The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1839-05-11


LONDON, February, 1889.
Mr., Editor 1t has become kind of common
law, that every man who crosses the ocean, for
the purpose of travelling in foreign country, shall
give some account of himself while upon the great
waters This law would seem to be Imperative
in those cases where the result of ones observa-
tons abroad, is in any form, either for the insruc-
ton or amusement of others, to meet the public
eye While nothing new, and little that is even
moderately exciting, can be expected, where a
thousand minds have exhausted the richness and
variety of their powers, yet the usage referred to-
has its origin in the very nature of those circum
stances in which the adventurer from home and
country, finds himself at the moment, placed To-
say nothing of the somewhat singular posture of a
traveller who should announce himself in dis
tapt land, without any history of the mode in which
he had been transferred from one hemisphere to
another, or should undertake to give an account
of his wanderings abroad, without an ntimation,
that he had even left home-there are other and
higher considerations to be taken into view-con-
siderations which appeal to the heart, and with
which our better feelings are deeply concerned.
While there is congruity in the thing as pre-
scented to the intellec-a kind Of symmetry as
viewed by the eye of taste it may be safely affirm
ed that no man in whose bosom the pulse OF ma
ture beats, can step from the soil which he has
trodden from his infancy, and exchange the part
ing salutatons of friendship and feel the last fra
ternal grasp of the hand without wishing to re-
cord if it were only for his present gratitica-
ton, and as future memento of himself those
mental conActs-the alterations of dependency
and hope-which to him are novel, and must be
so to every one who for the first time in his life is
called to meet such crisis.
Without further preface, them seat myself to
comply with this law of custom, and address my
thoughts to you as furnishing, if not Il very in
structve, certainly very natural, introduction, to
other and successive communications which have
promised for your paper
On the morning of the 18th of January, 1889, a
few minutes before ~ o'clock, NJ, went on board
the MONTREAL Capt. Seth B. Gri6ing-one of the
regular line of packet ships between New York
and London. She had already hauled off from
the dock, and was to be conveyed down the bay
and over the bar, by the steamer Hercules. The
morning was exceedingly fine, and warm for the
season. little snow was sprlnkled upon the ad-
jacent islands and the more distant hills and high
lands, which was fast disappearing under the in
huence of bright winters sun. The wind was
from the southwest, and, though light, promised,
by the time we should dismiss the steamer, to fill
our canvass, and give gentle impulse, at least
towards our destined port. For short time, as
usual, such occasions all was hurry and hustle;
every one was occupied with his own personal
concerns, or absorbed in his own reflections. AS
to myself, | had enough to engage my attention.
A few friends accompanied me to the ship, express
ed their kind wishes for my safety upon the nigh
ty deep, for return, with invigorated health, to
my native land and then babe me an atfectionate
farewell. But moment passed, and we were in
motion. The Hercules, with strength indicated
by the name, seemed to take us up as a very little
thing, and TO march forward, with a majestic step,
towards the Atlantic.
To me, it could be none other than a moment
of intense interest. The scene that spread around
me, was associated with the recollections of other
days; the one that lay before me, was llnew and
unexplored and dimness and obscurity hung over
it, as it stretched forward in the distance. In fee
bic health, and with spirits far from buoyant, was
now bidding farewell perhaps forver, to my native
shores and skies. | might be gazing upon these
familiar objectsthe receding city, the shortening
spires, the calm and peaceful bay, with its beaut
full islands, for the last time. There was not a
person on board with whom had the slightest ac-
quaintance. The place and circumstances too,
forced upon me recoIections which | might not
have desired, at this moment, to indulge. About
three years since, darling son, youth of love-
ly spirit-himself a stranger and alone, on board
the vessel, sailed from this port, and never return
ed. His bones sleep far from kindred and friends
while his spirit, | trust, lives in heaven. The
thoughts of another land beyond the confines of
this EARTH came with great vividness before my
mind as looked upon the land had already be-
gun to leave. endeavored to commit myself to
God, and to derive consolation from the fact, that
God reigneth." If it be his wl | shall return
to my native land and view these lovely shores
again if not, let me meet that will, without even
the silent breathing of a murmur | thought of
those beautiful lines OF Mrs. Williams, which
can hardly be read without interest
When gladness wings my favor'd hour,
Thy love my thoughts shall fill ;
Resigned when storms of sorrow our,
My soul shall meet thy will.
My lifted eye without tear,
The gathering storm shall see g.;
My seadfast heart shall know no fear,
That heart shall rest thee
The steamer left us, twenty minutes before A
o'clock and returned to the city, and we spread
our sails, and laid our course direct for London
As night closed around US, and the last nook of
and disappeared, and even the fleet of white sails
which, like flock ofhome-ward bound doves,
were lowering around the entrance of the bay
could be seen no more, it would have been diff