‘Had I have come out home when I left the vessel, all4 perhaps would have been well. But no, it was not to be until the cup of my bitterness was full; and none but God and myself can tell what I have suffered in body and in mind for my rashness. A great number of the Ohio's, Macedonian's, and Grampus's ship's company being ashore, I had a great many old shipmates among them. Suffice to say, I was led on to destruction. Coming to my senses, I thought of you, of Helen, of Mary, Mother,5 and the Home (the only one I ever knew) [where] I had spent so many happy hours. The amount of suffering and expense I had caused you all, the breaking of my pledge, the promises I had made to reform—all rushed to my mind like the advancing roar of some mighty whirlwind. To drown those dreadful thoughts, I procured two ounces of laudanum, with a full determination to put a stop to my wretched existence.’The attempted suicide was baffled, and once more, and to the end, the hapless man found a refuge in the home ever open to him in Cambridgeport. He lacked the nerve to tell his brother what had happened, so wrote a frank account, which he left on his table; his mind balancing between futile plans of engaging anew as a sailor, and a half-formed resolve still to make away with his hated life. Thus the affecting paper closed:
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