Chapter VI: Voyage to Liberia (1)

"Be sure they sleep not whom God needs, nor fear
Their holding light his charge, when every hour
That finds that charge delayed is a new death,

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So intimate a tie connects me with our God."

BROWNING.

There is wonderful harmony in God's work in the different kingdoms and sub-kingdoms of His domain. When His method of working is resisted, there is always harsh conflicting, and finally He removes the obstacle; but wherever we look, so long as there is a submission to His plan, there is never a jar, never a halt on the road to the great end which He has in view, be it in the growth of a tree, in the motion of a world through space, in the maturity of animal or human life, or in the development of spiritual being. But the first rule that must be fulfilled before He can rightly use any of His intelligent creations is that they fully submit themselves to Him to be trained and used. Just as the brook yields strict obedience to the gentle impulse which moves it from its source on through its winding channel to its home in the great ocean of waters, so all who are to be the servants of the Most High must be _willing_ to become the instruments through which He works, and must let Him flow through unhindered. Those whom He will use He prepares just as much, and in a higher sense, as He makes the lily grow--not by any toiling and spinning on its part, but by putting a life within it which animates and builds up the whole structure; and as the lily adorns the spot in which He puts it, so His workmen should beautify the vineyard where He sets them.

It is a very marked fact in the lives of the two of whom I am writing that they not only gave themselves up to be prepared by Him who was to use them, but they also waited until He showed them where they should work. There is work everywhere which is waiting to be done, nor does any one do well who idly sits still until he is told just where to begin, but God has His chosen workmen fitted on purpose for a special place, as much as an earthly master-builder, and the time comes to every one when it is imperative for him to hear the order which he is to execute. The Lord spake unto Moses often, and He who made known His ways then has power to tell His will to whom he wishes now, and the proper messenger does not embark before the message comes.

I find in the earlier life of Eli and Sybil Jones that their great, absorbing wish was that they might be in full harmony with Him whom they served. They looked up to be taught, and He gave just the right service to enlarge and strengthen their powers, so that they might be prepared for the more difficult undertaking which now presented itself. No one who reads the journal which follows will think they went to Liberia prompted by their own feelings, but the service was evidently _laid upon them_.

To understand properly the struggle through which Sybil Jones passed before leaving her home, it will be necessary to picture to ourselves the circumstances surrounding her nearly half a century ago. She had grown to womanhood in a little town in Maine, having exceedingly limited opportunities for obtaining a knowledge of the world and the ways of men and women; she was now the mother of five children, who needed their parents' care; she had just undergone the sorrow of seeing many dear to her pass from earth, while still others of her family were already on deathbeds: and now she was to go from all that earth held dearest to her, perhaps never to see even her own country again. To-day to travel is the ordinary course; fifty years ago it was a rare and momentous event for one to go far from home. It would seem most hazardous to a frail woman to go from Maine to Baltimore, there to embark, not in a steamer with modern conveniences, but in a sailing-packet with rough passengers and still rougher crew, for the west coast of Africa. Let us not wonder as we read her account that she waited long and counselled earnestly with her own heart, for if she should go self-sent only perils insurmountable would be before her, but on God's errands, sent by His command, she knew of nothing to fear.

The _Friends' Review_ for 6th mo. 28, 1851, has the following paragraph: "In the meeting of ministers and elders of New England Yearly Meeting on Seventh day, 14th, our dedicated friend Sybil Jones opened a prospect of an extensive religious visit to Great Britain, Ireland, some parts of the continent of Europe, Sierra Leone, Liberia, and some islands on the west coast of Africa and in the West Indies; and her husband, Eli Jones, informed the meeting that he believed it his duty to bear her company in this extensive and arduous engagement. The subject obtained the weighty and feeling consideration of the meeting, and, though Friends were fully sensible to the magnitude and importance of the undertaking and of the apparently inadequate state of her health, such a current of unity with the prospect was experienced that all doubt of its propriety was taken away; and they were accordingly liberated for the service. The sympathy and prayers of their friends will unquestionably follow them."

As the most of the following year's work was in Liberia, it may be well to speak briefly of the position and condition of that country.

Liberia is a negro republic on the west coast of Africa. Its length along the coast is about three hundred and eighty miles, and its entire area about twenty-four thousand square miles. Sierra Leone, the country to the north of Liberia, was colonized by colored men from Great Britain, assisted by such men as Grenville Sharp, Wilberforce, and Clarkson, the first settlement being made in 1787, and composed partly of negroes who had served in the British army during our Revolutionary War. This and successive colonies were terribly weakened by the death-stroke of the African fever, but they were finally successful; and American philanthropists, who were eager to help an unfortunate race, founded here in 1822 a colony of freedmen who might enjoy the political and social privileges denied to them in the United States. The town of Monrovia was founded and named after James Monroe, then President. They landed in the midst of heathendom, and the first years were years of struggle; but these colored men showed that they could govern themselves. They drew up a constitution much like the American, the first article of which read, "All men are born equally free and independent, and among their natural inherent and inalienable rights are the rights of enjoying and defending life and LIBERTY;" and the fourth section, "There shall be no slavery within this republic."

