direction of a man so affectionate and faithful as was Mr. Lawrence.

When it pleased God to restore my reason, I discovered that I was exceeding weak and continued so for some time. I was not able to raise myself up in the bed. I ascertained that my cure was doubtful in the judgment of the physicians: and when I began to mend it was very slowly.

on.

One day two of my young friends came to me and said, "Sherburne, why do you lie here? come you must get up." I told them I should be glad if I could. They said they would help me, and that the doctor had directed them to help me up. They got my clothes and put them This was probably some time in the month of May. They led me into the yard; one on each side, holding me up by the arms. As soon as they led me into the sun, I fainted: they took me up and carried me into the room where there were two outer doors which were opposite to each other, in which were several couches to accommodate the convalescent. Here they laid me on a couch. I spent most of the day in this place, and felt some refreshed. The next day I was taken out again, and in the course of the day I was able to stand alone, with a staff in my hand. I was treated very kindly by the doctor and uncle Lawrence, but I gained but very slowly.

Several weeks before this time, the prisoners had received the intelligence that shortly there was to be a general exchange of prisoners, and about the time I got upon my legs again, the Lady's Adventure, a ship of four hundred tons, commanded by Capt. Mitchel Humble, had actually got into the sound or harbor. There was joy indescribable among the prisoners. My doctor, in order to raise my spirits, told me the ship had arrived to take us to our own country; that she would sail in two or three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care of myself, that I might go in her. A week or ten days passed away and I mended very slowly.

The ship before mentioned was bound to Boston, and in a week or two another was going to Philadelphia, and in a few weeks after a third would sail with the remainder of the prisoners for some port of the United States.

Finally the time arrived for the doctor to discharge from the hospital all that were sufficiently recovered. Every man went to his own bed and sat until the doctor passed him. He passed by me with some pleasant ceremony, but I perceived he had not taken down my name. My heart almost sunk within me. I arose and followed him, and as he was about leaving the hospital, I said to him "doctor, I believe you have not got my name." He replied, "God bless you my son; it will never do for you to think of leaving the hospital in your situation. You are a more suitable person to enter a hospital than to leave one. ." "Sir" said I, "you promised me that I should go in this ship. Said he, "I was in hopes you would have been able to go in her, but you are so sick that it will never do: you would not live to get out side the eddy stone; there are four hundred or more going in her, and they will be so crowded, that you would die directly. I should be very happy to discharge you if I thought it would do. We have had such a hard time in raising you so far, that I should be very sorry to lose you now, and especially thro' imprudence. You would never live to see America, and your blood would be on my head. There is another ship going in a week or two, have patience, and stay until she is ready, and by that time I am in hopes you will be strong enough to go." "But sir," said I, "the other ship is going to Philadelphia, and I should be a great way from home." "No matter for that," replied the doctor, "you will be in your own country." "But sir," said I, "all my acquaintance and townsmen are going in this ship, and she is going near my home, and if I do not go in her, I shall never get home. I have a number of good friends up in the prison, who are going in this; I am sure they will take good care of me; but if they all go and leave me, I shall never get home." Uncle Lawrence, and twenty others were listening to the doctor and me, and as I turned my eyes toward uncle Lawrence, I saw the tears trickling down his manly face. The beloved doctor was in the same condition, and my readers must judge for themselves, how it was with me. Uncle Lawrence then spoke and said, "doctor, I don't know but that you may as well discharge him, and as I am going in the same ship, if you

will discharge him I will give you my word, that I will pay particular attention to him." "O well well," said the doctor, "in that case, uncle Lawrence, I will venture to discharge him; for I can trust him in your care, and I hope he will do well, but if he dies, his blood must be upon his own head." "O sir," said I, (feeling almost well) "the sea always agrees well with me, and I believe I should gain faster on board the ship than I should here." The good doctor placed my name on the list of the discharged, gave us his best wishes, and left us. The same day we were guarded from the hospital to the prison.

CHAPTER IV.

I shall now venture to detail some peculiar occurrences which I had heretofore resolved never to express either with my tongue or pen. But having receded from that

determination, I shall narrate the eircumstances as correctly as my memory will admit. When our company from the hospital entered the prison yard, the first of my townsmen who spoke to me was John B---r. He was a respectable young man, but rather profane, and at this time he had been drinking rather freely. As they were to leave the prison that afternoon, they allowed themselves some strong beer which at any time might be had at the gate; and although most of them were destitute of money, those who had it would supply the destitute, and indeed they were all lively and rather noisy, but this was not to be wondered at on the present occasion.

John B---r accosted me as follows: "Why d-n ye, Sherburne, are you alive? We heard you were dead. Why I thought the d-1 had got you before this time. We did'nt know tho' but that you might go to heaven. Why they said that Sherburne was as crazy as the d- -1, down there in the hospital, and that he prayed like a minister. I don't know but that you might have gone to heav

en."

1

If I had been detected in the grossest villainy, I should not have felt more mortified. I did not know that there was a creature in existence that had ever heard me pray; and was ashamed to have it known among my shipmates, that I prayed.

Such is the depravity of the human heart, that we are ashamed to have it thought that we have any true reverΙ

ence for God or any regard for the eternal welfare of the immortal soul. I hurried out of Jack's sight as soon as possible, and began to reflect on the scenes through which I had passed in the hospital, and in addition to those which I have already related, the following came fresh into my mind.

I recollected that while in the hospital, I had the impression, that myself, and many others, were on an extensive bay of broken ice, some miles from the land; that myself and hundreds were making our flight toward the shore with great precipitation, springing from one piece of ice to another; some pieces seemed to be several yards in diameter, and others not more than a foot. In some instances the spaces were so great between the pieces that it required the utmost effort to leap from one to another; and to increase our distress, Satan was pursuing hard after us. I have no recollection of having seen him, but I have of hearing the shrieks of others whom he caught, and was every moment in fear of being caught myself. I did not dare to look behind me, lest it should retard my flight. It is utterly impossible to describe the terror I then felt. My strength was so much exhausted that it did not seem possible that I could much longer continue my flight, and my foot hold seemed more and more precarious, and to add to my affliction, the land was receding. Consternation and despair got hold on me: I thought if I could fly, I might possibly escape, and at the same moment I lifted my eyes, and in the air I saw a place of safety two or three hundred feet high; and at an angle of about forty-five degrees. But I had no wings unless I could substitute my arms for wings. Immediately my arms became wings, and I found myself fluttering and rising. The place which I beheld, was a sort of cupola or gallery; the part towards me was of semicircular form, in which was the appearance of three persons, apparently of angelic form, the middle figure or person rather advanced, and all appeared perfectly stationary. But I found myself by no means an artist at flying: however I continued to rise, and thought best to endeavor to shape my course so as to rise higher than this gallery, lest, in consequence of my awkwardness in flying, I should make some blun