Survey our empire and behold our home.'
"Our only home indeed for a brief period of time. But who can fail to remember the pleasant acquaintances made, even if we go around the world? For 'they that go down to the sea in ships; that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.' Even if we look upon the lofty Himalayas, the Alps, the Apennines, and the Juras, and linger about gigantic Mont Blanc and her white-robed sisters, or the beautiful Jungfrau, or sail along the classic shores of the blue Mediterranean,—wherever we go, and whatever we see, the scenes on this good ship will be photographed, as it were, on our memories as long as we live—the romps on the deck, perchance with a charming miss; or the tramp, tramp with military regularity with those of mature age; the hours of looking upon the moonlit sea, listening to the song and music of our missionary friends. God bless them and their cause!
"The temporary annoyance of sea-sickness will be forgotten. And now, fellow-passengers and friends, let us resolve that, like the passion-flower of the wilderness, which always bears within its bosom the true cross, we will bear within our bosom the true cross of 'enmity towards none, charity and goodwill for all,' and thus we shall be an honor to ourselves, the dear ones at home, the country we came from, and our God.
"Captain Ward, by directions of the passengers on this ship, permit me to present to you an engrossed resolution, signed by all of us, and beautifully illustrated by Señor Romero, and expressing the hope—which has been so often said before on like occasions—that your voyage through life may be as safe and pleasant as you have made ours. I bid you farewell."
The captain made a suitable reply, and the company all stood up and drank his health.
One more night on the ship; and the next morning we sighted land and passed along near it for forty miles. It was a rough country, evidently of volcanic formation, and not so thickly populated as I expected to see, considering that there are thirty-eight million people in Japan. At last we cast anchor in the splendid harbor of Yokohama, one of the most commodious and beautiful in the world, where a tug took us off the ship. We were detained an hour or two at the custom-house, and then each took a jinrickisha, a low, two-wheeled chaise with a man between the shafts, who trotted up to the "Grand," the most perfect of hotels. We went directly to our rooms, which had been previously engaged.