The state of things would have been somewhat different, under a fair sale, perhaps; but a forced sale would probably sweep away everything.  It is true my creditor was my heir; for, a legacy to Lucy and a few bequests to my slaves excepted, I had fairly bequeathed all I owned to my cousin.  As for the blacks themselves, under the new policy of New York, they would soon be free; and I had no other interest in their fate than that of habit and affection.

But why speak of property, in the situation in which I was placed?  Had I owned the whole of Ulster county, my wishes, or any new will I might make, must die with me.  The ocean would soon engulf the whole.  Had I no desire to make an effort to save myself, or at least to prolong my existence, by means of a raft?—­of boat, there was none in the ship.  The English had the yawl, and the launch had been driven away.  The spare spars were swept overboard, as well as all the water-casks that had been lashed on deck.  I might have done something with the hatches, and mizen-top-mast, possibly, could I have gotten the last into the water; but the expedient was so desperate, it did not hold out any hopes to be encouraged.  Even the handspikes had gone in the launch, and two of the buoys had been left with the anchors, on the Irish coast.  Under all the circumstances, it appeared to me, that it would be more manly and resigned, to meet my fate at once, than to attempt any such feeble projects to prolong existence for a few hours.  I came to the resolution, therefore, to go down in my ship.

What was there to make life particularly dear to me?—­My home, my much-beloved Clawbonny, must go, at all events; and I will own that a feeling of bitter distrust crossed my mind, as I thought of these things, and that I began to fancy John Wallingford might have urged me to borrow his money, expressly to obtain a chance of seizing an estate that was so much prized by every Wallingford.  I suppressed this feeling, however; and in a clear voice I asked my cousin’s pardon, the same as if he had been within hearing.  Of Lucy, I had no longer any hope;—­Grace was already in heaven; and the world contained few that cared for me.  After Mr. Hardinge, Lucy always excepted I now loved Marble and Neb the most; and these two were probably both dead, or doomed, like myself.  We must all yield up our lives once; and, though my hour came rather early, it should be met as a man meets everything, even to death itself.

Some time before the sun set, I went aloft to take a last look at the ocean.  I do not think any desire to prolong my existence carried me up the mast, but there was a lingering wish to look after my mate.  The ocean beamed gloriously that eventide, and I fancied that it was faintly reflecting the gracious countenance of its divine Creator, in a smile of beneficent love.  I felt my heart soften, as I gazed around me, and I fancied heavenly music was singing the praises of God, on the face of the great deep.  Then I knelt in the top, and prayed.