blending away in the blue waters, and a starry summer sky formed a scene of which it is hardly possible to give an adequate description.
But as we sat for hours together on the deck, watching this still nightly scene, other thoughts than those suggested by the scene oft arose in our minds. For we have left our home and our country, unknown to our friends, unknown to those who are nearest and dearest to us, staking our future, staking all, on success in an undertaking which past experience has proved to be more than difficult. The least hint about our plans would have effectually stopped our departure, our guardians would never have consented to our crossing the seas, our wisest friends would have considered it madness to venture on an impossible undertaking. Against such feelings and against the voice of experience and reason, we have set out in this difficult undertaking,—stealthily leaving our homes,—recklessly staking everything on an almost impossible success. Shall we achieve that success? Or shall we come back to our country, impoverished, socially cut off from our countrymen, and disappointed in our hopes, to face the reproaches of advisers and the regrets of our friends? These thoughts oft arose in our minds in the solemn stillness of the night,—and the prospect before us seemed to be gloomier than the gloomy sky and the gloomy sea around us, without a ray of hope to enlighten the dark prospect.
Early in the morning of the 7th instant, we descried from the deck of our steamer the sandy shores of the Madras.Coromandel