The republic has a President, Senate, House of Representatives, and a judicial department, so that good laws are passed, explained, and enforced. In 1847 the republic declared its independence, and was finally in 1861 recognized by the United States as a sovereign state. The Methodist Church established a mission here in 1833; the Presbyterian Church followed this example, and sent J. B. Penny into the field the same year. The American Episcopal Church was at work in the republic as early as 1836, while the Baptists turned their attention there in 1845, so that it was in fact a "missionary republic." The present population of the republic comprises about 18,000 civilized negroes, chiefly of American origin, and 1,050,000 half-wild natives, who are gradually adopting a settled life and conforming to the habits of their civilized countrymen. Professor David Christy said in a lecture in 1855: "If a colony of colored men, beginning with less than a hundred, and gradually increasing to nine thousand, has in thirty years established an independent republic amidst a savage people, destroyed the slave-trade on six hundred miles of the African coast, put down the heathen temples in one of its largest districts, afforded security to all the missions within its limits, and now casts its shield over three hundred thousand native inhabitants, what may not be done in the next thirty years by colonization and missions combined were sufficient means supplied to call forth all their energies?"

It was during this visit to Liberia that Eli Jones first felt his heart fill with zeal for missionary work. One day, going to pay a visit to President Roberts, he found a large band of fierce natives assembled in the President's room to have him arbitrate their quarrel. The dispute being settled peacefully, the President introduced Eli Jones, asking a noble-looking chief if he would like to have this man go with them to talk about God to their tribe. The prompt and earnest answer was, "Yes, and we will build him a house if he will come and stay." At once he saw in mind the needs of these and the thousands of other human beings waiting for some one to bring to them the fuller teaching of the way to a higher Christian civilization, and from that date he was more than ever desirous to be an instrument of help.

The following poem was written by Elizabeth Lloyd[4] on the departure of Eli and Sybil Jones for Africa:

[4] Afterward Elizabeth Howell. She is the author of the beautiful
lines entitled "Milton in his Blindness."

THE GOSPEL MESSENGER.

"Behold, I will send my messenger."

Dedicated to a service high and holy from above;
Guided by the inward teaching of a heavenly Father's love,
Listening to the soft monitions whispered in her spirit's ear,
Answering to the call like Samuel, "Lo, my Father, I am here,"
Child-like in her meek submission, His appointing to fulfil,
Trusting in His strength for safety, she went forth to do His will.

Bearing up His "ark of promise," she the weak became the strong,
In her heart a hymn of praising, on her lips a triumph song;
"Thou hast vanquished, O my Saviour--Thou who bore my sins for me;
Sanctify with thy anointing sacrifices made for thee.
As of old Thou ledst Thy children, showing them the cloud by day
And by night the fiery pillar, so lead me along my way.

"If I falter, if my heart be tempted by its doubts and fears,
If my eyes, to heaven uplifted, see Thee only through their tears;
If the clinging of love's tendrils bind my thoughts to things of earth,
And between me and my duty come the dreams of home and hearth,--
Oh have pity on me, Father, and if I should go astray
Let Thy angels, Faith and Patience, point me to the narrow way.

"Clear before me let the shining of Thy holy light arise,
Far behind me cast the shadow of my own poor sacrifice.
Can I doubt when I remember how the sea was cleft in twain,
And, a wall of waters rising, left a valley in the main
That Thy people might pass over on the golden-sanded path,
So to sing their song of triumph, safe from the pursuer's wrath?

"Can I fear when I remember Thou didst feed them day by day,
With thy manna, that like hoarfrost round the tents of Israel lay;
In the wilderness wast with them till their tarriance was o'er,
Sweetened Marah's bitter fountain, opened Horeb's rock-bound door?
Nay, Thy power and might, as ever, all omnipotent shall be:
'Rock of Ages,' what can move me if I lean my soul on Thee?"

Where the palms of Afric gather up the tropic heats by day,
Where the jerboa and the lion in their evening shadows play,
Where the streams are coral-bedded and the mountains gemmed with gold,
She is bearing forth a treasure human heart alone may hold--
Oil to pour on troubled spirits, seed to sow in barren place,
Soothing balm of consolation, knowledge of anointing grace.

"Ethiopia and the islands," far away her mission lies:
From the sweet New England homestead underneath her native skies,
To Liberia's dark-browed children, Sierra Leone's struggling band,
She has messages from heaven, guided by the Father's hand.
She is pointing out salvation: "Christ has no partition-wall;
We are children of one Father, and His love redeemed us all."

Oh, the fettered slave may hear it, sinking 'neath his weight of woe;
In the northland, in the southland, streams of gospel love may flow.
Not a partial gleam, a star-ray, gilding but a single night,
Was God's thought in His creation when He said, "Let there be light;"
Not a single soul's redemption when that piercing cry went up,
"Eloi lama sabacthani!" ere He drank death's bitter cup.

But a world-illuminating flood of radiance was born
When the angels sang rejoicing o'er the earth's baptismal morn,
And the souls of all created, and the souls of all to be,
Are partakers of redemption by that death on Calvary,
That divine self-abnegation of the holy Son of man--
Thought sublime in its expansion, theme beyond our finite scan.

