African-American Religion: A Documentary History Project
Continental Phase
Sample Documents

     In November 1822, a young black woman named Betsey Stockton joined a company of missionaries sailing forth from New Haven, Connecticut, to the Sandwich Islands, now Hawaii. These missionaries were sent out by the American Board of Commissioners of Foreign Missions, an agency primarily serving the Congregational and Presbyterian churches in the United States, which was at the forefront of American Protestantism’s burgeoning interest in foreign missions. It was the Board’s third overseas undertaking and followed those to Bombay in 1812 and Ceylon in 1816.1 The Sandwich Islands, so named by Captain Cook in 1778, had been since the early 1800s a popular calling station of American whalemen and already had a number of white and a few black settlers, many but not all, ex-seamen. Betsey Stockton joined the second group of missionaries to go to Hawaii, the first having arrived two years before. Besides Stockton, there were six couples and a single man, all white, plus three Hawaiian men and a Tahitian. The trip took five months, with no stopovers, and like others on board she kept a journal of the voyage and her first couple of months in Hawaii, a journal of events at sea and her state of mind.

     Betsey Stockton joined the company partly as a missionary and partly as a servant to one of the couples, the Reverend and Mrs. Charles S. Stewart, who were expecting a child. Her contract with the American Board made clear that she was not to be treated simply as a servant but was also to share with others the mission’s primary work, that is, to teach. When she decided to become a missionary she was in her twenties, working in the family of Ashbel Green, who since 1812 had been the president of the College of New Jersey, later Princeton University. Probably born in 1798, she had come into the household as a child slave belonging to his wife, the former Elizabeth Stockton, whose father Robert Stockton, a wealthy landowner in Princeton, had been Betsey’s original owner. Elizabeth (Stockton) Green died in 1807, but Betsey stayed on.2

     In 1816, during a religious upsurge in Princeton that had begun at the college the year before,3 Betsey Stockton experienced a conversion. She had recently returned to the Green household after working in the family of a nephew of Ashbel Green’s, also a minister, for three years. According to Green, she had been till the age of thirteen or fourteen “wild and thoughtless,” the reason he had sent her to live with his nephew. But after her return, he said, she “met with a saving change of heart” during the summer of 1816.4 In September of that year, according to church records, her application for admission to the First Presbyterian Church in Princeton was formally approved.5 Around that same time Ashbel Green freed her, an act unusual for the time in New Jersey: an 1804 law requiring the gradual emancipation of slaves was not to take effect until 1825, effectively keeping the process so gradual that even by the start of the Civil War in 1861 there were still some New Jersey blacks held in slavery.6 Because Betsey Stockton was born before 1804, she could have stayed a slave her life long, but instead she worked in the household as a paid domestic servant. She also read in Green’s library, studied with one of his sons, and went to Sabbath school.

     Africa was where she wanted to go at first, but according to her Sabbath school teacher, her friends dissuaded her,7 and the opportunity of joining a group of missionaries to the Hawaiian islands then arose. A new Princeton Seminary graduate converted during the 1815 awakening was Charles S. Stewart, who visited Green in September 1821 with the idea of joining the new mission in the Sandwich Islands. The idea of having Betsey Stockton accompany Stewart came up, and Ashbel Green wrote letters of recommendation for the two of them. Stockton’s Sabbath school teacher, Michael Osborn, wrote another for her.8

     The letters, besides explaining Stockton’s personal history, also convey the range of her mind. Osborn describes her as “pious, intelligent, industrious, skilful in the management of domestic affairs[,] apt to teach, and endued with a large portion of the active, persevering, self-sacrificing, spirit of a missionary,” and notes that she “has a larger acquaintance with sacred history and the mosaic Institutions, than almost any ordinary person, old or young, I have ever known (by ordinary person you will understand me to mean such as are not clergymen or candidates for the ministry).” She has been studying with a view to taking charge of a school for black children, and Osborn comments that “[h]er knowledge of geography is respectable, she has conquered the larger part of murray’s english grammar, writes a legible hand, and is now cyphering in compound multiplication.”9 Green’s letter pays more attention to her domestic skills—“her services have been so valuable that I shall regret to lose them,” he says wistfully. But he too notes her “great aptitude for mental improvement”: “She reads extremely well; and few of her age and sex have read more books on religion than she; or can give a better account of them. She has no small share of miscellaneous reading, and has a real taste for literature. She understands Geography and English grammer, pretty well. She composes in English, in a manner that is very uncommon for one of her standing in society. She is tolerably skilled in arithmatick.”10 Both writers point out her color—Osborn refers to her as “mullatoe,” Green as “colored”—but neither comments on whether her color would be an advantage or disadvantage for her missionary work.

     Over the next year after the letters went in Charles Stewart had to raise money for his journey and residence in the Sandwich Islands, and Green later recalled that Stockton saved her wages to outfit herself for the expedition, Green making a contribution as well.11 Though the Board paid a significant amount of the expenses of these missions, the missionaries themselves had to help. In June 1822, Stewart married, and in October he came to Princeton to make the final arrangements with Stockton. In the course of the visit, the contract regarding her employment was drawn.

     Although Stockton was the first non-white woman to be a missionary in the Sandwich Islands, it was more her status as a servant that made her situation problematic and one the contract addresses. Ashbel Green had made the point in his earlier letter of recommendation that Stockton was an excellent nurse, and by this time Charles Stewart presumably knew his new wife was pregnant—a healthy baby was born six months later. But Green had pointed out that Stockton was also “well qualified for higher employment in a mission, than domestick drudgery.”12 Not that it was the case that domestic work was beneath the dignity of missionary women: at that time, all the missionary women were expected to do domestic work, and none in the first companies to the Sandwich Islands brought servants. The issue was not that Stockton wanted entirely to avoid domestic work, but only that she also be able to take on the teaching duties that all the women did, that she not be confined to nursing, child care, and household tasks. Her color, of course, meant that she was at risk of being viewed as only a servant. The contract identified her as a “colored young woman brought up in the family of the Rev. Ashbel Green,” noted that she was to be “specially attached” to the Stewart family, and said that “she is to be regarded & treated neither as an equal nor as a servant—but as an humble christian friend, embarked in the great enterprise of endeavoring to ameliorate the condition of the heathen generally, & especially to bring them to the saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus.” Green, Stewart, and Stockton signed the contract on October 24, 1822, Jeremiah Evarts endorsed it for the American Board on November 18th, four days before the ship sailed, and Levi Chamberlain, a fellow missionary, made a copy to carry to Hawaii.13

     Betsey Stockton’s diary begins the day after the departure of the ship from New Haven, Connecticut, and among its themes is her relief at being treated respectfully by her companions.14 She points out the seating arrangements for meals—two tables, one with the captain, a mate, and nine of the missionaries, the other with two mates, three missionaries, the four natives, and herself—but notes that despite the distinction between the captain’s table and hers the food is the same at both tables; that she gets an equal portion; and even that Mr. and Mrs. Stewart divided their last apple and orange into three pieces so she could have a share (entry of January 8, 1823). Her relations with the Stewarts strengthen, those with others on board seem relaxed, and by the time they reach Hawaii Betsey Stockton is apparently a fully accepted member of the company.

