Adol. When he had said this, he orders to cut the Shrouds and the Mast down by the Board, and to throw them, Sails and all, into the Sea.

Ant. Why was this done?

Adol. Because, the Sail either being gone or torn, it would only be a Burden, but not of Use; all our Hope was in the Helm.

Ant. What did the Passengers do in the mean Time?

Adol. There you might have seen a wretched Face of Things; the Mariners, they were singing their Salve Regina, imploring the Virgin Mother, calling her the Star of the Sea, the Queen of Heaven, the Lady of the World, the Haven of Health, and many other flattering Titles, which the sacred Scriptures never attributed to her.

Ant. What has she to do with the Sea, who, as I believe, never went a Voyage in her Life?

Adol. In ancient Times, Venus took Care of Mariners, because she was believ’d to be born of the Sea and because she left off to take Care of them, the Virgin Mother was put in her Place, that was a Mother, but not a Virgin.

Ant. You joke.

Adol. Some were lying along upon the Boards, worshipping the Sea, pouring all they had into it, and flattering it, as if it had been some incensed Prince.

Ant. What did they say?

Adol. O most merciful Sea!  O most generous Sea!  O most rich Sea!  O most beautiful Sea, be pacified, save us; and a Deal of such Stuff they sung to the deaf Ocean.

Ant. Ridiculous Superstition!  What did the rest do?

Adol. Some did nothing but spew, and some made Vows.  There was an Englishman there, that promis’d golden Mountains to our Lady of Walsingham, so he did but get ashore alive.  Others promis’d a great many Things to the Wood of the Cross, which was in such a Place; others again, to that which was in such a Place; and the same was done by the Virgin Mary, which reigns in a great many Places, and they think the Vow is of no Effect, unless the Place be mentioned.

Ant. Ridiculous!  As if the Saints did not dwell in Heaven.

Adol. Some made Promises to become Carthusians.  There was one who promised he would go a Pilgrimage to St. James at Compostella, bare Foot and bare Head, cloth’d in a Coat of Mail, and begging his Bread all the Way.

Ant. Did no Body make any Mention of St. Christopher?

Adol. Yes, I heard one, and I could not forbear laughing, who bawling out aloud, lest St. Christopher should not hear him, promised him, who is at the Top of a Church at Paris, rather a Mountain than a Statue, a wax Taper as big as he was himself:  When he had bawl’d out this over and over as loud as he could, an Acquaintance of his jogg’d him on the Elbow, and caution’d him:  Have a Care what you promise, for if you should sell all you have in the World, you will not be able to pay for it.  He answer’d him softly, lest St. Christopher should hear him, you Fool, says he, do you think I mean as I speak, if I once got safe to Shore, I would not give him so much as a tallow Candle.