Oh, the human heart a temple for the Saviour's love may be
In all nations, in all climates, on the land or on the sea:
Sect or color bars not entrance; only Sin her watch may set,
Keeping Him without the portals till with dew his locks are wet;
But He ceases not from calling, "Garnish and make clean for me;
Drive away the money-changers, in their place let angels be."

Through His instruments He calleth, humble tho' they be and weak,
That the deaf ears may be opened and the sealed lips may speak,
That the maimed may halt no longer, and the blinded eyes may see,
And the lepers, healed and cleansed, glorifying God may be.
Ignorance and sin are blindness, but as morning after night
Is the heart's regeneration when God says, "Let there be light."

The following account has been selected from Sybil Jones's journal. It was written to be published soon after their return, but publication was delayed, and now for the first time it is made public. It will show, as few other writings, the emotions and strivings of a sincere seeking soul. Her journals speak little, especially in her earlier visits, of natural surroundings and ordinary events, for her spiritual work seemed so weighty that nothing was allowed to turn her eyes from that:

* * * * *

SO. CHINA, _12 mo., 1850._ Painful are the baptisms that my poor trembling soul tries to endure patiently. Forgive me, most gracious God, if I dare repine. Death seems again lingering on our borders, and the remnant of a once large family must soon diminish. My worthy father seems drawing near the silent grave, but full of bright hopes of a mansion in the eternal city. Though well knowing that the "Judge of all the earth" will do right, yet sad is the thought that soon we must lose his cheerful society and instructive counsel. Oh that this deep affliction may prove a salutary cup to the soul, though very bitter to the taste! I learn many awful lessons while sitting by his bedside. It is a foretaste of heaven sweetly blended with a hope of reunion around the throne. My soul is weighed down with the prospect of more extended service in the cause of our holy Redeemer, and lingers tremblingly on Jordan's banks. Oh, this Jordan seems awful, but I must descend to its bottom, and may the eternal God be my refuge, and underneath the everlasting arms! The billows overwhelm, and I sink in deep mire where there is no standing. My health is frail and my spirits flag. But amid all, the unchanging Rock is my support.

_1st mo., 1851._ With the unity of my friends I performed some errands of love in some portions of our own yearly meetings. I went forth in fear and much weakness, but through abounding mercy the peace of God fills my heart. In the course of this visit I had a very interesting public meeting in Nantucket. My spirit had long lingered around that little island of the sea, and sweet was our communion together in the love and power of truth. Dear father met me joyfully and expressed great thankfulness for being permitted to meet me again below. He said his soul was filled with a Saviour's love, and he longed to go home to his heavenly rest, to join with saints and angels in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb for ever and ever. It was a time of blessed communion. My mind is deeply impressed with the language uttered frequently in my inward ear: "Go offer a sacrifice similar to my servant Abraham's;" which causes great fearfulness to come upon me, and a sense of utter unworthiness and inability for such a momentous work, feeling the least and last of those who name the great Name.

_2d mo._ Dear father seems near his eternal joy. He told me to-day that he had been thinking I had a prospect of some service in a distant land, and wished to know if I thought of such a thing. As I had not named it to any one, and felt restrained from speaking of it, I hesitated, but at length opened my feelings, at which he seemed introduced into much sympathy, and desired me to be faithful, and then placed his hands upon me, and poured out a fervent prayer to our Father in heaven on my behalf for His holy presence to go with me, and His almighty power to keep me from all evil. It was a solemn season, for the painful and yet happy thought mingled in this communion that when my frail bark must venture on dangerous seas his would be for ever anchored on the shore of immortal joy.

This day I have been summoned to my sainted father's bed of death. He was happy, full of heavenly peace, and, resting his ransomed spirit on his Saviour's breast, there breathed his life sweetly away. Our loss is great, but his gain glorious.

_2d mo._ We have conveyed his cherished form to its last resting-place, and Jesus was with us and presided over all. Oh let his name be praised and his matchless goodness be adored.

_3d mo._ My dear brother Augustine, whose health has been declining for some years, seems rapidly following father, at which our hearts are so stricken that sorrow's bitter tears, fast falling on a sainted father's grave, are even shared by our dearest brother, on whose cheek flushes the crimson hectic omen of dissolution. The painful thought of the departure of our dear brother, the last earthly prop of the family, seemed agonizing to our hearts. While these afflictive dispensations are meted out, my spirit dwells in the great depths of self-abasedness, and bears upon it too the burden of a Saviour's love to sinners in a far-distant land. Oh fix the trust of my tempest-tossed soul immutably upon the unchanging Rock!