     The ship followed a southeasterly course across the Atlantic, sailing between the Cape Verde Islands and the African coast, then southwest toward Argentina and around Cape Horn past Chile and northwest to Hawaii. Besides her contentment with the social arrangements, Stockton’s diary conveys her somewhat turbulent, occasionally agonized, inner spiritual life (entries of November 23, 24, December 1, 30, 1822, January 5, February 6, March 24–25, 1823), and her concern, often amused, with the spiritual state of the seamen (entries of February, March 10, 30, 1823). Recurrent in the diary is her thoroughgoing interest in the natural world, including the kinds of fish caught (December 23, 31, 1822), the colors of the sea and its phosphorescence (December 31, 1822), and the bird life (February 9, 1823). She enjoys her adventures, sleeping in a hammock (December 24, 1822), being hit by a wave (February 1823), and a mid-ocean boat ride around their ship (April 2, 1823). When Mrs. Stewart gives birth at sea on April 11, 1823, Betsey Stockton is her midwife, and takes great satisfaction in the event and the new baby boy.

     Like others on board she is frightened at her first sight of the Hawaiian men who come out in canoes to greet the ship: “half man and half beast—naked—except a narrow strip of tapa round their loins” (April 24, 1823). “The ladies,” she writes, “retired to the cabin, and burst into tears; some of the gentlemen turned pale: my own soul sickened with me, and every nerve trembled.” But then she tells herself, “they are men and have souls.” The Hawaiians who came with them soon acted as translators, and Betsey thinks to bring the two-week-old baby on deck, which brings a delighted response and seals the good will all around.

     The company disembarks and stays at the main mission settlement in Honolulu, or Honoruru as it was then spelled. She visits several times with Anthony Allen, a black settler from the Albany, New York, area, who tells her he has never in his twenty years there seen “a colored female”: his wife is a Hawaiian. After two weeks the new missionaries agree to move on to other islands, the Stewarts and Stockton heading with another couple to Lahaina on the island of Maui, a three-day sail from Honolulu, and moving into a house found for them by an American resident there. The diary concludes with the visit of the Hawaiian king to Maui and on June 29, 1823, of Stockton being asked by the queen to sit next to her, even though they could barely understand each other’s language. The next day one of the king’s sons asks her to teach him English, and Stockton immediately starts a school with ten students, English and Hawaiian.

     Betsey Stockton’s career as a missionary was short-lived. Her work in Hawaii ended two years later. Mrs. Stewart became ill after the birth of a second child, and between caring for the family and maintaining a school, Betsey Stockton found her life very tiring. Their residence in Maui was interrupted by lengthy visits to Honolulu, and when Mrs. Stewart’s health failed to improve, they all decided to return to the States, arriving in 1826. Still, the school Stockton had established at Lahaina, Maui, went on: it was, she said, a school for “the Makeainana, or lower class of people,”15 and a missionary who came shortly after successfully took it over.

     Once home again, she lived for brief periods with the Stewarts before and after Mrs. Stewart’s death in 1830, but teaching became the center of her life: an infant school in Philadelphia, a brief stint among Indians at Grape Island, Canada, near New York state, and for thirty years from 1835 to 1865, as founder, director, and active teacher in schools in the black community of Princeton, N.J. She was also a leader in the organizing of the black members of the Presbyterian church in Princeton into a separate congregation in 1840, helping to create the First Presbyterian Church of Colour, renamed the Witherspoon Street Church in 1848. She never married but stayed in touch with Charles Stewart and his son, the baby born at sea. In 1860 the son bought her a house in Princeton, close to the church.16 She died in Princeton on October 24, 1865, and was buried in the Stewart plot in Cooperstown, N.Y.17 The only known portrait of Stockton was taken probably in 1863, just two years before her death.18

     The following text of Betsey Stockton’s Hawaiian diary is based not on the original manuscript, which is not known to exist, but on a version published in installments by Ashbel Green in his periodical the Christian Advocate. Reports from the field were a major means of fueling the growth of interest in the American Board’s work. Letters and accounts of the missionaries in Bombay, Ceylon, and the Sandwich Islands appeared in newspapers and missionary journals, and churches in New England, New York, and the mid-Atlantic states regularly sent money and goods for the missions. Stockton’s diary (along with a number of her letters to Green not included here) were published in 1824 and 1825. How Green’s editing may have altered Stockton’s text is an open question.

     For a general view of the changing ideas that have informed the American Protestant missionary effort, including the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions’ work in Hawaii, see William R. Hutchison’s Errand to the World: American Protestant Thought and Foreign Missions (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1987). The archives of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions are in Houghton Library, Harvard University.

     Betsey Stockton’s life has been described in several accounts that each draw on somewhat different sources: (in order of publication) “Miss Betsey Stockton, Teacher,” Missionary Album: Portraits and Biographical Sketches of American Protestant Missionaries to the Hawaiian Islands, rev. and enlarged from editions of 1901 and 1937 (Honolulu: Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society, 1969), 186–87; “Betsey Stockton,” chapter 27 in Thomas French, The Missionary Whaleship (New York: Vantage Press, 1961), 112–19; John A. Andrew, III, “Betsey Stockton: Stranger in a Strange Land,” Journal of Presbyterian History 52, no. 2 (summer 1974): 157–66; Carol Santoki Dodd, “Betsey Stockton: A History Student’s Perspective,” Educational Perspectives (Journal of the College of Education, University of Hawaii) 16, no. 1 (March 1977): 10–15; Constance K. Escher, “She Calls Herself Betsey Stockton,” Princeton History, no. 10 (1991): 71–101 (the fullest history of her life to date); Eileen F. Moffett, “Betsey Stockton: Pioneer American Missionary,” International Journal of Missionary Research 19 (1995): 71–76. A summary account is Eileen F. Moffett, “Stockton, Betsey,” in Biographical Dictionary of Christian Missions, ed. Gerald H. Anderson (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), 643. As of February 2000, no book-length study of Betsey Stockton has been published.

     Information about Ashbel Green can be found in The Life Of Ashbel Green, V.D.M. Begun to Be Written by Himself in His Eighty-Second Year and Continued to His Eighty-Fourth, ed. Joseph H. Jones (New York: Robert Carter and Brothers, 1849); Mark A. Noll, “Ashbel Green and the New Regime: What Its Pious Founders Intended It to Be,” Chap. 13 in Princeton and the Republic, 1768–1822: The Search for a Christian Enlightenment in the Era of Samuel Stanhope Smith (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1989), 272–91. His papers are in the Ashbel Green Collection, Manuscripts Division, Rare Book and Special Collections, Princeton University Library.

     On slavery in New Jersey, see Graham Russell Hodges, Slavery and Freedom in the Rural North: African Americans in Monmouth County, New Jersey, 1665–1865 (Madison, Wis.: Madison House, 1997); Simeon Moss, “The Persistence of Slavery in a Free State,” Journal of Negro History 35 (1950): 289–314, reprinted in A New Jersey Anthology, ed. Maxine N. Lurie (Newark: New Jersey Historical Society, 1994); Paul Finkleman, “State Constitutional Protections of Liberty and the Antebellum New Jersey Supreme Court,” Rutgers Law Journal 23 (1992): 753–87. On emancipation in the North generally, Hodges refers to Arthur Zilversmit, The First Emancipation: The Abolition of Slavery in the North (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967).

