Accident or curiosity, I forget which, led me to attend the religious services of the Baptists in Salem. They were enjoying a season of religious refreshing: several were baptized. The hymn beginning with the line-- “Oh, how happy are they who their Saviour obey,” was sung as the converts came out of the water, and made a strong impression on my mind. Had some devoted Christian made himself acquainted with my feelings, and given me suitable advice, there is no doubt but that I should have been led to embrace the Lord Jesus Christ. How many divine impressions are destroyed, through lack of faithfulness in Christians! Perhaps the great reason why these serious impressions were so transient, was because the company I kept was so unfavorable to their growth. Most of my time was spent about the shipping: among these were many privateers, the profanity of whose crews was such that it had passed into a proverb. It was usual to say to a gross swearer, “You swear like a privateer’s-man.” Religion could not flourish in an atmosphere tainted by their vices. Among my favorite pursuits was that of fishing. Sometimes I went with mixed parties of males and females; at others, with a few sailor companions. One of these excursions came very near costing rather more than it was worth. We had been out all night; towards morning we thought we would get a little sleep, and for this purpose laid ourselves down under the top-gallant forecastle. Luckily for us, we had an old sailor, named Lewis Deal, on board. He had been quartermaster on board the _United States_. Knowing that the coast was strictly guarded by British cruisers, he kept awake. Just at dawn the _bang_ of a single gun led him to call us, saying, “There, I told you to look out for Johnny Bull.” Looking about us, we saw an English gun brig in chase after a Boston sloop. This was a sight that inspired us with a very sudden and wonderful agility, since we had a decided repugnance to a free passage in the aforesaid brig to Halifax; especially as in my case it might have the rather unpleasant termination of an airing at the yard-arm; which, for very strong reasons I chose to avoid if possible. By dint of strong arms and quick movements, we succeeded in hauling in our anchor and getting under weigh, without attracting the Englishman’s attention. Expecting a shot at our heels every moment, we sat breathlessly measuring our distance from the brig. Fortunately, we escaped notice, and reached Salem in safety.