To-day I have returned from visiting my sweet brother. He thankfully acknowledges the mercy of being so calm and comfortable, though rapidly hasting to the silent grave. Soon after the Lord saw fit to plunge his soul into deep baptism for its purification. His distress seemed entirely indescribable, but, being encouraged to believe it was a refining process, though thus painful, to prepare him to partake more fully of the joys of God's salvation, his faith seemed strengthened to hope for mercy and deliverance in the Lord's time; which time at last came, and ushered in the dawn of a glorious morning without clouds. His heart was full of songs of joy. His constant theme was the unsearchable riches of Christ. One day when I entered his sick-room, he exclaimed, "Dear sister, I am glad to see thee: I want to tell thee the joy of my soul. I have heard the language, as intelligibly as anything I hear with my outward ear, 'Speak comfortably unto Jerusalem, cry unto her that her warfare is accomplished, her iniquity is pardoned, for she hath received at the Lord's hand double for all her sin;' and, though I am most unworthy, I believe this is applied to me, for my peace flows like a river." He lived about five weeks from this time, and had indeed no more conflicts; not a doubt or a cloud obstructed the continual shining of the glorious Sun of Righteousness. He often said that he was as full of songs of joy as his poor heart could hold.

Deep baptisms abide me, and such a painful sense is given me of my own inability and nothingness that I am ready to shrink from attempting to open the subject to my friends. My poor tempest-tossed soul dwells near the valley and shadow of death. Liberia seems to press upon my mind, but can all this be called for at such weak hands?

I have omitted to mention in its place a testimony of my dear brother's to me a short time before his death. In an interview together he thus expressed himself: "Dear sister, I have thought for some time past that the Master had a service for thee in distant lands across the ocean, and I have this to say to thee: _Go_ with thy life in thy hand. It should not concern thee whether thou sees thy native land again or not: heaven is as near there as here. Go and tell the sinner of a Saviour's love; bear the good tidings to lands afar off. I wish you to make timely arrangements, so as to move along quietly." I replied: "Dear brother, I do not wish to repine at my lot, but I have been thinking that thou art soon to be released from the conflict, and that I must remain still longer in the field, and may make some misstep and never reach thy glorious home." To which he replied, looking at me most impressively: "The dear Saviour will never leave thee; He will never leave thee, but when thy work is finished he will bring thee to meet me in heaven." This seemed a renewed evidence that the service was required, but so deep was my sense of frailty and entire inability to do the work that I could not believe that the Master would select me to go on such an important embassy, a service of such vast moment. The evidence had been very clear, but the feeling of unfitness for the work seemed to hedge up the way entirely, and I thought unless some person would come to me and tell me the Lord required it and would fit me for the work, I would not take a step. I thought I could not receive it but from some one clothed with gospel authority; and in looking over this class I selected dear Benjamin Seebohm, who I knew was somewhere in America. I was very much reduced in health, attributable to painful watchings and partings, for I slept little and had little appetite for food. Our monthly meeting day arrived, and, though my health was so frail that I had gotten out to meeting but little for some time, I felt an almost irresistible impression to go. I accordingly went. As I entered the door almost the first person I met was Benjamin Seebohm. I could not have been more surprised at the appearance of any person. In a moment my request rushed into my mind, and thought I, "I am caught now; I have done wrong in asking this sign, and may the Lord forgive me and in mercy overlook this presumption, and not grant the request unless it is His will, in condescension to my low estate." The meeting gathered under a great solemnity. It seemed to me that this weighty service fell upon it, and after a time of very solemn silence dear Benjamin arose and took up an individual case, and so exactly described my feelings and the service that no doubt remained but the Most High had sent him with this message to me. My soul was poured out like water and all my bones shook. I thought all present knew it was I, though not one but my husband had been apprised of it (it having been to me too sacred a thing to speak of). Indeed, I thought I was a spectacle for men and angels, while the thoughts of my heart were revealed before many witnesses and the work of the Lord proclaimed in demonstration of the Spirit and with power. He spoke most cheeringly--explained feelings of poverty as preparatory to this work, that the creature may be laid low in the dust and the blessed Name alone be magnified; said the Lord would abundantly furnish for every good word and work; that he reduced the creature that all dependence on itself might be entirely removed, and our confidence firmly fixed on Himself, who is the eternal foundation of wisdom and knowledge. I did not see Benjamin again until the day after my dear brother's funeral, when he came to our house and lodged. He had a meeting in the place, and precious and heart-searching was his gospel message. He likewise had a sweet opportunity with the mourners at the house of my lamented brother's widow. Long will this beloved Friend and his consoling heavenly testimony be remembered.

_5th mo., Seventh day._ To-day is our select meeting, and my trembling spirit is loth to fly, and yet afraid to yield. Who, indeed, can know the agony of my spirit, save

"He who rolls the planets in their spheres
And counts the lowly mourner's tears?"

I thought it best to name my prospect to my two oldest children, a son sixteen and a daughter twelve. The reply of both was, "Go, mother," though their full hearts would hardly allow utterance until tears lent relief. With me words were nearly lost in feeling as I stood on Jordan's bank again to tempt its fearful tide and deeper tread beneath its wave. I had sat down to compose my thoughts for meeting, with my grief-worn mother, by the side of the cradle where lay (all unconscious of the deep pangs that rent our hearts) my dear little Grelet, about ten months old. The rest had all come in and were seated around, when my dear James Parnell, as if fully conscious of what was passing in his mother's heart, took a book and commenced reading the following lines:

"FORWARD AND FEAR NOT.

