we perish not!” These creatures always want sacrifices made to save their own precious skins; and they found in the poor penitent Hebrew a willing sacrifice.  He agreed that they should cast him into the sea!  It is not recorded what methods of torture were used in order to extract his consent; but it is pretty safe to assume that the Tarshish crew made it so hot for the poor man that he was glad to say to them, “Take me up and cast me forth into the sea!” Thus it comes to pass that the race of seamen cling to a tradition which originated in craven ignorance.

Some years ago a large party was invited by me to a trial trip of a new steamer.  Amongst the guests were a number of ministers, some of whom were my personal friends, and some the friends of others who had been invited.  A gentleman who had been in my service for many years held strongly to the old tradition against clerics, and vowed that no good would ever come of such a reckless breach of nautical etiquette.  He felt assured that much ill would come of it.  His countenance the whole day betokened internal conflict!  He refused to be ridiculed into consolation, and I think has felt chagrined ever since that nothing has happened to justify his prophecy.  It must not be supposed, however, that men holding these views carried their resentment ashore.  Many of them were on easy terms of friendship with sky-pilots, and listened to their devotional efforts and teaching with fervent submission.  A story, which is known and reverently believed by the typical sailor, has done service many times.  It is this:  A parson had embarked aboard a sailing vessel as a passenger.  They were crossing the Bay of Biscay when a tempest began to rage and the darkness became full of trouble.  The sea lashed with remorseless effect on the hull of the vessel, until her timbers cracked and made strange noises.  It was discovered that the vessel was leaking badly, and all hands were ordered to the pumps.  The hurricane continued to roar, and the parson became alarmed at the tumult.  He at last appealed to the captain to know whether the danger was of a serious character.  The captain informed him the danger was great; but, if he desired to be assured of his safety or otherwise, he was to go towards the men that were pumping and listen whether they were swearing.  If they were, there was no immediate danger.  He came back and said to the captain, “Glory be to God, they are swearing!” A short time was allowed to elapse, and another visit was paid.  He came back and informed the commander that they were still swearing, but not quite so hard; “Indeed,” said he, “I thought I heard some of them praying.”  “Ah,” said the captain, “I fear if hard swearing does not continue, and they begin to pray, there will be no hope!” Whereupon the man of Holy Orders dropped on his knees and offered up an eloquent supplication for Divine aid:  “O God, in Thy boundless compassion do Thou cause these sailors to cease praying, and make them to swear with a vigour and force that will appease the anger of the waves, and bring Thy servants out of danger into safety!” The captain called out “Amen,” and added a supplementary petition for their deliverance, which is said to have been granted.