Wednesday, 2.—­We had a fresh trade-wind to-day, which made me feel the difference between H.M.S.  Eden, and this pile-driving galliot:  my sleeping-place too, happened to be at the furthest end of the vessel, which might be compared to one of the horns of a crescent, and while I was dancing in the air, others in the centre of the concavity, were scarcely out of the horizontal line.  Fortunately, a very short repose is sufficient for me, as my bed was not the softest in the world, for as I had not brought one with me, I was obliged to lie upon an old sail, with a bag of clothes for a pillow:  however, I have no desire to consider comforts, when I am travelling, lest feather-bed indulgences, and luxurious appointments, should divert my attention from more useful objects.  The latitude at noon to-day, was 1 deg. 36’.  N, and longitude, 16 deg. 28’.  W. by the Eden’s calculation (the correctness of which I might venture to swear by, for no ship ever kept a better), being 1 deg. 27’.  E. of the galliot’s reckoning.

Thursday, 3.—­Still a fresh S.E. trade-wind, which enabled us to go a point free, (S.W. by S.) Noon, lat. 0 deg. 14’.  S. lon. 17 deg. 29’.  W. Having crossed the equinoctial line this forenoon, I have passed it for the third time, in as many distinct voyages, within a fortnight, namely,

1st.  From Prince’s Island, to Ascension.

2nd.  From Ascension towards Sierra Leone.

3rd.  From on board the Eden, on her way to Sierra Leone, more than 2 deg. north of the line, to Rio de Janeiro.

There being no one on board the galliot, who had ever crossed the equinoctial line before, except the chief mate, Mr. Fearon, and myself, the usual ceremony of shaving, &c. was dispensed with, but to prevent the circumstance passing entirely uncommemorated, Mr. Fearon presented us with some champagne, as an oblation to Neptune and his spouse, Amphitrite.  About sunset, seven flying-fish fell on board, which we had for supper, and found them very delicious.

Friday, 4.—­Still a moderate S.E. trade, lat. 1 deg. 56’.  S. lon. 18 deg. 16’.  W. Our mode of living is as follows:—­Between six and seven in the morning, a cup of coffee is brought to us; at half-past seven, the whole crew assemble in the cabin to prayers; immediately after which, we all go to breakfast, ours in the cabin, consisting of boiled barley, of which the captain and his mates partake freely, mixing with each portion, a large table spoonful of butter; this is followed by tea, cold meat, and biscuit, and concluded with well buttered biscuits and cheese.  At eleven, coffee again; and so soon after noon as the ship’s place is ascertained by the reckoning, a glass of wine is presented to each person,[50] followed by dinner.  At half-past three, tea; and at six, tea again, but combined with supper.  At half-past seven, the crew again assemble to prayers; after which, all not employed on watch, retire to rest, with the exception of Mr. Fearon and myself, who were neither such gourmands, nor such sleepers as our Dutch friends.—­They, however, were very moderate in their use of ardent spirits, or fermented liquors; they were also very moderate smokers, and seldom introduced smoking in the cabin.