"Forward and fear not; the billows may roll,
But the power of Jehovah their rage can control.
The waves are in anger, but their tumult shall cease;
One word of His bidding will hush them to peace.

"Forward and fear not; though trials be near,
The Lord is thy refuge; whom shouldst thou fear?
His staff is thy comfort, thy safeguard His rod;
Be sober, be steadfast, and hope in thy God.

"Forward and fear not; though false ones deride,
The hand of the Highest is with thee to guide;
His truth is thy buckler, His love is thy shield;
On, then, to the combat--be sure not to yield.

"Forward and fear not; be strong in the Lord,
In the power of His promise, the trust of His word.
Through the sea and the desert thy pathway may tend,
But He who has saved thee will save to the end.

"Forward and fear not; speed on the way,
Why dost thou shrink from thy path in dismay?
Thou tread'st but the path that thy Leader hath trod;
Then forward and fear not, but trust in thy God."

So appropriate and touching were the sentiments that we were brought into tenderness.

I have had many fears that the weight of the important visit will not be fully valued by all my dear friends. My earnest prayer has been that they may feel its weight as I have done, if it is of the Lord; if not, that they may see it right to take the burden and release me. I have this day ventured in great fear and much trembling to open my prospect in the select meeting, and, to my trembling admiration, it fell with solemn weight and awfulness upon the assembly. The great Head of His own Church dispensed His holy power and presence and condescended to be a Spirit of judgment to those who sat in judgment, and an entire unity prevailed and cemented our hearts together in the strong bonds of gospel fellowship and love, and the great Name was held in reverence by those about Him. I feel somewhat relieved, and, having cast the burden upon my friends, the return of evening finds me trusting in my Saviour in sweet peace.

To-day is our monthly meeting, my health very frail, and my spirit awfully bowed before the Most High. A sense of utter inability to proceed in this momentous subject brings my soul into the dust of death, but "I will look unto the hills from whence cometh my strength." I was unable to attend the first meeting, and in great bodily infirmity went to the last meeting to attend to the business before me. I was strengthened to stand up and to open to my dear friends the service on my mind for the Lord my God in a distant land. It fell with great impressiveness, and yet as the gentle dew, upon the solemn assembly, and all present seemed to have a sweet feeling of unity and sympathy. The mountains indeed flowed down at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob.

To-day our quarterly meeting convened, and it was signally owned by the holy Head. In and over the first meeting was a sweet solemnity, which lost none of its sweetness after separation to transact the weighty business of the Church, which to me never seemed more weighty. I was mercifully helped again to spread the important prospect before the Church, which received its full and cordial unity, and many living testimonials were given forth to the power and goodness of Him whose ways are not as our ways. My heart was reverently bowed before Him who makes a way through the roaring billows of discouragement and causeth the mountains to flee away at His presence before the footsteps of His little ones.

_6th mo., Newport._ Arrived on the island last evening, and to-day I have to bring my prospect before the Church in its select yearly meeting capacity. While I have not a doubt but the great Master requires me to make the sacrifice of laying the burden upon my friends for their disposal, I feel a fervent desire that we may not be permitted to proceed unless it is the Lord's will. May it please Him in whom are the treasures of wisdom and knowledge to dispense the spirit of wisdom and judgment to the Church, and may the awfulness of the service, with a sense of His dread majesty, power, and holy cementing love, mantle the whole assembly! I took my seat with my friends as a weaned child, passive in His holy hands whose will only I wished to know and do, with great fear upon my spirit. The Lord helped me to declare unto the Church what seemed to be His holy will who declareth unto man what are His thoughts, who maketh the morning darkness and treadeth upon the high places of the earth. The Lord, the God of hosts, is His name. A solemn awe pervaded the assembly, and at the place of prayer each spirit seemed to wait until a door of communication was opened by Him who openeth and none can shut. The mind of the blessed Head through the eternal Spirit was given forth in many living testimonials. Great unity prevailed. The prophetic declaration seemed applicable: "God came from Teman and the Holy One from Mount Paran; His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was filled with His praise." My soul returns unto her rest with songs of joy. The endorsements placed upon our certificates by the select meeting of ministers and elders have been read to-day, which brought the subject again before the meeting, and it proved the calling of a solemn assembly and the charge reposed in the Church. Our beloved Benjamin Seebohm expressed, near the conclusion, that he had never seen the trust of disposing of these weighty affairs better redeemed than in the present instance. The convocation was concluded in reverent, fervent supplication by dear Lindley Murray Hoag, wherein near access was granted to the mercy-seat. We were committed to the holy keeping and safe guidance of the blessed Shepherd when we should be in distant lands across the great deep, and a rich heavenly blessing was implored upon our tender children, whom for Jesus' sake we must leave behind.

This evening we had a youth's meeting, which, as it reflected no glory upon the creature, may have brought honor to the Creator. Our yearly meeting was highly blessed with the holy Presence, which continued through its several sittings. On leaving the island the language of my heart was, "Thou, O my Father, hast dealt very graciously with the last and least and most unworthy." But now comes the bitterness of death, to leave all most dear in this life and go with our lives in our hands at the bidding of the blessed Master; but my earnest prayer is that we may be cheerful givers, for the Lord loveth such. Every step thus far has been taken in the ability which He gives us. As He has ordered our steps, so may we be fully His.

