These reflections oppressed me for the second or third day of my distemper; and in the violence, as well of the fever as of the dreadful reproaches of my conscience, extorted some words from me, like praying to God, though I cannot say they were either a prayer attended with desires or with hopes; it was rather the voice of mere fright and distress. My thoughts were confused, the convictions great upon my mind, and the horror of dying in such a miserable condition, raised vapors into my head with the mere apprehensions; and in these hurries of my soul, I know not what my tongue might express; but it was rather exclamation, such as, “Lord! what a miserable creature am I! If I should be sick, I shall certainly die for want of help; and what will become of me?” Then the tears burst out of my eyes, and I could say no more for a good while.

In this interval, the good advice of my father came to my mind, and presently his prediction, which I mentioned at the beginning of this story, viz., that if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless me, and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery. “Now,” said I aloud, “my dear father’s words are come to pass; God’s justice has overtaken me, and I have none to help or hear me. I rejected the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I would neither see it myself nor learn to know the blessing of it from my parents. I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it. I refused their help and assistance, who would have lifted me into the world, and would have made everything easy to me; and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great for even Nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no comfort, no advice.” Then I cried out, “Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress.”

This was the first prayer, if I may call it so, that I had made for many years. But I return to my journal.

June 28. — Having been somewhat refreshed with the sleep I had had, and the fit being entirely off, I got up; and though the fright and terror of my —dream was very great, yet I considered that the fit of the ague would return again the next day, and now was my time to get something to refresh and support myself when I should be ill. And the first thing I did I filled a large square case–bottle with water, and set it upon my table in reach of my bed; and to take off the chill or aguish disposition of the water, I put about a quarter of a pint of rum into it, and mixed them together. Then I got me a piece of the goat’s flesh, and broiled it on the coals, but could eat very little. I walked about, but was very weak, and withal very sad and heavy–hearted in the sense of my miserable condition, dreading the return of my distemper the next day. At night I made my supper of three of the turtle’s eggs, which I roasted in the ashes, and eat, as we call it, in the shell; and this was the first bit of meat I had ever asked God’s blessing to, even as I could remember, in my whole life.