14th—What a confusion my hair has suffered! I haven’t put it in order since I left the Orient. Such negligence of toilet would be fined by the police in Japan.
I was busy with my hair all the morning.
15th—The Sunday service was held.
There’s nothing more natural on a voyage than to pray.
We have abandoned the land. The ocean has no bottom.
We die any moment “with bubbling groan, without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.”
Only prayer makes us firm.
I addressed myself to the Great Invisible whose shadow lies across my heart.
He may not be the God of Christianity. He is not the Hotoke Sama of Buddhism.
Why don’t those red-faced sailors hum heavenly-voiced hymns instead of—“swear?”