We then hauled off into the stream; towed by a steamboat, we soon cleared the harbor of New York. Sandy Hook speedily lay behind us; the pilot wished us a pleasant voyage, and away we dashed into the wide Atlantic, buoyed up by the confidence of the hope that a few weeks would behold us safely landed on the shores of dear old England. The details of a voyage across the Atlantic have been so often laid before the public by travellers, that they have now lost most of that interest which they would possess were they less familiar. I shall not, therefore, detain the reader with the particulars of my passage, except to quote the experience of one day from my journal. Saturday, June 12th. Went on deck early in the morning; found it very warm. We passed two ships on the same course with ourselves. I saw a rainbow on our starboard quarter, which reminded me of the old saying among sailors, “Rainbow in the morning, sailors take warning.” It was then blowing a stiff breeze from the west. All the sails were up, studding sails out below and aloft. The wind increased during the morning, with rain. We soon had heavy thunder, with sharp lightning; the weather growing squally, we took in our studding sails. Passed another ship; wind increasing with violent rain. One o’clock, P. M. Sailors have plenty to do to shorten sail. Furled top-gallant sails, reefed mizzen topsail, fore topsail, and main topsail. We are running before the wind like a race-horse, at the rate of twelve knots an hour. Two o’clock, P. M. More thunder and lightning, which threatened vengeance on our poor ship. The lightning is very sharp; we have no conductor up; it plays all around us, and, as it strikes the water, it hisses like red-hot iron. Several of the sailors felt a shock in descending the rigging, especially the first and second mates. We expected it would strike us every moment, but a kind Providence protected us. The sea runs very high, and the ship flies about as if crazy. We have two men at the helm, who can scarcely keep her right; it seems that she will pitch under every moment. Eight and one-half o’clock, P. M. Sea still rolling heavily; we have shipped several heavy seas. Nine o’clock, P. M. Wind has shifted, and the weather is clearing off. During the whole of this gale, many of the passengers were much alarmed, and some of them spent their time in praying and crying to the Lord. How strange that men will leave their eternal interests to an hour of danger, and forget them again the moment it passes away!