more than I should want; for I did not calculate upon being many years an inhabitant of this globe. I had some money, I had my Bible, and a very large collection of the letters of my Eliza, in which I took much delight; and, upon the whole, I fancied myself rather rich, than otherwise. In this state of resignation, indifference, or insensibility, I passed the greater part of the voyage.
As we drew near the coast of America, I experienced none of those delightful sensations, which swelled my bosom, a few years before on returning to England from Ireland; neither did I experience those terrifying apprehensions, for which there was such abundant reason, on advancing to an unknown country, without patron, or friend. My mind was calm and unruffled, neither elated by hope, nor depressed by fear. I had obtained precisely that situation, for which I had supplicated heaven, when entering upon this untried state of being, humbly depending upon that God, who was in every place the same unchanging friend of the creature, whom he had made. I was, as it were, between two worlds; one I had tried, and, finding it contained more of bitter, than of sweet, I had turned from it with disgust. I advanced toward the other, without high-raised expectations, without fearful apprehensions. I was pleased with the wonders of my God, as I beheld them in the great deep; I was amazed at the variety of its inhabitants, yet how small a part could I trace. I was astonished at the number of birds, flitting over the ocean; and I thought, if provision was made for them, I had no reason for fear. On a brilliant moonlight evening, our ship struck on something, which threw us off our seats! What could it be? we were in the centre of the Western ocean. We soon discovered it was a sleeping whale; we also beheld the water-spout, so often described, as a surprising phenomenon. Thus was my wondering mind beguiled of its sorrows. We saw a number of vessels on our way, some passing to the country we had left; my heart sighed, as they pursued their course, and I frequently, and audibly exclaimed, Dear native country, never more to be seen by me! nor was the exclamation unaccompanied by a tear.
We were, as it was supposed, within three days sail of New-York, when we met a vessel, bound for England. Our merchant questioned the captain, respecting the state of public affairs in America. The Americans had, some time before, entered into the non-importation agreement, and our merchant was anxious, on account of the goods he had on board. The captain assured him, they had given up the agreement in Philadelphia, but that they zealously adhered to it in New-
