These reflections oppressed me from 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 vapours into my head with the mere apprehensions; and, in these hurries of my soul, I knew 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 in 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 every thing 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 might 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 under a 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 ate, 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.