The Newtown bee., 1901-03-08

Liz i1Aho o"OOplIS OfCI U1C waves Ill
his car to curb their boisterous fury.
The sea is never still. The ancients
understood this as they represented
the whirlpools of Scylla and Charybdi
vying with each other to draw the I'M
lucky mariner down into their seeth-
ing worthless, and the Sirens singing a
song of such wonderful sweetness that
Ulysses and his companions had to
stop their ears, that they might not be
enticed upon the treacherous rocks
The sea IS meyer still. Sometimes, as
the wind whistles through the rigging,
you can imagine you hear the sobbing
OF mother bewailing the loss of her
Child, or again the Cry of an infant as
in pain, or. even yet the breaking
down OF strong man in grief, or, at
last. the hoarse dry laugh Of a chorus
of devils.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll!
zen Ta thousand a; fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Nan Nan marks the earth with ruin,-his control
Stops with the shore"
The sea is never still. 1t often
seems to be still. but it is not; and how
much, after all, in this respect is it
You see one who seems to wear his
heart upon his sleeve, whose life his
tory, from short acquaintance, you
think you know; but if you could really
know the man, you would lind out that
equally well fit hundred other lives
Each mans life is peculiar. Every
heart knows is own bitterness and sOr-
row; and often when the countenance
is smooth and unrutfied, it is only the re-
pose that comes from the suppression
of strong emotions within the breast.
'You hear that boy laughing? You think he's
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has
The children laugh loud as they troop to his
And the poor man that knows him laughs
God stilleth the noise of the seas, the
noise of their waves and the tumult of
the people. Christ, asleep on a pillow
in the stern of the boat on stormy
Gennesaret, arose and, with a word,
made the sea as level as a palace floor.
Many time man, amid the storms of
the deep, has been made to feel that
God was his only source of help. You
remember the little girl who quieted
the fears of her father, a rough, eather
beaten captain; by saying to him when
his ship was in the jays Of an awful
gale: Papa, is not God upon the
ocean just the same as on the land?''
Men are often made to realize in way
that leads to no mistaking that God is
on the ocean for their deliverance and
saving. l do not see how sea-faring
man can be d disbeliever, or how sal
lOrS, as they are prOverbially known to
be, can be profane. Though men have
object lessons of Gods sovereignty and
power around them on every side, yet
ness of His majesty so plainly as upon
the sea. 1t must be that sailors are
given to profanity not because they do
not have every chance to
LEARN REVERENCE FOR GODS NAME,
but because their lives Of isolation lead
shore, to give full vent to their pas
SlOnS which have SO long been held in
check.
Early in the morning of February ID,
the steamship Comanche of the Clyde
line, on which my father was a pas
senger, took fire at sea. A quick,
heavy rap at the doors brought all out
Of deep sleep to see sparks flying by
their windows and the ocean about
them lit up with bright glow. Hastily
gathering few pieces Of clothing, or
with none at all except the apparel Of
the night, Ithey rushed to the.smoking-
1oolA1 III "d1N. IucIc UIlcy uuuClcO,
shivering in the cold, some praying,
some crying, some consoling, all in
fearful suspense, not knowing at what
moment the call might come to leave
the ship and take to the boats. Even
If the boats could have been saved
from being dashed to pieces against
the sides of the larger ship, there was
little chance that they could have
lived in such an angry sea. Within
five minutes after the smell of smoke
had been noticed the sailors were at
work playing the four lines of the ships
hose upon the flames that roared up
the engine room hatchway. The hose
nOzzles became choked with the freez-
ing, water lit was SO bitter cold),
and soon were cut away. The sailors
worked barefoot upon the decks, which
were every moment being covered over
with ice. The sea was running so
high and the ship rolling so heavily
that the waves were falling upon the
upper deck. One of the officers stood
in command of the men, revolver in
hand, keeping them with intensest en-
ergy to their task. Though the cap
tain, L. W. Pennington, was not
among the passengers to assure them
of safety, yet they knew that he was
doing all that human hand and skill
could do to bring safety out of most
terrible peril. Indeed the captain
showed himself most remarkable
man, hero Of the noblest type, In