shot past us, and we inquired how far we were from Sandy-Hook? The answer was seventy miles, but we understood seven, and we pressed on, and in a few moments were in the midst of the breakers; the vessel struck upon the bar, but passed over, into a place we afterwards learned was called Cranberry Inlet. The fog now dispersed, and we discovered we were nearly on shore; our anchors, however, saved us; but we were greatly alarmed, and never expected to get off again. The sloop, with which we had spoken, entered this inlet before us, and was light. The captain proposed to engage this sloop to receive on board as much of our cargo, as she could contain; thus, by lightening his vessel, to give himself the only probable chance of getting off. This was effectuaed, and night coming on, the captain, with many apologies, requested me to lodge on board the sloop, inasmuch as there were many valuable articles, which he was afraid to trust, without a confidential person. To this I readily consented, and taking my Bible, and my purse, I went on board the sloop. The plan of the captain was, supposing the morning should present no prospect of getting off, to deposit the remainder of his cargo upon the beach; but, if they should get off, we were immediately to follow; the goods were to be replaced; and the sloop dismissed. I went not to bed, and when the morning dawned, just at high water, the wind blowing from the shore, they got off, making a signal for us to follow; and with all possible dispatch we prepared to obey, but the wind instantly shifting, drove us back, and they proceeded on to New-York, leaving us in the bay.
It proved upon examination, we had no provisions on board; we were, therefore, necessitated to lock up the vessel, and go on shore, in search of sustenance. It was the after part of the day before we could effectuate our purpose, when I went with the boatmen to a tavern, and leaving them there, pursued a solitary walk through the woods, which seemed to surround this place. My mind was greatly agitated; I was now in the new world; and in just such a part of this new world, as had appeared so desirable in prospect. Here I was as much alone, as I could wish, and my heart exclaimed: O, that I had, in this wilderness, the lodging place of a poor way-faring man; some cave, some grot, some place where I might finish my days in calm repose. As thus I passed along, thus contemplating, thus supplicating; I unexpectedly reached a small log-house, and saw a girl cleaning a fresh fish; I requested she would sell it to me. "No, sir, you will find a very great plenty at the next house; we want this." The next house, what this? pointing to one in the woods. "O no, sir, that is a meeting-house." A meeting-
