Thirty Years From Home; or, a Voice From the Main Deck: Being the Experience of Samuel LeechLeech, Samuel
History
Thirty Years From Home; or, a Voice From the Main Deck: Being the Experience of Samuel Leech
Leech, Samuel
Adventure and adventurers; Leech, Samuel, 1798-1848; Sailors; United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Personal narratives
When the haying season commenced, I left my first employer, and
obtained the sum of eight dollars per month, and board; the wages,
however, in accordance with the true Yankee method of making money
out of everything, were to be payable at the village store. This
change led me into a situation which proved another link in the
chain, which ended in my conversion to God. The son of my employer
died; he was about fourteen years of age; in company with a pious
member of the Methodist church, I sat up one night with the corpse.
With the faithfulness of a true Christian, he improved the occasion
by seriously conversing with me on the great concerns of immortality.
His discourse, together with the funeral services, had a very
softening and gracious influence on my feelings, though the only
present, practical effect was a more punctual attendance on the
services of the sanctuary.
Towards winter, I went to live with Mr. Joseph Conant, to learn the
business of filing augers and steelyards. Here my acquaintance was
considerably enlarged, as several young men were attached to the
establishment. Among them was one who made a profession of religion.
As is usual among the young, we were devoted triflers; and he, to my
astonishment, was as jocose and merry as the rest. Ignorant as I was
of religion, his conduct appeared strangely inconsistent; I wondered
he did not converse with me about my soul. One day I took him aside
and faithfully expressed my views of his conduct. He acknowledged
his guilt. Afterwards we attended meetings in company, and he was
faithful in speaking with me about the things that belonged to my
salvation. He urged upon me the importance of giving myself up to
God at once, and affectionately invited me to attend class-meeting.
My mind was seriously inclined, but I could not yet venture upon so
close an intercourse with the people of God.
One Sabbath evening, my friend, Ela Dunham, who had dealt so
faithfully with me, when we watched together over the corpse of Orson
Kidder, asked me, “When do you intend to set out and seek religion?”
I replied, somewhat evasively, “Any time.”
“Well,” said he, “are you willing we should pray for you, and will
you go forward for prayers to-night?”
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