     1. “American Missions,” The Evangelical and Literary Magazine 4 (1823): 99–102. [return to text]

     2. Stockton’s year of birth is given as “about 1798” in “Miss Betsey Stockton, Teacher,” in Missionary Album: Portraits and Biographical Sketches of the American Protestant Missionaries to the Hawaiian Islands, rev. and enlarged from editions of 1901 and 1937 (Honolulu: Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society, 1969), 186; and as “in or about 1798” in Constance K. Escher, “She Calls Herself Betsey Stockton,” Princeton History, no. 10 (1991): 74. [return to text]

     3. Entry for Ashbel Green, in Princetonians 1776–1783: A Biographical Dictionary, ed. Richard A. Harrison (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1981), 404–20, esp. 414 on the revival at the college. [return to text]

     4. Ashbel Green to unknown, Sept. 3, 1821, ABC 6, Vol. 4, #210, American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (A.B.C.F.M.) Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. [return to text]

     5. Session minutes for September 20, 1816, Archives of Princeton Theological Seminary. Also cited in Eileen F. Moffett, “Betsey Stockton: Pioneer American Missionary,” International Journal of Missionary Research 19 (1995): 72, 76. [return to text]

     6. Graham Russell Hodges, Slavery and Freedom in the Rural North: African Americans in Monmouth County, New Jersey, 1665–1865 (Madison, Wis.: Madison House, 1997), xv states: “During the years before 1825 relatively small numbers of blacks gained freedom within the state’s conservative and economic structure” and cites Simeon Moss, “The Persistence of Slavery in a Free State,” Journal of Negro History 35 (1950): 289–314, reprinted in A New Jersey Anthology, ed. Maxine N. Lurie (Newark: New Jersey Historical Society, 1994). That the 1804 act said that slaves born before 1804 could remain slaves for life, see Hodges, Slavery and Freedom, 148. For an overview of the gradual emancipation act, Hodges cites Paul Finkleman, “State Constitutional Protections of Liberty and the Antebellum New Jersey Supreme Court,” Rutgers Law Journal 23 (1992): 753–87, esp. 761–66. [return to text]

     7. Michael Osborn to Jeremiah Evarts, Sept. 5, 1821, ABC 6, Vol. 4, #209, ABC 6, Vol. 4, A.B.C.F.M. Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. [return to text]

     8. Ashbel Green to unknown, Sept. 3, 1821, #210, re Stockton, and #198 re Stewart, and Michael Osborn to Jeremiah Evarts, Sept. 5, 1821, ABC 6, Vol. 4, #209, ABC 6, Vol. 4, A.B.C.F.M. Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. [return to text]

     9. Michael Osborn to Jeremiah Evarts, Sept. 5, 1821, A.B.C.F.M. Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. Original spelling retained. [return to text]

     10. Ashbel Green to unknown, Sept. 3, 1821, A.B.C.F.M. Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. Original spelling retained. [return to text]

     11. The Life Of Ashbel Green, V.D.M. Begun to Be Written by Himself in His Eighty-Second Year and Continued to His Eighty-Fourth, ed. Joseph H. Jones (New York: Robert Carter and Brothers, 1849), 326. [return to text]

     12. Ashbel Green to unknown, Sept. 3, 1821, American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (A.B.C.F.M.) Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University. [return to text]

     13. Levi Chamberlain’s copy of the agreement respecting Betsy Stockton’s relation to the mission, dated Oct. 24, 1822 and countersigned November 18, 1822, in Missionary Letters, 1816–1900, Stockton, Betsy 1822, Mission Houses Museum Library, Collections of the Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society, Honolulu, Hawaii. [return to text]

     14. The only extant version of this journal is that found in the Christian Advocate, edited by Ashbel Green, to whom Betsey Stockton sent it. In his introduction to the journal, Green points out he is only printing selections: “To us,” he notes, “they appear interesting and instructive; especially when we consider that the writer is a young woman of African descent, who was never sent to school a day in her life, but acquired all her knowledge by a careful attention to the instruction which she received in a private family, and by her own efforts after she obtained her freedom at the age of twenty; her present age is about twenty five. A missionary life at sea has not been so often and so particularly described as that on land.” What his principles for selection were is not known. He also published the journal of Charles Stewart. [return to text]

     15. Betsey Stockton to Mr. J. [Jacob Green?], Lahaina, Maui, Hawaii, Sept. 16, 1824, “Sandwich Islands,” Christian Advocate 3 (April 1825): 189. [return to text]

     16. Constance K. Escher, “She Calls Herself Betsey Stockton,” Princeton History, no. 10 (1991): 86–87, 96. [return to text]

     17. “Miss Betsey Stockton, Teacher,” 186. [return to text]

     18. Constance K. Escher, “She Calls Herself Betsey Stockton,” Princeton History, no. 10 (1991): 94–95; and so dated in “Miss Betsey Stockton, Teacher,” 186. [return to text]

“Religious Intelligence. Sandwich Islands,” Christian Advocate 2 (May 1824): 233–35; 2 (December 1824): 563–66; 3 (January 1825): 36–41.

Ship Thames, at Sea.

     Nov. 20, 1822.—Here begins the history of things known only to those who have bid the American shores a long adieu. We were employed in arranging our births, clothes, &c. all day; and as the weather was calm, we were enabled to go on without much difficulty.

     21. The weather became stormy, and the sea-sickness commenced.

     22. It blew very hard in the day, and in the night increased to a gale; sea-sickness increased with it. I was myself very sick.

     23. Saturday morning at daybreak shipped a sea. The water rushed into the cabin. I saw it with very little fear; and felt inclined to say, The Lord reigneth, let us all rejoice. I was so weak that I was almost unable to help myself. At 10 o’clock I went on deck: the scene that presented itself was, to me, the most sublime I ever witnessed. How, thought I, can “those who go down to the sea in ships” deny the existence of God. The day was spent in self-examination. This, if ever, is the time to try my motives in leaving my native land. I found myself at times unwilling to perish so near my friends; but soon became composed, and resigned to whatever should be the will of my Heavenly Father. I believed that my motives were pure: and a calm and heavenly peace soon took possession of my breast. Oh that it were always with me as it is this day!

     24. Sabbath. The weather still squally, and our family still in bad health. We had no publick service to-day. My soul longed for the courts of the Lord; but my heart was still rejoicing in the strength of my God.

     25. The ocean has become much smoother than it has been for some time. Our family are recovering very fast; nothing particular has occurred to-day.

     26. The weather is delightful, and we feel much better. The ladies wanted a pudding for dinner. Two or three volunteered their services, and a pudding was made. I, for my part, felt no inclination either to make or eat it. I stayed with Mrs. S. In the midst of their business the man on the mast called out, A sail ho! We were all elate for a few minutes. If we had seen a friend who had been absent for a long time we could not have hailed him with more delight. We bore for the ship, and soon discovered her to be the Penn of Philadelphia. Preparations were made for speaking her. The sea was too rough to permit us to send letters. She came near enough to hail us, but we could only say All’s well after being at sea a week.

