CHAPTER XIX.
Homeward Bound.
Saturday, October 31, at three o’clock in the afternoon, a mixed assembly met on the pier in Liverpool and gazed, with not a little apprehension, at the roily waters of the harbor and the ever-increasing clouds of mist.
The St. Paul, while not one of the largest or most pretentious of the American steamers, is by no means the least. Nineteen years ago she passed us in mid-ocean, although she had left New York three days later than we. Her parlors, refectory, and even the berths, are exceedingly neat and comfortable. The dining-room is particularly attractive. One thing especially noticeable on this ship is the absence of all disagreeable, smoky or gaseous odors, which on some steamers taint even the best-prepared viands, and often cause a feeling of nausea the moment one enters the gangway.
May her patron, the good St. Paul, who on earth had taken so many perilous journeys on land and sea, ever watch over his graceful white sea-bird and lead her safely into the wished-for harbor.
Promptly at five o’clock the gong, sounding through the gangway, gave notice of departure. For an hour or two we stood on deck and gazed out upon the rapidly retreating lights of Liverpool, casting their rays so awkwardly through the heavy fog which decked both land and sea.
When the last light fades out on the shore and despondency overwhelms poor human nature, exposed to the unseen dangers of the deep, then confidence is restored by the thought that we are ever in the presence of Him whose watchful eye never closes, and without Whose knowledge not even a sparrow falls to the ground.
CONFIDENCE.
God is on the sea,
As well as on the land,