For this purpose, I must pass over all the destruction and barbarity of the voyage, and meet the few meagre survivors on their arrival in the West-Indies. Here they are bound by their articles^[1], to receive half their wages in the currency of the island. This is a two-fold grievance. They are robbed of as much hardly-earned money, as makes the difference between currency and sterling, which is far from being an inconsiderable loss. But there is a farther mischief attendant on this injustice. Imagine to yourself, Sir, a poor worn-out wretch, after the miseries and sickness of a _slaving voyage_—after a long want of every cheering beverage—now first set ashore—his own master—among people of his own colour and language—with money in his pocket, and temptations to excess on every side: picture this—and for a moment recollect the unsuspecting, thoughtless, dissipated propensity that marks the character of a British sailor, and must you not conclude the consequence as anavoidable—that the feeble remains left, by the cruelty and disease of an _African voyage_, are speedily sacrificed by West Indian intemperance? From death and desertion, _thus encouraged_, few escape. I went out in a certain vessel; the crew consisted of thirty-two or upwards; she was designed to be left on the coast as a floating factory. A fresh ship of 300 tons, was sent out to bring off the purchase to the West Indies, with a crew to replace our dead. The captain of the latter, and a few to make trade were left on the coast; the rest embarked with us for the West Indies—of the two crews, there came home but the captain, the carpenter, and myself. By such means, they get rid of those who might call them to an account for their barbarities—and the money due to those, whom they have obliged to desert, is saved to their owners. The mortality, usually ascribed to a Guinea voyage, stops or lessens the proper inquiries about the fate of the crew. Besides, improvident, heedless sailors, seldom give their friends a line of advice, relative to the port they sail from, or on what particular voyage they are bound; especially a voyage that is held in so much dishonour and contempt. Though I remained a long time in Liverpool, after our arrival, there were inquiries but after four persons out of the two crews above mentioned, and one of those was from Falmouth, and the other from the farther part of Wales. And I am convinced, (for I managed all their little accounts) that of the first crew, officers excepted, not one of them had sent their friends the smallest account of their destination. Thus, silently, does the nation lose her most useful subjects: and in this manner is the public deprived of an impartial channel of information, and of the means of developing a system of iniquity, from the flimsy web, in which it has so long been veiled by sophistry and misrepresentation. [1] The practice of Liverpool, the only port I sailed from in that employ.