After reaching home we began making arrangements for embarking. It seemed best to break up the family, as no suitable person could be found to take care of the dear children, and we desired in this thing to be directed by Him who hath called us to His work. Our eldest son intends going to Haverford, a Friends' college in Pennsylvania, with which we are well satisfied. As he is at the tender age of sixteen, we had felt much solicitude as to his place and associates, and this prospect seems favorable, as he will have good company, and dear Marmaduke and Sarah Cope of Philadelphia have most kindly offered to take particular charge of him.

Many have been the marks of divine regard to us and ours. We had often thought of Liberia on the western coast of Africa as our first step, but thought we must of necessity go by way of England; but in the midst of our arrangements we received intelligence that the Liberia packet was daily expected from the coast, and would return soon--that it was the safest and most comfortable conveyance, and that it would stop for a few days to two weeks at most of the principal ports on the African coast, so that we could lodge on board every night; which was, with little exception, an entire protection from the acclimating fever so dangerous to the life of a Northerner. We sought in this exigency divine direction, as we must leave so much sooner than we had planned. This brought the final parting so near that heart and flesh seemed to fail, and the dear children seemed much grieved and cast down at this sudden wrench, as it were, of heart from heart in the most tender and endearing relations. Our dear brother Cyrus seemed on the verge of eternity: we had hoped to have seen him quietly at rest ere we left our native land, and to have more time to visit our other beloved relatives. We were brought very low, even into the deeps, before the most high God, and there in fervent supplication raised our hearts to heaven in this our hour of need; and the watchword was, "Gird on thy sword, take thy helmet and march; the Lord hath need of thee now, for the enemy mustereth his host, and my soldiers must be in readiness." Impalpable mountains seemed to intervene, and high and fearful swelled Jordan's deep waves. In this great strait the language was intelligible: "Stand still and see the salvation of God."

_7th mo. 14th, Second day._ We received a telegraphic despatch that the ship would sail the 20th, which would occur the next First day. Our time seemed limited indeed. To-day our monthly meeting occurred, and it was the greatest solemnity, I think, ever witnessed there. Then came the pangs of parting; the ties of consanguinity and gospel fellowship were being suddenly and unexpectedly torn asunder; we might meet again, but probably it was a final separation to some present. Our hearts were poured out like water before the Lord and for each other's welfare. Several touching testimonies were given forth--I might safely say as the Spirit gave utterance. Dear James Owen from Indiana delivered a solemn and pathetic message touching the case of our immediate departure. Our prayers were that our departure from those with whom we had so long endeavored to labor faithfully might stimulate them to greater dedication and faithfulness.

_17th._ Making arrangements for our expedition, believing it to be a divine opening for us, entirely without our aid or concern. This P. M. we must leave and proceed as far as Vassalboro' to take the cars to-morrow morning. What tongue can tell my soul's anguish as the tears flowed fast from each child's almost bursting heart? Had it not been for the gentle accents of a Saviour's love, "It is I, be not afraid; leave thy children with me," I could not have left them. We took our dear children to the home of dear husband's father, two of whom--viz. Sybil Narcissa and Richard Mott--we intended to take to Providence School. There we must bid adieu to dear brother Cyrus, father and mother, brothers and sisters, and friends who had collected to take their leave. Here we had concluded to leave our little Susan Tabor, about three years and a half old, who would often look in my face and exclaim with a touching look that reached my very heart, "Don't leave me, mother, thy little daughter; I will be a nice little lady; thee won't leave me, will thee?" The strength of Israel was my confidence at that moment. Our dear brother took our hands, and after pronouncing the words, "The Lord be with you!" he whispered the last and sad farewell while all around were weeping. We then took an affectionate leave of all present, and left the sweet scenes of childhood for perhaps many a year. Then proceeded to our friend Daniel Runnel's, where was our Eli Grelet, not quite a year old. My heart yearned over this lovely boy, whom I must cast from me. Then we separated, taking the train for Providence School and dear James Parnell, who was to take us to the cars. We arrived at our esteemed friend Alton Pope's, where many Friends had collected, among whom were the Indiana Friends and dear John D. Lang and wife. We sat down together for a little time, and great tenderness and solemnity prevailed. I have lost two dear brothers and five sisters and an estimable father, but never did such hallowed, solemn, and unearthly feelings steal over my overcharged heart as on this memorable day. We rose early in the morning, and after taking leave of our much-loved friends, Alton and Theodate Pope, hastened to the cars. Dear James seemed more cheerful than I supposed he could be. At length we reached the dépôt, and the painful moment came to bid adieu to our dear child; his bosom swelled with emotion and fast fell the bitter tears. With a full heart I pronounced my last parting blessing: "Dearest boy, farewell; God bless and keep thee! I make this request as though it were my last: give thy heart to thy dear Saviour now in thy youthful days; He will comfort thy heart when we are far away." We arrived at New Bedford the same evening. On our way we paused a few minutes at Portland, met our dear friends R. and Sarah Horton, had a parting opportunity at the dépôt. Next stopped a few minutes at Lynn, and several friends accompanied us to Boston, where we had to wait about an hour, which was very pleasant, as the company of those dear friends was very cheering to us. They brought us several packages of useful and interesting things for our comfort on board of the ship. Our hearts were touched with grateful feelings for their Christian kindness. At New Bedford lives my only sister; her health is so frail it is not probable (should we return) that she will survive till that time.

