In regard to carrying out the above rules successfully, the reader will understand it perfectly, when I say that as to the first, the ship rode on the blue waves of the Bay of Bengal, I felt sea-sick, and got rid of it only on the day when I arrived in Boston. Nearly four months, this great monarch, the most disagreeable of all diseases, had an undisputed sway over me. Occasionally, in very mild weather, I could walk a little and move about on the deck. My constitution is very peculiar,—I shall never get used to the sea. It seems to me that if I were forced to spend my life on the sea, it would be under constant sea-sickness. A trifling motion makes me sea-sick. I have frequently been made sick in riding in stages. On my way from Fitchburg to Templeton, by stage, I felt so miserable, that a good lady, Mrs. J——, kindly invited me to come to and spend the night at her house.
It is customary in this country to offer the “rocking-chair” to a guest. I always refuse it with thanks, for fear of its making me sea-sick. On board the ship I could sit at the table at regular hours most of the time. Knowing that nothing but land would cure this ugly feeling, I hoped that some provision, or water would be used up, and thus compel the captain to touch at some place for fresh supplies. But he had enough of everything.
While we were in the river our table was furnished with fresh vegetables and fish, but as we launched forth into the ocean, we had almost everything salted. Never accustomed to eat meat I found it difficult to get along, as most of the edibles on board consisted of salt meat of various kinds. Two days in the week we used to have pea-soup and rice and curry. To be true and just to the Sabine, I should say she had a large supply of provisions of various kinds, which an American would regard as “real treats.” But I could not relish most of them, being a stranger to their name and nature. Mr. Dall had a large bunch of bananas, some tamarinds, etc., for me, which became very serviceable to me for a fortnight. As the Hindoos are taught to share eatable things with their friends, I gave some fine bananas to the mates, the boy, etc. After a week I offered them some again; but one partook of them, and the other refused them with thanks.
Now once, at midnight, a large, dirty hand was thrust into my state-room and pulled some bananas from the branch; I did not know who that hand belonged to. The same hand helped itself with my fruits again the next day, and I could not help smiling. When I had offered them to the brethren, they felt delicate and declined to accept them, and at midnight came to help themselves. I took the bunch out and distributed its contents among the sailors.
The captain, Hendee, was very kind to me. As I was the only passenger, and had none to speak to (as the sailors are not allowed to speak to any while on duty), I found Captain Hendee very agreeable. Mr. Dall could not have put me into the care of a better man than Mr. Hendee. He was a friend, teacher, guard, and pastor to me. Every day he would take notice of what I had done, how much I had read, what exercise I had taken, etc. Occasionally he would explain some difficult passages in the New Testament and other books. When less sea-sick, in mild weather, I used to read from the following books: Waverley Novels, the Life of Napoleon, Pope’s Poetical Works, The Tower of London, Paul and Virginia (in Bengalee), Dr. Kane’s Arctic Explorations, the Bible, and Channing, etc. Besides, Captain H. had American papers, such as Gleason’s Pictorial, the Olive Branch, and the New York Ledger. This last paper did not give a good idea of American people. Its stories I found to be fictitious love affairs, sentimental. I felt surprised to think that such stories were put into the hands of the boys and girls,—these will certainly corrupt them, and create romantic, short-lived affections in their hearts. The Hindoo parents do not read nor tell the stories of love affairs to their children, because the influence of such things is very bad upon the young. They fill their hearts with strange passions, which do not belong to them. Hence, in this country I hear so much of elopement, coquetry, strange unions between a boy of eighteen or twenty, and a woman of fifty!
Mr. Hendee undertook to teach me American etiquette, the discipline at the table, in the parlor, etc., but he is such a jolly man that whatever he taught I took for fun. He would ask me every morning, and a great many times during the day, “Philip, how do you feel?” My answers varied according to the true state of my feelings. While sick, I said so, and while cheerful, I said so. But this would not satisfy him. So he taught me to answer him as follows: “Philip!” “Sir.” “How do you feel?” “All serene.” Then he would respond, “Salubrious.” He told me, in fun, no doubt, that in Divinity Schools they make such long prayers, that the students find their limbs stiff, having had to kneel down so long. I hoped my friends would not put me in a school like those, that would cause me to go home lame after prayers.
We had a remarkably pleasant voyage. Very few storms were experienced on our way. One day, after a severe squall, Captain Hendee sat on the gangway, tired yet cheerful, and, as usual, cried, “Philip, how do you feel?” He asked me what I thought of the late squall, and hearing me speak indifferently of it, said, “Philip, you are just like a baby that knows not what is going on before him,” etc. And then he began to sing, “From all that dwell below the skies,” etc. He would not hear any one swear in the cabin, and often would say, “Mr. C., (the second mate,) don’t, don’t.”
Every soul on board was kind to me, and I trust I was not less to them. “Antoon,” a Spanish sailor, hearing that I did not eat salt meat, gave me a sharp exhortation. “You are no good Christian! Me, the captain, Mr. B., etc., are good Christians. We eat beef, ham, pork, plenty,—we fat,” putting his hand on his stomach.
After a voyage of four months, we reached Boston on the midnight of 24th of May, 1858. Early in the morning, I got up from my bed and waited for some friend, who, as Mr. Dall had told me, would come to take me into the town; but none came, not knowing, as yet, of my arrival. One by one the sailors left the ship, and I was on board with “Antoon.” The whole day passed, yet no Unitarian friend made his appearance to welcome me to the distant land. Not knowing what to eat, hungry and low, I sat on the gangway to gaze upon the harbor. I was delighted to see “Dorchester Heights,” which I took for a mountain, as I had not seen any high ground before. Looking at the buildings around the harbor, I believed they were churches, on account of the chimneys which our Calcutta houses do not have. In order to spend the time and forget hunger, I began to draw a sketch of the Navy Yard, East Boston Ferries, etc. As the demands of nature must be met, I took a piece of hard, square cracker and a little brown sugar, and made a supper of them. In the evening I left the ship and ventured to go on shore in East Boston, although “Antoon” feared I should get lost. Going a little way I came to a place where a young couple were sitting near the water. The girl went down to see whether the water tasted salt or fresh. I knew then that, “even in heaven there are fools.” Anybody who has even read of or seen the sea and its ways, knows, I am sure, that the water therein is salt.