     December 1. Sabbath. My soul longed again for the house of the Lord; I endeavoured to find him present with me; and soon indeed found that he was near to all that call on him. I enjoyed the day although we were prevented from having worship until afternoon—owing to the roughness of the weather and the unsettled state of the ship.

     2. Employed in making arrangements in the cabin; the day fair and the ship running at the rate of six miles an hour. The weather is much warmer than I have felt it since I left home. In the evening we had the monthly concert of prayer.

     3. We are almost settled and things are in good order. The bell rings at daylight, and we have prayers at sunrise. Mrs. Stewart is getting much better.

     4. Nothing particular has occurred to-day; we are still on our course direct for Cape de Verd.

     5. The weather is good, and all of us are in good health and spirits. The captain and officers attend our meeting, and the sailors appear to treat the missionaries with respect.

     23. The weather delightful; and the crew all engaged in making oil of two black fish killed yesterday. This is fine amusement for the missionaries. We have had corn parched in the oil; and doughnuts fried in it. Some of the company liked it very much. I could not prevail on myself to eat it. I tasted the flesh and liver of the fish, which were very good. The flesh is very much like beef, and the liver like a hog’s.

     24. At 11 o’clock we had a heavy gale. It did no damage to the rigging. I was amused very much during the gale by one of the landsmen, as they call them; who was ordered to slack the weather bowling, but not understanding the phrase he let it go. Such accidents in a squall cause no small noise, and make our captain lift up his voice like a trumpet. Some of our family like a gale very much. I have not got quite to that yet: however, I can view it with very little emotion in the daytime. In the night I sometimes feel unpleasantly. My bed hangs so near the cabin windows, that I have a full view of the water: and during a gale the waves appear as if they were coming directly into the cabin.

     25. Christmas. How unlike the last! But the day was pleasant, and I enjoyed myself very much; yet could not forbear thinking of my native land. We expected to have made St. Jago; but the wind not favouring us, we were obliged to put about for Cape Horn, without landing. This was something of a trial, as it disappointed all our expectations of communication with our friends.—Saw a large flock of flying fish. They rise from the water a little distance, when pursued by larger fish, and sometimes fly on board. They have a delicious flavour, and are equal to any fresh water fish I ever tasted.

     30. Sabbath. Had prayer meeting in the morning, and preaching in the afternoon at 4 o’clock. Mr. Stewart preached from 1 Cor. i. 23. I enjoyed the Sabbath very much, and thought I felt something of the love of God in my heart. But still I felt as if I was declining in the spiritual life. I attend a little to the study of the Bible, and find it pleasant. Yet I find a void within my breast that is painful. The scenes which constantly present themselves to my view are new and interesting; and The scenes which constantly present themselves to my view are new and interesting; and I find they have a tendency With the poor publican I will say, “God be merciful to me a sinner.” At six in the evening, we caught two sharks, and saw a number of dolphins. The flesh of the shark is very good when young.

     31. I was much interested in witnessing the harpooning of a large shark. It was taken at the stern of the ship, about 6 yards from the cabin window, from which I had a clear view of it. It was struck by two harpoons at the same time. The fish (if we may call it one, for it has very little the appearance of a fish) was so angry that he endeavoured to bite the men after he was on deck. His jaw bone was taken out and preserved by one of the missionaries. We see a great number of them, and take them frequently. I have not been able preserve any curiosities for Mr. J——. If I were to return I could amuse him a long time, with telling the simple facts that I have witnessed, and the things I have seen: and at the close of the month and year I will mention a few. The colour of the water near land, is of a greenish hue; a little farther out it is of a bluish tint; and in the middle of the ocean it is of dark blue, and very clear. I never saw a more beautiful green than the colour of the water off Cape Blanco, where we were nearly driven by an unfavourable wind. From this we steered S. W. by S. between the African coast and the Cape De Verd islands; and then directed our course S. S. W. to the coast of Brazil. If it were in my power I would like to describe the Phosphorescence of the sea. But to do this would require the pen of a Milton: and he, I think, would fail, were he to attempt it. I never saw any display of Fire-works that equalled it for beauty. As far as we could see the ocean, in the wake of the ship, it appeared one sheet of fire, and exhibited figures of which you can form no idea. We have bathed during this month frequently, and find the water very refreshing. Yesterday, at 8 in the morning, the thermometer stood at 80°. The missionaries all went in to bathe, with their pantaloons: Mr B. wore his shirt also, and dived three times from the ship; the last time he staid too long in the water, so that the strength of his arms was exhausted, and he was not able to get into the ship alone. Mr. Lane, the second mate, dived from the bowsprit, with a rope, and tied it round him. At the same time another was thrown from the side of the vessel. We felt alarmed for a few moments, but there was no real danger. Had he even fainted, the number of swimmers was so great that they could have kept him up until a boat was lowered. I must finish this year by saying with the Psalmist, “When I consider the works of thy hands, Lord what is man that thou art mindful of him!”

     Jan. 4, 1823. Crossed the line. In the evening, old Neptune visited us, a little before we came to his garden, as he called it. His appearance was the most ludicrous thing I ever saw in my life. He announced his coming by blowing a large trumpet. The sailors were most of them new hands; and the poor fellows were all put down in the forecastle, and afterwards brought up, one at a time, before his majesty, with their eyes covered, to answer to a number of questions respecting their lives, business, &c. and why they had come to sea. He told the mission family, that as there were so many ladies on board, he had thought it expedient to bring his wife with him; and that she was as clever an old lady as ever was in the world. He introduced her to the family; but said he thought it not best for her to shake hands with them, as she had been handling so many of her dirty boys. Nor did he think it proper to shave any one farther aft, among the ladies. But he would like something else. Accordingly they sent him some Spirits and Cakes, and he and his lady withdrew, telling us that we might cross his garden at all times. The manner in which they shave is very disgusting.

     5. Sabbath. Pleasant and clear in the morning; a little squally in the afternoon. Had our usual worship. The day was solemn; Mr. Bishop preached for us: but “in vain I sought Him whom my Soul loveth.” I felt very much inclined to despair, and feared that I had indulged the hope of the hypocrite. Shall I after all become a castaway! Forbid it, 0 Lord! nor suffer me to injure the cause I have espoused.

     6. Nothing new to-day. All going on in good order. I find my mind still dark; and do not feel quite happy. Yet for the sake of those around me I endeavour to appear cheerful. I am becoming more and more attached to Mr. and Mrs. S——, and trust that God will make me a comfort to them.

     8. Going very rapidly, at the rate of nine and a half miles it hour. The weather very pleasant. We have not suffered so much with the heat since we came near the line, as we did some time ago. The air is more like that on land than we have felt it for three weeks past. Saw a large tortoise, but could not take it, without delaying the ship too long. We regretted the loss very much. Fresh meat would be very acceptable to us; we have had none since Christmas. Pork and beef are our standing dishes. Our table makes a curious appearance. It is spread over with frames; every plate, dish, and cup, is fastened; and even thus we cannot get a meal, at times, without holding with one hand, while helping ourselves to eat with the other. We have very little conversation at the table: all of us get through as soon as we can. There are eleven persons at each table: at the first, the captain and one of the mates, with nine of the missionaries. At the second, two mates, three of the missionaries, the four natives and myself. The provisions of both tables are alike. In the division of the missionary stores I always have my share, so that I have indeed a double portion of the good things of this life; for Mr. and Mrs. S. give me always a share with them. The last apple and orange were cut in three pieces, and divided between us. The impression that such little things make on my mind will not easily be erased. 0 that I were worthy of such favours, but I fear I am not.

