knowledge that I was at that time liable to be seized and again reduced
to whips and chains, I had supposed that I would leave the country
without any regret; but in this I was mistaken, for when I saw the last
thread of communication cut off between me and the land, and the dim
shores dying away in the distance, I almost regretted that I was not on
shore.

An anticipated trip to a foreign country appears pleasant when talking
about it, especially when surrounded by friends whom we love; but when
we have left them all behind, it does not seem so pleasant. Whatever may
be the fault of the government under which we live, and no matter how
oppressive her laws may appear, yet we leave our native land (if such
it be) with feelings akin to sorrow. With the steamer's powerful engine
at work, and with a fair wind, we were speedily on the bosom of the
Atlantic, which was as calm and as smooth as our own Hudson in its
calmest aspect. We had on board above one hundred passengers, forty of
whom were the "Viennese children"--a troop of dancers. The passengers
represented several different nations, English, French, Spaniards,
Africans, and Americans. One man who had the longest pair of mustaches
that mortal man was ever doomed to wear, especially attracted my
attention. He appeared to belong to no country in particular, but was
yet the busiest man on board. After viewing for some time the many
strange faces around me, I descended to the cabin to look after my
luggage, which had been put hurriedly on board. I hope that all who take
a trip of so great a distance may be as fortunate as I was, in being
supplied with books to read on the voyage. My friends had furnished me
with literature, from "Macaulay's History of England" to "Jane Eyre," so
that I did not want for books to occupy my time.

A pleasant passage of about thirty hours, brought us to Halifax, at six