"_Thursday, 31st August._ Wind as directly ahead as it can blow; squally all night and tremendous sea. What a contrast does this voyage make with my first. This day makes the tenth day out and we have advanced towards home about three hundred miles. In my last voyage, on the tenth day, we had accomplished one half our voyage, sixteen hundred miles. "_Friday, 1st September._ Dreadful weather; wind still ahead; foggy, rainy, and heavy swell; patience almost exhausted, but the will of Heaven be done. If this weather is to continue I hope we shall have fortitude to bear it. All is for the best. "_Saturday, 9th September._ Nineteenth day out and not yet more than one third of our way to Boston. Oh! when shall we end this tedious passage? "_Sunday, 10th September._ Calm with dreadful sea. Early this morning discovered a large ship to the southward, dismasted, probably in the late gale. Discovered an unpleasant trait in our captain's character which I shall merely allude to. I am sorry to say he did not demonstrate that promptitude to assist a fellow creature in distress which I expected to find inherent in a seaman's breast, and especially in an American seaman's. It was not till after three or four hours' delay, and until the entreaties of his passengers and some threatening murmurs on my part of a public exposure in Boston of his conduct, that he ordered the ship to bear down upon the wreck, and then with slackened sail and much grumbling. A ship and a brig were astern of us, and, though farther by some miles from the distressed ship than we were, they instantly bore down for her, and rendered her this evening the assistance we might have done at noon. We are now standing on our way with a fair wind springing up at southeast, which I suppose will last a few hours. Spent the day in religious exercises, and was happy to observe on the part of the rest of the passengers a due regard for the solemnity of the day. "_Monday, 11th September._ Wind still ahead and the sky threatening.--Ten o'clock. Beginning to blow hard; taking in sails one after another.-- Three o'clock. A perfect storm; the gale a few days ago but a gentle breeze to it.... I never witnessed so tremendous a gale; the wind blowing so that it can scarcely be faced; the sea like ink excepting the whiteness of the surge, which is carried into the air like clouds of dust, or like the driving of snow. The wind piping through our bare rigging sounds most terrific; indeed, it is a most awful sight. The sea in mountains breaking over our bows, and a single wave dispersing in mist through the violence of the storm; ship rolling to such a degree that we are compelled to keep our berths; cabin dark with the deadlights in. Oh! who would go to sea when he can stay on shore! The wind in southwest driving us back again, so that we are losing all the advantages of our fair wind of yesterday, which lasted, as I supposed, two or three hours. * * * * *