     Feb. 5th, 1823.—All well and anxious to get round Cape Horn; a little blow in the afternoon. We are not without our fears; but the Lord reigneth, and we will rejoice. Lat. 49° 40'—lon. 62° 08'.

     Feb. 6th.—The weather is beginning to be rather cold. I find my woollen clothes to be very comfortable: my health is very good again—a little home sick, but do not wish to return. O! thought I, if I could but spend one Sabbath evening in your study, how my heart would rejoice. But I must not look forward to that Sabbath which will never end—there to see, face to face, what we now see dimly through a glass; and to meet you, with my other friends, whom I have left behind. It is a source of consolation to me to be able to think that you, with many others in my native land, pray for me. Were it not for that, I should almost despair. I find my heart more deeply corrupted than I had any idea of. I always knew that the human heart was a sink of sin, and that mine was filled with it; but I did not know, until now, that the sink was without a bottom. I attribute much of my spiritual difficulty to the want of retirement and prayer. It is with the greatest anxiety that I mark the hours as they pass away, which once were devoted to God in secret, without having at present a place for retirement, or indeed at times a heart to retire. Ah! how soon may the people of God grieve away his Holy Spirit. But why should I thus complain and despond. He is still my Father and my God—and I still love him—Yes, my balm is still in Gilead, and my physician there.—Lat. 56° 41'—lon. 63°.

     Feb. 7.—Still sailing with all possible speed towards Cape Horn. Just as the sun was setting, we were called to witness one of the most sublime scenes that ever the eyes of mortals beheld—no language could paint it—it was the setting of the sun. The scene kept changing from beautiful to more beautiful, until I could think of nothing but the bright worlds above, to which the saints are hastening. As soon as it was over, and the sun had disappeared, we were assembled on the quarter deck for prayers. Here my soul found free access to the throne of grace, and rose with delight in the contemplation of that God who is the author of all our joys, and of all good.

     Feb. 8.—I was roused this morning by Mr. Lane, who came into the cabin to inform the captain that there was land two points off the weather bow. The captain told him to brace and stand for it. I soon dressed myself, and went on deck to see it. Its first appearance was that of a dark cloud; but it became much darker as we approached it; until we came near enough to discover cragged rocks, with a whitish earth running between them. It was about 12 o’clock when we first saw the white streaks, and at 1 we could see the greenish appearance of the mountains. Half an hour afterwards we saw a smoke rising from them, and at 2 a light blaze. It was, however, soon extinguished. What this fire was, no one on board could tell—perhaps a company of sealers had stopped there, and seeing our ship, lighted it up to alarm us. Or it might be the signal of distress for some poor cast-away sailor—or possibly a volcanic eruption. Our captain had often passed Staten land before, but had seen nothing of the kind. But our situation was too critical to admit of a moment’s delay to make observations; for we were now near enough to see the breakers dashing against this forbidden shore; and either a calm or squall might prove fatal to us. I thought of the language of the poet, as I looked at those craggy cliffs—

“Alas! these rocks all human skill defy,
Who strikes them once, beyond relief, must die.”

We continued sailing near them until 4 o’clock, when a calm ensued. Our captain said nothing to us, but evidently appeared troubled. I then knew no danger, and talked to him as usual—asked him to send a boat ashore; and jestingly told him, that I would accompany him. I thought he appeared very solemn, and could give no reason for it. The truth was, that a strong current was drawing us towards these fatal rocks; and if wind enough should not rise to render the ship manageable, we must inevitably be wrecked upon them, during the ensuing night. Here you will indulge me with a passing reflection. I have always remarked, that in the most dangerous situations, I have felt the easiest; and it was because I did not know my danger. And can there be any thing more like a sleeping Christian, or an unawakened sinner? both in imminent danger, and both stupid. O that God may save me from the spiritual, as he has in mercy from the natural evil. A fresh breeze sprung up towards evening, and we were soon borne beyond the reach of the current; and in a few hours Staten land receded entirely from our view. But fresh dangers and anxieties awaited us.

     Feb. 9th.—Here begins our tossing and rolling.—To-day we have had rain and hail in squalls. We cannot write or read with comfort; and if we attempt to eat, sitting on chairs that are not lashed, the chance is ten to one that we are thrown across the cabin, before the meal is over. I have had several pretty hard blows on my head, since we left the river Plate. Our latitude, as far as we can judge from reckoning and observation, is 55° 26'—lon. 35°. Twenty-one days ensue after this, in which there was snow, hail, rain, and one continued gale. Sometimes we could scud before the wind; but the most of the time it was too strong to admit of that; we generally lay too under a close reefed top-sail, and mizen-stay-sail. Oh! how cheerless every thing looked around us, in comparison with what it did some time ago. The sailors were all wet, day and night; the forecastle was half of the time under water; and the water that was shipped at the bow, ran as far as the companion-way. All over the ship there was nothing but dirt and wet, so slippery that we could not stand. One night at twelve o’clock, I went on deck, when the ship was laying too, under nothing but a close reefed top-sail. The wind was so strong, that I could not stand without holding by my hands to something fixed: it seemed as if the ship was going on her beam ends every moment. The sailors were always pleased to see me on deck in a storm, and tried more than once to frighten me; but when they found that they did not succeed, they ended with saying, “well Betsey, you’ll know how to pity poor sailors—we have not been dry since we left Staten land.” My heart has often bled for these poor fellows. I slept whenever I could, night or day. Studying was out of the question; I found it impossible to put two ideas together, half the time. During this period, we caught several birds; one or two of which I tried to save for Mr.——, but the rain continued so long that they were spoiled. The sailors call them Mother Carey’s chickens, and Mock Mollys. The most beautiful that I have seen is the Mock Molly. Of this species we took a number. They are a little larger than a goose. In viewing Cape Horn, I can truly say the half was not told me. It is indeed one of the most dreadful places ever seen; and if I double it again, I shall endeavour to do it by the way of the Cape of Good Hope; this, I know, is a blunder, but it conveys my meaning. In a gale we lost the waste-board of the ship; this left the deck three feet nearer to the water, and consequently we shipped more water than usual. I had always had the good fortune to be below when the deck got washed very badly; and as we were soon to be in the milder waters of the Pacifick, I wished very much to see our vessel ship one heavy sea, as the sailors call it. My wishes were answered in the following manner—One afternoon, when I had been suffering for some time with wet feet, I went to the caboose to warm them; just as I was coming out, I got both my eyes filled with ashes and embers, which put me in a very uncomfortable situation for seeing what I had wished to see: but at that moment I heard a sea strike the leeward side of the ship, fore and aft; in an instant I sprang to the shrouds, and heard the water run in a torrent under me. My poor eyes were condemned to darkness: a liquid made of salt water and ashes did not improve them just then. However I felt no inconvenience from it afterwards, except that it afforded fine sport, for some time, to the captain, who often observed that Betsey had shipped a sea in her face. This occurrence however did not intimidate me: I went on deck very often to view the grandeur of the sea; and it is truly one of the most sublime objects in creation. I have spent hours since I left my native land in viewing this object. At times I have seen the waves rise mountains high before us; and it would appear as if we must inevitably be swallowed up; but in a moment our ship would rise upon the wave, and it would be seen receding at the stern. I stayed on deck one evening until 12 o’clock, looking at the waves breaking over the ship: it was one of the most beautiful sights I ever beheld. The water would foam up like mountains of snow around us, and break over the deck; while below it sounded like thunder, or like rivers running over us. I could compare our sailing when going before the wind to nothing but flying. We were scudding with the wind directly aft, under close reefed top and main-sail; of course the ship rolled and pitched at the same time. Captain Clasby had told us, more than once, that if the wind was fair, we must take care of ourselves, for he did not intend to spare us. He was now literally fulfilling his words; for he neither spared us nor the ship. I felt more afraid that her sides would meet the same fate that the waste-board did, than of any thing else. She laboured very hard, and we shipped so much water, that the pumps were kept at work every four hours. I have thought at times, in the night, that we were on a rock; but on inquiry, the answer would be, nothing but Cape Horn. However, we are almost done with it; and I am not sorry: nor am I sorry that I have been called to double it; for I have enjoyed more of the light of my heavenly Father’s countenance, during the time we were off the Cape, than I ever did in the Atlantic. The only reason I can assign is, that here we have been called hourly to acknowledge his mercy in sparing our lives; and that while we here view his power upon this stormy ocean, we have felt our helplessness, and been made to adore and tremble. I am not writing to one who is unacquainted with the human heart; you know its dark deceitful nature, and that it is not always kept warm by tender treatment. For me at least it is necessary, in order to keep me in my place, to have some doubts, some temptations, and some sickness to struggle with; and even then my garments are far from being kept white. But hitherto has the Lord helped me, and I can raise upon this much dreaded landmark, a strong and lasting Ebenezer. Long, I hope, shall I remember the mercy of my God here. Here too the Spirit of the Lord has, I trust, been striving with some of the sailors, though many are yet, I fear, in the gall of bitterness; some, however, are rejoicing in the Lord. How would your heart rejoice with us, could you see these hardy sons of the ocean, who would scorn to complain of any earthly hardships, bowing with the spirit of children, at the cross of Christ. This fact we witness; and if I could do it as I wish, it would please me to give you an account of some of their conversations—their plain, abrupt, and sailor-like manner of expressing their thoughts and feelings; but I must leave this for an abler pen.

