us.”  The minister then went on to speak of God as “the God of patience,” “the God of comfort,” “the God of hope,” and “the God of peace.”  It was, with some exceptions, a pleasing and uplifting address.  There were about thirty persons in attendance, and the collection was for the Sailors’ Orphans’ Home in Scotland.  The following is one verse of the closing hymn: 

  “A few more years shall roll,
    A few more seasons come,
  And we shall be with those that rest,
    Asleep within the tomb;
  Then, oh, my Lord, prepare
    My soul for that great day,
  Oh, wash me in thy precious blood
    And take my sins away.”

Before the close of the day, I read the whole of Mark’s record of the life of our Savior and turned my Bible over to Gus, the steward.  We had food served four times, as usual.  The sea was smooth and the day passed quietly.  A Catholic gentleman said something at breakfast about “saying a few prayers” to himself, and I heard a woman, in speaking about going to church, say she had beads and a prayer-book with her.  Later in the day I saw her out on the deck with a novel, and what I supposed to be the prayer-book, but she was reading the novel.

Several of the passengers had reading matter with them.  Some read novels, but my Book was far better than any of these.  It has a greater Author, a wider range of history, more righteous laws, purer morals, and more beautiful description than theirs.  It contains a longer and better love story than theirs, and reveals a much grander Hero.  The Bible both moralizes and Christianizes those who permit its holy influence to move them to loving obedience of the Lord Jesus.  It can fill its thoughtful reader with holy hope and lead him into the realization of that hope.  It is a Book adapted to all men everywhere, and the more carefully it is read the greater the interest in it and the profit from it become.  It is the volume that teaches us how to live here that we may live hereafter, and in the dying hour no one will regret having been a diligent student of its matchless pages of divine truth and wisdom.

The last Lord’s day of the voyage the ship reached Moville, Ireland, where a small vessel came out and took off the passengers for Londonderry.  The tilled land, visible from the ship, reminded me of a large garden.  Some time that night we anchored in the harbor at Greenock, near the mouth of the River Clyde.  About one o’clock the second steward came in, calling out:  “Janes!” I answered from my berth and heard him call out:  “Don Carlos Janes!” Again I answered and learned that he had some mail for me.  I told him to hand it in, not remembering that the door was locked, but that made no difference, for he handed it in anyhow, but the locking arrangement on that door needed repairing after he went away.  I arose and examined the two pieces of mail, which were from friends, giving me directions as to where I should go when the ship got up to Glasgow, twenty-two miles from the sea.  There was but one case of sea sickness reported on the whole voyage.  There was one death, but the corpse was carried into port instead of being buried at sea.