The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depth with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown.’”
In the following words, Dr. Walker describes his
FIRST SABBATH AT SEA.
“It is Sunday morning. The day is calm, and the sun is shining brightly. Divine services were held in the chapel at 10:30 a. m., conducted by the captain, who read the Episcopal service. A Sabbath at sea is a sad day to those who love the house of God. No church bell is heard calling the people to their respective places of worship. No soul-inspiring anthems are sung. No heartfelt prayers are heard ascending like sweet incense from the altar of praise. We miss the pulpit ministration and the Christian greeting that come from the gentle throbbing of loving and affectionate hearts. We miss the Sunday school, where the little folks are singing their many beautiful songs, expressive of our dear Saviour’s life and love. In place of all this, we observe men drinking and carousing and engaged in all kinds of frivolity; we see many women and girls reading novels, but not one perusing the Bible. Give me no more Sabbaths in mid-ocean.”
The first Sunday in London, Dr. Walker visited Spurgeon’s church. Following is his description of