     On the 16th of February, we saw Cape Noir, and were obliged to tack, to prevent being driven on it. The wind was against us; and the 3d of March we were again near the same place, only a little to the west. On the Sabbath, Mr. Richards preached in the cabin, from these words: “Though you make many prayers I will not hear”—warning those that refused to hear the calls of God, of that day when God would refuse to hear them. Oh! how appalling is the thought, that the day is coming, in which we must rise as witnesses against them, or they against us—if we have been unfaithful to them. We still retire for fifteen minutes, every evening, directly after publick prayers, to pray for them—I say retire, that is, we go to different parts of the ship; some of us into the rigging, some out in the boats, and others on the spars; yet in all these places we can find our God.

     We are now to bid farewell to high wind and dark blue water. I hope soon to be in that part of the Pacific, which deserves the name; for in this part Terrific would suit it best. Indeed it is so terrible, that neither sun, moon, nor stars, condescend to visit it often. Its constant companions are rain, hail and snow.

     March 4th.—We have completely doubled Cape Horn; the sea is much smoother—I saw nothing remarkable during the day. My own health and that of the family is pretty good; it is a source of comfort to me that Mrs. and Mr. S. enjoy their health so well: I have learned to love them, and they richly deserve it. My heart must be dead to every virtue, when it ceases to beat with gratitude to them. When I took the last look of those dear young gentlemen, with whom I had spent my days of childhood and folly, and my more sober years of reflection, my soul sickened within me as I said—“Can I hope ever to find friends like these? Can I ever find those who will take so deep an interest in my welfare, and with whom I shall spend such happy hours?” Yes, I have found such friends. When you think of me as a stranger in a strange land, think of me still as one who has kind friends, to guide and protect her. ’Tis true the endearments of home cannot be forgotten. My mind often returns to your family altar. There I have often left my burden, and I cannot forget that consecrated spot. Nor can I forget the dear little boys, I have so often held in my arms—I comfort myself by thinking that I shall hear from you all while in life, and with the hope that I shall meet you
after the hour of death.

     5th.—The weather much pleasanter than it has been. We are getting into the Pacific. Lat. 46° 11', lon. 82° 30' W.

     7th.—The weather not very pleasant, but much better than Cape Horn.

     9th.—Sabbath. In the morning we had prayers in the cabin, and in the afternoon Mr. Stewart preached from Genesis vi. 3. “My spirit shall not always strive with man.” I have seen nothing since I came on board that has appeared to produce so much effect. The Spirit of the Lord seemed striving with at least some of the sailors. They have been constrained since to say, what shall we do? and I hope some have fled to the only sure resting place for poor perishing souls. Lat. 46° 22', lon. 80° 35'.

     10th.—Pleasant weather—all going on well. We are steering up the coast of Chili. It is remarkable that off this coast it never rains; nor is it clear weather; it is always a little cloudy. The air is very refreshing at all times, but particularly so in the morning and evening. Our deck presents a very odd appearance this morning. The fore-hole, the middle-hole, and the run, are all open. The things that have been wet are airing in every direction; our medicine chests are unpacking, and the sailors are sending up the fore and mizen, royal and top-gallant yards. Picture to yourself our situation, when in the midst of all this, we heard the well known cry—“There she blows;” this was repeated every minute or two for some time. The lines and water were hurried into the boats, and every thing was soon in readiness. The sailors waited impatiently for the command to lower. Those in sight were sperm whales, at four miles distance. The wished for orders were at length given, and in five minutes the boats were seen gliding over the waves. How changed the scene; thought I—Four months ago, these boats would not have been lowered without having our ears assailed with oaths—Now not a profane word is heard. They pursued the whales some distance, but could not come up with them. The captain seeing this, hoisted the signal for return; the poor fellows were obliged to obey, and thus ended the chase—and my day must end with it. The lat. 39° 16', lon. 80° 40'.

     13th.—Steering N. by W. Nothing occurred until 1 P.M. when we came up with and spoke the English brig Tiber, from Valparaiso, bound to Valdivia. This was by far the handsomest foreign vessel we had seen, since we left America. The captain was very much of a gentleman. The conversation, as near as I can recollect it, was as follows:—Englishman—What ship is that? American—The Thames, of New Haven. E.—How long have you been out? A.—One hundred and ten days. E.—Are you bound to Valparaiso? A.—No sir; I am bound to the Sandwich Islands. How long have you been out, and where are you bound? E.—I have been out eight days; I’m bound to Valdivia. Valparaiso is in a state of revolution. The Royalists have been defeated. The Franklin 74 is there. What success have you had in fishing.? A.—I have caught nothing. E.—I am sorry for that. I wish you success. Sir, what is your longitude? A.—81° 40'. What is yours, sir? E.—80° 10'. A.—I thank you, sir. I wish you a prosperous voyage. All this passed in three or four minutes.

