him now. The piece is about a Mr. Roebuck, an English orator, and, when I left Mr. Bryan on deck about