_18th._ This morning we took the cars for Providence. The children seemed to forget their trouble in their interest in new objects. We stopped about four hours in Providence, where we left the children and parted with our friends Joseph and Sybil Estes, who had accompanied us from Vassalboro'. We took our leave of the dear inmates of the Friends' school in a collective capacity--a very solemn season, our two little ones being with them. We bowed before the Most High and commended them to the care of Him whose mercy endures for ever. The dear children, with several others, went with us to the dépôt, where dear Samuel Boice and wife joined us. We gave a farewell glance to all. The dear little ones' faces were bathed in tears. Here it would be proper to say that we received the kindest attention from the superintendents, Silas and Sarah Cornell, and many others. These dear friends exerted themselves to procure some more needful things for us with great interest. Having so little time, and going by the way of Africa, we were lacking in some things which they most kindly supplied. May Heaven's blessings rest upon them!

_7th mo. 20th, 1851, Chesapeake Bay, on board Liberia packet._ We arrived in Baltimore about ten o'clock last evening, and found the ship had left the wharf and stood off about eight miles waiting for us, and that we should be expected to be on board this morning. Having taken a solemn and affecting leave of the last familiar face in our native land, we retired to our room, and, though now separated from all most dear, we felt the loving presence of our Saviour.

_21st._ Made some arrangements to fit up our little "floating home" to make it as agreeable as possible. Captain and officers very kind, and all seem inclined to try to make us happy.

_22d._ Retired to our cabin after breakfast to read a portion of Scripture and to wait upon the Lord. I felt drawn to supplicate the throne of grace for all on board our frail bark, that the God of our lives would keep us in safety and bless and protect our precious children in our absence. Our time is mostly taken up in writing, as the pilot will return at the capes. Dear Eli is engaged a part of the day in teaching the emigrants to read, cipher, etc. We have some interesting conversation with them, and find them as a whole rather intelligent, and even pious.

_24th._ Calms and head winds seem to be our daily portion, but the heavenly Pilot holds the ship and the winds in His holy hands. Teaching the emigrants and writing to our friends keep us busy; health comfortable.

_26th._ To-day brisk wind; we expect to pass the capes. At six o'clock the pilot-boat came alongside and took off the pilot and a large package of letters. We shall not hear from home or have any means of sending intelligence until we reach Africa.

_27th._ We behold another morning in safety. It is First day, but fearful has been the night. We had a thunder-shower with furious winds. The rain fell in torrents and the thunder rolled deep, while the vivid lightning seemed to envelop the ship in liquid fire. Our trembling vessel would dash into ocean's depths apparently, and then rise upon the mountain wave. We were brought to test ourselves whether we were willing to make our graves in the caverns of the deep or gird on the armor for the Lord's battles. To-day we entered the Gulf Stream. We are making ten miles an hour. We are so enfeebled with last night's rolling that we are neither of us able to sit up. The approach of night again fills us with apprehension. The night again stormy. We looked up in that hour of dismay and found an eye to pity and an arm to save.

_29th._ Stormy night, exceedingly rough; not safe to stay in our berths. With loss of appetite we are somewhat reduced. Felt somewhat as Noah's weary dove that found no place of rest above the cheerless waters.

_30th._ Boisterous weather still, but we are rapidly nearing Africa's distant coast. Our helpless souls hang on Thee.

_31st._ Rather more calm. My dear Eli is improving, though still feeble. A number of sweet little birds cheered us to-day, following the ship some distance. I think that they deserve a better name than "Mother Carey's chickens." At eleven o'clock we took our seats in our cabin (it being meeting-day at home) to try and worship Him who remains with them. Our spirits refreshed in blessed communion. At the evening sacrifice we had a fresh assurance of the angel of the Lord's presence. Delightful evening, every sail spread with fair wind. At twelve o'clock, 1360 miles from Cape Henry. We feel our infirmities, but can sing of the Lord's judgement and mercies.

_8th mo. 2d._ We have proceeded rapidly since leaving the capes; this is the seventh day since leaving them, and we have gone two thousand miles. Providence has sped us on our way. We find some very interesting persons among the emigrants, with whom we converse freely; we find them engaged to serve their God with diligence and love.