     20th.—There is a sameness in every thing that passes, which makes it almost impossible to write; unless I should give you a very minute account of every little incident that has occurred. This I will not attempt, for fear I should aim at something out of my reach. Mr. Stewart will give you a full account of every thing that you would wish to know. We are sailing slowly along the coast of Peru. The lat. is 20° 38', lon. 91° 52'.

     24th.—The morning was pleasant, but I could not enjoy it—I was wretched—I could not enjoy my friends, because I could not enjoy my God. The captain wishes to make a respectable appearance when he enters the port, and so he is painting the ship all over. Our lat. 15° 29', lon. 96° 47' W.

     25th.—Still dark in mind myself, but the family all in motion.—Some packing clothes, some writing journals.—I just began to transcribe mine for you. You would scarcely believe that so many different occupations could be carried on, on board a ship.—The painters, the carpenters, and the blacksmiths are all at work. This morning Stephen and Cooperree caught a Skip Jack, as they call it; I believe the proper name is Bonetta. Its flesh has a very pleasant taste, and the fish, altogether, resembles a mackerel very much, only it is round; and when taken out of the water has some of the hues of the Dolphin.

     26th.—Nothing worth noticing occurred during the day. Painting, and tarring, and writing, were carried on, as they had been for some time past. Towards evening, the dark cloud was removed from my mind, and I felt as peaceful as the ocean with which I was surrounded. There not a wave was seen rising abruptly, from any part of our ship; all rolled smoothly and gently along. The succeeding night was beautiful beyond description; and all was peace within. I thought of St. John’s “sea of glass mingled with fire,” when I beheld the ocean. Our tarring and painting had been completed; our studding-sails were spread; the full moon shone brightly on us, without one intervening cloud, while our vessel was wafted gently on the surface of the deep. It will be long before the impression of this evening will be erased from my mind.

     29th.—I still enjoy peace and comfort. The day has been much warmer than usual. I think I have not suffered more with the heat since I left America. The appearance of the crew has not been so favourable to-day as it was last Saturday. The strong man armed is keeping his palace; but blessed be God there is a stronger than he. Oh! that it would please him to come down and show his power amongst us.

     30th.—Sabbath. The first thing I heard in the morning, was that whales were seen spouting, off the stern. The captain ordered the course altered, and for two hours all was confusion and noise. Alas! how unlike those Sabbath mornings I have spent beneath your roof, where all was quietness and peace. No spouting whales, no playing dolphins, no rattling ropes, nor hoarse commanding voices, were there heard.—Nothing there prevented our meditations, till the well known bell told us it was time to offer the morning sacrifice. But I am indulging myself too much in such recollections. I would not, I could not, I dare not, look with longing eyes towards my native land. No sir, my hand lies on the plough, and if my poor wretched heart does not deceive me, I would not take it off for all the wealth of America. It is not the “leeks and the onions” of your land that I long after, but for one such sermon as I have heard from Dr. A. It is spiritual food I want. Excuse me, sir, when you remember that I have been spoiled at home. After two hours detention, we changed our course, and again pursued our way. At 10 we had our prayer meeting in the cabin; and in the afternoon Mr. Goodrich preached from Gen. xix. 17.—“Escape for your lives.” There was not many of the sailors present. Satan is very much out of humour; he is either losing, or securing, some of his people on board.

     31st.—The morning pleasant—the weather quite warm. Such sudden transitions from heat to cold, and cold to heat, have a very unfavourable effect on my health. They make me weak and dejected.

     April 1st, 1823.—All fools day; but we I hope have laid aside our folly. The weather so warm that the tar is dropping from the rigging, and the water from my face; the ship almost in a calm, and we under a vertical sun—I am ready to think I have seen some new things under the sun, if nobody else has. Lat. 3°, 25'. lon. 108° 30'.

     2d.—The weather very warm, and scarcely any air stirring. About 11 o’clock we had a shower, which is the first we have had since we left Cape Horn. In the afternoon our captain indulged us with a view of the ship. He had promised me a ride, (if you please to call it such) in one of his little boats, the first calm day; so I reminded him of it to-day, and he ordered a boat lowered, and he, with four or five of the mission family and myself, went out in it. The women get into the boat before it is let down into the water. This requires some fortitude—for the moment the boat touches the water, it is thrown up two or three yards by the swell, and it requires great dexterity to manage it so as to avoid the danger of being stove against the ship, while the men are getting in at the chains. I enjoyed the excursion very much. We went round the ship twice; which having been painted lately makes a very beautiful appearance. Her bow, catheads, and stern, have images on them, and all looked clean and cheerful. On the flying jib-boom sat Stephen, the Tahitean youth; and on the bowsprit Cooperee, who is a diverting fellow, and in his quizzing way, hailed the captain as he passed. The quarter deck was filled with our family, whose eyes followed us as we passed bounding over the waves. When we returned to the ship I felt quite elated: it was the first time I had been abroad since we left New Haven, which is 132 days—a great while for me to stay at home, at one time.

     4th.—Nothing but pleasant weather followed, until we came in sight of Owhyhee (Hawaii). We then had frequent squalls of rain, and hard blows; but not so as to make it uncomfortable. On the 11th Mrs. Stewart presented us with a fine boy, which I consider as my charge. The little fellow beguiles many of my lonely hours; and you must excuse me if my journal is now weekly instead of daily. From the first moment that I saw the little innocent, I felt emotions that I was unacquainted with before. This, no doubt, arose from the peculiar situation in which I was placed, and from my attachment to his parents. It was one in the morning when I saw Mr. Stewart up in the cabin. Sleep forsook my eyes, and with a heavy heart I asked—what is the matter? The answer was just what I had been fearing—that Mrs. Stewart was unwell. I had hoped and prayed that the winds might waft us to our destined port, before her day of affliction should arrive. Although I knew that the sea would give up its dead at the command of God, yet the thought of entombing one that I loved so tenderly beneath its billows, was to me more than I knew how to bear. I was soon, however, delivered from all my fears. Her hours of suffering were not many. At half past nine, we had our little stranger in our arms, and his mother in a comfortable situation. The wind blew so hard all the time, that it was impossible to set down a cup, or any thing else with safety. Her bed was at the windward side of the ship, and it required some exertion to keep her in it. Yet she felt no inconvenience from the circumstance, and suffered as little as if she had been provided with every convenience. Mr. Stewart and myself were her nurses. One of us sat up the fore part of the night, and the other the latter, for two weeks. The little boy had good health, and we got along very well. Most of my time was spent below, and I heard nothing that was passing on deck. I was happy to have it in my power to be of some assistance to my best friends. I found employment enough to engross all my attention, and nothing occurred worth mentioning. On the 24th, we saw and made Hawaii (Owhyhee). At the first sight of the snow-capped mountains, I felt a strange sensation of joy and grief. It soon wore away, and as we sailed slowly past its windward side, we had a full view of all its grandeur. The tops of the mountains are hidden in the clouds, and covered with perpetual snow. We could see with a glass the white banks, which brought the strong wintry blasts of our native country to our minds so forcibly, as almost to make me shiver. But it was not long before objects that were calculated to have a chilling effect of another kind, were brought to our sight. Two or three canoes, loaded with natives, came to the ship: their appearance was that of half man and half beast—naked—except a narrow strip of tapa round their loins. When they first came on board, the sight chilled our very hearts. The ladies retired to the cabin, and burst into tears; and some of the gentlemen turned pale: my own soul sickened within me, and every nerve trembled. Are these, thought I, the beings with whom I must spend the remainder of my life! They are men and have souls—was the reply which conscience made. We asked them where the king was—at Hawaii, or Oahu? They said at Oahu. We informed them that we were missionaries, come to live with them, and do them good. At which an old man exclaimed, in his native dialect, what may be thus translated—“That is very good, by and by, know God.” This beginning of missionary labours seemed very encouraging; and in a short time our unpleasant feelings were much dissipated, and we conversed with them freely, through the boys, who were our interpreters. We gave them old clothes; and in return they gave us all the fish they had caught, except one large one, which we bought. They remained with us until our boat went on shore, and brought us some potatoes, taro, and cocoanuts, which were very refreshing to us after a voyage of five months; part of which time we had no other diet than meat and bread. I brought my little boy on deck, who was two weeks old; some of them took him in their arms, and in ecstasy exclaimed, aroha maitai—very great love to you; and kissed him. The last expression of affection we could have dispensed with very well; but we have to become all things to all men, that we may gain some. They then bid us many arohas, and took their departure.

