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CHAPTER IV.

CROSSING THE OCEAN.

New Sensations-Singular Coincidence-Ocean Hymns.

FOR One who has never been out of sight of land, it is no slight undertaking to come to a fixed determination to cross the Atlantic. Speaking for myself, I am free to acknowledge that, when, in the year 1867, I began to think seriously of it-propelled by no imperative order or business, but moved mainly by a desire for rest and to see something of the Old World-it required all the resolution at my command to make up my mind actually to engage my passage and prepare for the voyage. In fact, even after I had reached this determination, and had selected my state-room on the good steamship Fulton, Captain Charles H. Townsend, to sail from New York to Havre on the 11th of May, it was not until we were fairly set out upon the great deep-no land in sight-that I came gradually to realize the actual truth that surely, beyond doubt, I was leaving my own country to set foot on another and far distant continent. . . . I was now keenly sensible to the truth of the remarks of Madame de Staël, that "It becomes a much more serious matter to quit one's country when in going away it is necessary to cross the sea. Everything,' she adds, "is solemn in a voyage of which the ocean marks the first steps: it seems that an abyss opens behind you, and that the return may be forever impossible. Moreover, the sight of the sea always makes a profound impression; it is the image of the Infinite which attracts the soul incessantly, and in which, without cessation, the soul appears to lose itself."

Out to sea! Only they who have bidden adieu to home and dear friends, and thus, as it were in a dream, found

themselves on the bosom of the great deep, with no land nor a living thing outside their vessel in sight, save a flock of gulls—our constant companions much of the way over and back-can realize the feeling which I now experienced. It was a new sensation, one of the remarkable characteristics of which is a feeling, I may say, of utter helplessness as regards all human support. I am happy, however, to observe that this experience was to me a source of joy on account of the realization-more vivid, if possible, than ever before-of the Omnipotent Presence. . . .

On both Sabbaths going over-we had a long passagethere were religious services in the saloon, and, if I may judge from the interest and solemnity apparent on every countenance, there was on the part of all present—and there were few or no absent passengers on that occasion—a deep and increased feeling of dependence on the Almighty arm, a sincere and hearty thankfulness for His merciful care of us, which can never be effaced from our memories. It is, indeed, a fact, not a little singular, perhaps, that this feeling found utterance in two hymns composed by two of the passengers-Henry F. King and his father-without either knowing the intention of the other, which hymns were sung at those meetings, all who could sing joining in them, having supplied themselves with copies thereof. The first (the son's composition), to the tune of "America," was sung as follows:

Our Father, hear our prayer,
As we are gathered here,
To worship Thee.

Keep us, a little band,

Well in Thy guiding hand,

And bring us safe to land
Beyond the sea.

We give our thanks to Thee,

Gratefully, willingly,

For all Thy care

Since we have left our home,
O'er foreign lands to roam;
And may we ever come
To Thee in prayer.

O Thou who rul'st the wave,
And hast the power to save,

Thy praise we sing.
Praised be Thy holy name,

Throughout the world the same,
Above all earthly fame,

Great God, our King.

The other, to the tune of "Old Hundred," as follows:

Great God, we come with grateful hearts

To offer up our thanks to Thee

For all Thy mercies, all Thy care

Of us, Thy children on the sea.

Oh, bear us safely to the shore,
With one united voice we pray;
To Thee we look-Thee we adore-
To Thee our heartfelt homage pay.

Watch o'er us evermore, and guide

Our footsteps wheresoe'er we be;
In storm or sunshine, oh, abide

With us, Thy children on the sea.

Then shall we feel no dread alarm;

Our souls will rest in peace on Thee;
Our trust sincere, safe from all harm,
Behold Thy children on the sea.

Here is another ocean hymn and some impromptu stanzas, composed by the present writer on board the Cunard steamship Scotia, Captain Leitch, on her outward trip, May 12, 1875, himself and wife being passengers. Our sailing day was Wednesday, and the hymn was sung to the tune of "God Save the Queen," as a part of the religious services on Sunday. It was also included in the religious services, one Sunday, on the Cunarder Bothnia, when we were

returning home in the following May-arriving on the 16th

of that month.

Father of Light and Love,

High on Thy throne above,
Give us thine ear.

All weak and powerless, we,

Thy children on the sea,

Would turn our thoughts to Thee,

And nothing fear.

O God, in Thee we trust;

On Jesus' bosom must

Our safety be;

Then would we ever rest

Our heads upon His breast

The haven e'er the best,

On land or sea.

Oh, take us safe to shore,
Thy guidance we implore
From day to day;

To Thee our thanks we bring,
Give us all hearts to sing

The praises of our King,
His will obey.

"ALL'S WELL."

List to the sound of bells,

As on the air it swells

And in the darkness tells

The hour of night;

Then hear the watchman's cry

On lookout to espy

All danger far and nigh

That all is right.

The cheering words, “All's well,"

All nervous fears dispel

And to our senses tell

That safety reigns.
Then sink we into rest,
Lulled by the foamy crest
Upon the ocean's breast,
In solemn strains.

Now, when life's end is near,
And all seems dark and drear,
We breathless list to hear
The last hour bell;
Oh, may the joyful word
In silver tones be heard—
"ALL'S WELL."

CHAPTER V.

SAVED BY FRIED CHICKEN-HOW COLONEL TARLETON FAILED TO CAPTURE THOMAS JEFFERSON.

IN 1781 Lord Cornwallis sought to capture the Governor (Thomas Jefferson) and the legislature of Virginia, sitting at Richmond, and afterwards at Charlottesville, to which town they hastily adjourned to avoid arrest. Failing at Richmond, Colonel Tarleton, in command of the expedi tion, with a force of cavalry and infantry, pursued, but succeeded, as history states, in capturing only "some members of the assembly," evidently not more than two or three.

There is a tradition that Tarleton's failure arose from his fondness for fried chicken. The scouting party stopped at Dr. Joseph Walker's plantation, some twenty miles from Charlottesville, for breakfast, when a messenger was sent in hot haste to warn the Virginians of their advance. Rations were distributed to the men, and the family cook made haste to get up a real Virginia meal for the colonel and his staff. Twice she prepared a delicious dish of fried chicken, and both times, when her back was turned, some of the hungry soldiers dashed into the kitchen and carried it off.

Tarleton was angry at the delay, but was told that what there was of the meal could be served at once if he desired, but that if he wished to have chicken he must set a cor

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