_First day._ A most charming morning. At eleven o'clock we sat down in our little meeting. We have felt a very painful exercise since being on board this ship. Our souls have been lifted up to God alone, that He would order our service for Him among the inmates of the ship, and the time, not daring to move (whatever we may suffer with the burden upon our spirits) until the command is given: for this we wait in watchfulness and prayer. After meeting it seemed best to us to try for a meeting, and, no obstacle appearing, at the time appointed nearly all assembled, and the short silence was blessed with His presence who is invisible. With awfulness and fear we ventured to make known our requests, and our dependent souls were made joyful in the house of prayer. Great solemnity pervaded the assembly, and these desperate spirits seemed contrited and made to fear. We were comforted with the spirits of a little band of humble followers of the Lord in this meeting, whom doubtless the Saviour loves. So great was my relief after this meeting that the language of my soul was, "Return unto thy rest, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee." Last night seemed sweet and peaceful. We heard neither oaths nor imprecations, with which our ears had been saluted many painful nights before our meeting. Fearfulness came upon us often when we heard the great Name blasphemed, and such angry threats that we thought there was great danger of their killing each other. A great change is apparent, especially with the captain. May the Ancient of Days be honored for His power!

_5th._ This morning the ocean is very smooth, scarcely a breath to ruffle the blue. We have made little progress for two days. A sail has been just in sight since First day P. M. We have been a little suspicious of it. This morning we discovered a small boat approaching; there was considerable conjecture with regard to the business of the little messenger. She came alongside, containing six men, one of whom tremblingly ascended the side of the ship, assisted by a rope. He looked around, apparently with mingled emotions of hope and fear; his first idea must have been that we had a cargo of slaves. He was met with looks of kindness, and informed us that the first mate was ill and that he came to obtain some assistance. It seemed they had been as shy of us as we of them, but at length necessity had driven them to the hazardous attempt. We had a colored physician on board, but he seemed very unwilling to go with them, still fearing that some trick might be played upon us. My husband offered to go with them, for which my heart rejoiced, for I had felt a secret distress for them, and thought we might be becalmed for some good to them. The little boat left the ship, and had not rowed half the distance before a brisk fair wind arose and filled our flagging sails, and away we made for the disturbed vessel, and soon came alongside. The boat returned for medicine, etc. It afforded my dear Eli great satisfaction to give them a little assistance from our small stock of comforts. To nearly all of us it seemed a providential interposition. A strong breeze now wafts us on with thankful hearts, I trust. The ship proved to be a whaler from Provincetown, out seven months. They wished for some books, and we had the pleasure of furnishing them with several interesting books, tracts, and papers, with which they seemed delighted. To-day we take the trade-winds, so that we have a fair prospect of a quick voyage; for this we feel we depend on Him who commands the wind. It seems that all hearts on board try to manifest their kindness and respect.

_6th._ Every sail filled with a delightful breeze. Were greatly refreshed together in reading and meditation upon Him who is our only crown of rejoicing in our low estate. Ability was granted to ask a blessing on the dear children. We have a very pleasant company--have not heard a profane word since the meeting. I never saw so great a change in a ship's crew. It is indeed the Lord's doings.

Saw a nautilus to-day. It spread its thin sail to catch the rising breeze. The sailors call it a "Portuguese man-of-war." Dear Eli is quite seasick to-day. At eleven o'clock sat down with as many emigrants as could be comfortably seated in our cabin, to try to worship Him who graciously sustains us upon the rolling deep. It proved a season of heavenly communion.

_8th mo. 3d, Sixth day_, lat. 33° 53' N., long. 36° W. A school of porpoises played round the ship for some time this morning. They seemed delighted at amusing us, jumping several feet out of the water and darting to and fro. We seemed nearing the shores of such intense interest to most on board, and, though a sea-life is not desirable, I do not feel anxious about reaching Africa. Great and fearful is our responsibility, and dangers seen and unseen are in this untrod path. May the God of our salvation have mercy upon us and direct our every step!

_First day, 10th._ Unable to sit up this morning. Dear Eli sat by my birth during meeting-hour, and our hearts were raised in aspiration heavenward. P. M. Able to sit up toward evening, and we concluded that it would be best to try for a meeting, which collected a little after sunset under a clear sky and a full moon, all canvas filled. The moon shed a mild intermingled gleam through the shrouds of our gallant ship, and delightful indeed were our meditations. The silence was at length broken by dear Eli in a feeling testimony to the universality of divine grace. The people were encouraged to forsake their sins and come to Jesus the Saviour of the world. It was a sweet, heavenly season. We felt to tell them that it was not a light thing to be thus remembered by Him who rolls the planets in their spheres. A great change is apparent in all on board. Everything is almost as we could wish, compared with what it was when we came. May we do nothing to diminish the reputation of our beloved Society!

The captain says that we are about six hundred miles from the coast of Africa in a straight line.

_14th of 8th mo._ Saw a whale to-day: shall pass the tropic of Cancer to-night; chilly. About two days' sail from Cape Verde.

_17th._ Cool and pleasant, very different from expectation in a tropical climate. I have been ill to-day; dear Eli somewhat better. It being First day, we were present in spirit with our friends at home in their meeting. Spoke a ship, and the captain and dear Eli took boat and went off to her. She proved to be the St. Paul, bound to Cowes. We sent a few lines home by her.

_20th._ A dreadful storm is on the main, and our ship is like a leaf in the winds. Several sails are split, and we may lose all before morning.