of Him who devised and framed this ever-varying scene! How loving, to spread them before the eyes of man! How mighty, to hold the seas in the hollow of his hand!
Within a week of leaving America, favouring breezes had borne us more than a thousand miles up on our way. Steering to the south and east, we daily entered a warmer climate, and left farther and farther behind us the winter that was stealing upon our friends at home. As I suffered very little from sea-sickness, I was able to enjoy the fresh breeze that filled our sails and pressed our ship through the white-capped waves that tossed their heads before, behind, and on every side of us, seeming to long to enter, and now and then succeeding in pitching their crests headlong over our bulwarks. Of our company of fourteen, some sat upon the bulwarks wrapped in their cloaks and basking in the sunshine, too sick to enjoy the romance of ocean life; others walked the deck for exercise; while a few, unequal to any effort, sought deliverance from the horrible nausea of sea-sickness by lying quietly on their backs in their berths.
Our first Sabbath at sea was by no means a quiet one. The weather was squally and the wind high. Our ship rolled from side to side
