sails, but none better worth record than the words which hold the
man's deep and tender soul.

"And now, my sweet soul, I must once again take my last farewell
of thee in old England. It goeth very near to my heart to leave
thee, but I know to whom I have committed thee, even to Him, who
loves thee much better than any husband can; who hath taken
account of the hairs of thy head, and puts all thy tears in his
bottle; who can, and (if it be for his glory) will, bring us
together again with peace and comfort. Oh, how it refresheth my
heart to think, that I shall yet again see thy sweet face in the
land of the living; that lovely countenance that I have so much
delighted in, and beheld with so great content! I have hitherto
been so taken up with business, as I could seldom look back to my
former happiness; but now when I shall be at some leisure, I shall
not avoid the remembrance of thee, nor the grief for thy absence.
Thou hast thy share with me, but I hope the course we have agreed
upon will be some ease to us both. Mondays and Fridays at five
o'clock at night we shall meet in spirit till we meet in person.
Yet if all these hopes should fail, blessed be our God, that we
are assured we shall meet one day, if not as husband and wife, yet
in a better condition. Let that stay and comfort thine heart.
Neither can the sea drown thy husband, nor enemies destroy, nor
any adversity deprive thee of thy husband or children. Therefore I
will only take thee now and my sweet children in mine arms, and
kiss and embrace you all, and so leave you with God. Farewell,
farewell. I bless you all in the name of the Lord Jesus."

"Farewell, dear England!" burst from the little group on that 8th
of April, 1630, when at last, a favorable wind bore them out to