     On Saturday, the 10th of May, we left the ship, and went to the mission enclosure at Honoruru. We had assigned to us a little thatched house in one corner of the yard, consisting of one small room, with a door, and two windows—the door too small to admit a person walking in without stooping, and the windows only large enough for one person to look out at a time. Near us was another of the same kind, occupied by Mr. R., and opposite one much larger, where Mr. B. and E. resided. Next to them stood another small one, in which Mr. Ellis, of the London Mission Society resided; and in the mission house (which at home would be called small) there were Messrs. Bingham, Thurston, Loomis, Harwood, Goodrich, Blatchley and Chamberlain. The family all eat at the same table, and the ladies attend to the work by turns. Mrs. Stewart and myself took each of us a day separately. I found my time fully occupied during our stay at Oahu, which I was not sorry for. Had I been idle, I should not in all probability have been so happy in my situation as I was. I was obliged to stay within the enclosure all the time, except on the Sabbath, when I went to church, which was a few rods off: and in the morning early I went three or four times, with Mr. Stewart, to Mr. Allen’s, about one mile and a half from home, for milk. Mr. Allen was very kind to me, and seemed happy to see one of his own country people. I think he told me he had resided on the island twenty years, and had never before seen a coloured female. His wife is a native woman, but very pleasant, and to all appearance innocent. The first time I visited her she presented me with a very handsome mat, and appeared happy to see me. They are in good circumstances, and friendly to the mission. I regretted leaving them very much.

     On the 26th of May we heard that the barge was about to sail for Lahaina, with the old queen and princes; and that the queen was desirous to have missionaries to accompany her; and that if missionaries would consent to go, the barge should wait two days for them. A meeting was called to consult whether it was expedient to establish a mission at Lahaina. The mission was determined on, and Mr. S. was appointed to go: he chose Mr. R. for his companion, who was also appointed the next day. On the 28th we embarked on the mighty ocean again, which we had left so lately.

     In the morning of the 31st, we all came on deck, and were in sight of land. In the middle of the day we came to anchor; the gentlemen left the vessel to see if they could obtain a house, or any accommodations for us. They returned in a few hours with Mr. Butler, an American resident, who had kindly offered us a house. In the afternoon our things were landed, and we took up our residence in Lahaina. We had not seen a tree that looked green and beautiful since we left home, until we came here. The water, too, is very good, and the house one of the best that I have seen on the island.—It is the same that Dr. Holman had while he was in this country. Mr. B. was very kind to us, and did every thing in his power to make us comfortable. His wife is a half-breed, and one of the prettiest women I have seen on the island. She understands English, but will not speak it. The next day, being the Sabbath, the gentlemen went down to the village in the morning, and preached by an interpreter. The people were very attentive, and requested that their instruction might begin the next day; and accordingly the following day it did begin.

     Mr. Pitt dined with us the 2d of the month.—After dinner he said to the missionaries very politely, “I wish you much joy on the island of Mowee.” He is a pleasant and sensible man, and the most influential of any on the islands: he favours the mission. The next morning Mr. Loomis and Mr. Butler accompanied him to Oahu, and left us with the natives and Mrs. Butler: William staid with the Old Queen, so that we were quite alone.

     Near the last of June I had another attack of the pain in my breast, with a little spitting of blood. At the time I was seized, we were without a lancet, or any means of obtaining one, except from a ship that had just come into the harbour. Mr. P. sent to it and got one, and Mr. R. bled me. In a few minutes I was relieved, but was not able to leave the place until the 24th, when a brig came in sight.—Supposing it to have the deputation on board, I walked to the beach, and arrived just in time to see his royal highness land, amidst hundreds. He appeared very well at the time, but we found soon after that he was in a frolic, and had left Oahu without its being known where he was going. The day previous to his arrival a schooner came in quest of him; and the day after, his own barge came, with two of his queens—he has four. In his manners he is quite a gentleman. He reads and writes well. We regret very much that he is given to drink. He says he is afraid of the fire, and has made several attempts to refrain, but has been unsuccessful. The 29th was the Sabbath. I went in the morning with the family to worship: the scene that presented itself was one that would have done an American’s heart good to have witnessed. Our place of worship was nothing but an open place on the beach, with a large tree to shelter us: on the ground a large mat was laid, on which the chief persons sat. To the right there was a sofa, and a number of chairs; on these the missionaries, the king, and principal persons sat. The kanakas, or lower class of people, sat on the ground in rows; leaving a passage open to the sea, from which the breeze was blowing. Mr. R. addressed them from these words, “It is appointed unto all men once to die, and after death the judgment.” Honoru acted as interpreter: the audience all appeared very solemn. After service the favourite queen called me, and requested that I should take a seat with her on the sofa, which I did, although I could say but few words which she could understand. Soon after, bidding them aroha, I returned with the family. In the afternoon we had an English sermon at our house: about fifty were present, and behaved well. In the morning one of the king’s boys came to the house, desiring to be instructed in English. Mr. S. thought it would be well for me to engage in the work at once. Accordingly I collected a proper number and commenced. I had four English, and six Hawaiian scholars. This, with the care of the family, I find as much as I can manage.

     July 3d.—In the afternoon I went, with a number of the natives, to purchase pine apples. After walking through Taro patches and water, we came to the pine apples, which appeared very handsome. They grow on the edge of a pond of water; the fruit generally hangs in the water—one or two on a bunch—sometimes only one—which grows straight up on the bush. I obtained two apples, and seven plants, and returned home before night.

     4th.—In the morning, Mr. S. returned from prayers, with Mr. Ellis, the London missionary, who had just arrived from Oahu, on his way to Hawaii. I was very much disappointed to see him without receiving letters from America. When we left Honoru, two vessels were expected; one from New York, and the other from Boston. I often visited the beach to watch for sails: the vessel at last arrived, but brought me no letters. Oh may I be taught, to be submissive at all times.