The land is so full of things that men
have made, and they are so busy all around you, that it does not seem
half so much as if it were God's own world as the ocean, where every
object, except the little vessel you are in, is of his creation. As I
looked up and saw all the universe he had made, and round on the broad
waters, and thought how soon, with one wave, they could sweep us out of
existence, I felt the need of prayer more than ever before, and I cannot
now imagine how those men could sleep, without first asking God to take
care of them. I am afraid, though, that some of the sailors don't even
believe that there is such a being, and they say his awful name without
any fear, and ask him to curse each other every few moments, as if they
had never heard what a dreadful thing it is to be under the displeasure
of the Almighty.
When I got up from my knees, I heard a loud laugh from "Blunt Harry,"
who called out to Clarendon,--"Why don't you rock that baby to sleep,
now he has said his prayers, and then say your own and turn in?"
Clarendon would have made some angry reply, but he has found out that
there is no use in getting in a passion, for the men consider him on a
perfect level with themselves, and will say what they choose to him.
"Let the boy alone," interposed Moody Dick. "I only wish I could say my
prayers this night with the same childlike confidence."
"No, don't mind them, my fine fellow," said Old Jack, the same man who
had spoken so warmly of the Seamen's Friend Society, and he gave me a
rough tap on the shoulder, which even my coarse shirt did not prevent
from stinging.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32