Having tried in vain all the means Jamaica afforded for the restoration of my beloved wife's health, we yielded to the advice of medical men and of brethren, and reluctantly left the island in June 1834. It grieved us to leave the scene of our labours, in which we had been so happy, and at so deeply interesting and important a period. Freedom was to be declared on the 1st of August that year. The emancipated slaves would need all the guidance of their ministers, and restraints of their churches, amidst the rejoicings and temptations of their new-born liberty. And their emancipation, it was expected, would, like a spring tide, carry forward all mission work triumphantly, and double the numbers of every congregation. The little flock at Cornwall could not benefit, in our absence, by the great opportunity like others; but we trusted that the “Great Shepherd of the Sheep” would keep it safely till our return, and enable us, while off the island, to promote his cause some other way.

One incident of our voyage home deserves to be recorded, that others may be encouraged to trust in God, in times of seemingly imminent danger. The barque Io, in which we sailed, was deeply laden with West Indian produce. Between Jamaica and the west end of Cuba we were overtaken by a suspicious-looking schooner, which, when first seen in the morning, was far astern on our starboard quarter, but came rapidly up, and then hung on abreast of us, a mile or so distant, the rest of the day. Our captain thought it looked like a pirate.