of perspiration stood on his seamed and rugged brow. The decorous man of business, unaccustomed to such manifestations, drew back and surveyed his visitor with a look of perplexed curiosity. Then, as if to divert the captain's mind from a theme so painfully personal, he remarked, "But, captain, there is this to be considered, you know: if the Lass has foundered, as you suppose, may it not have happened to her whenever the sea was unusually rough?"

"That's just the danger, sir. That's just what I feared."
"Even if you yourself had been in command?"
"It is not unlikely, sir."

"Very well, captain. Now suppose you had gone in her as usual, what then?"

Then, sir, I should have gone to hell!"

At this unexpected reply, Mr. Buckminster started as if struck by a pistol-ball.

so!"

'Oh, no! Captain Antle," he protested; "not so! not

"Not a bit worse than I deserved, sir, considering what a vile, miserable sinner I used to be, without God and without hope in the world."

Mr. Buckminster, after a moment's reflection, asked, “But why not, captain, take a more-take a different view of the case? Why not congratulate yourself that this accident of yours was the means, perhaps, of saving your life?"

"Mr. Buckminster, this accident of mine was the means, under God, of saving my soul, and that's of much greater consequence. Oh, sir!" exclaimed the captain, suddenly

rising to his feet, "I find, since coming in here this morning, that I have more cause than ever to be grateful to my blessed Redeemer! Mr. Buckminster, if you have no objections, we'll have a word of prayer."

Before the merchant could interpose an objection, if he had had any, the captain was on his knees in fervent supplication for divine mercy, light, and guidance. It was probably the first time anything like a religious exercise had ever been held in that room, and it is doubtful if a copy of the Sacred Scriptures, or any of the signs and symbols of the Faith, could have been found on the premises, so little has religion to do with even the most honorably conducted business.

It so happened that in the midst of the captain's prayer, Mr. Beals entered the room, and beholding the attitude of its occupants, looked, for a moment, as if he doubted the evidence of his senses, and questioned whether his partner's reason had not followed the captain's into the land of fantasy.

When Captain Antle had concluded his brief, but extraordinary invocation, and was about to withdraw, he seized the merchant's hand and said, "Mr. Buckminster, I thank you, not only for this privilege, but for all your past kindnesses to me. I know I've been a hard man to get along with. I was a nuisance and a terror, I have no doubt, to you and to everyone else. But on my conscience, sir, I assure you, I always tried to do my duty by the house, and to serve it to the best of my ability."

you

Captain Antle," the merchant returned, "let me assure that we never had the slightest reason to doubt it."

"And now, sir," continued the captain, "I hope to serve my Saviour for the balance of my life. Mr. Buckminster, I pray that the Lord may bless and prosper you and yours, make you as good a Christian as you are a considerate, honorable, and generous employer!"

yours, and

"Thank you, Captain Antle; thank you very much! And now, please remember what I have said; namely, that you will always find me at your service—always, remember," said Mr. Buckminster, shaking the captain's hand with a degree of effusiveness seldom exhibited by him or by men of his temperament.

VI.

THAT was the concluding chapter in Captain Antle's life as a sailor. When he left the shipping-office, it was no longer as a master-mariner, but as an "apostle to the Gentiles." Almost instinctively he turned his face in the direction of the sea-that sea which, for nearly thirty long years, had been his domain, his home. That sea on which, from boyhood to youth, and from youth to middle age, he had encountered perils innumerable, hardships inconceivable; but where, in spite of all, he had risen to the highest position in his noble and hazardous calling. That sea-that measureless abyss which, to-day, but for an inscrutable Providence, might have been his unknown grave. Again he approached that sea, not as a mariner, but as a messenger of the Most High!

Think of it, reader! See him pacing the street with the light of eternal truth beaming like an aureola from his countenance. See him, like a champion entering the lists, — nay, a soldier of the Lord, going forth to meet the combined hosts of the world, the flesh, and the devil. What a subject for the painter! What a theme for the poet! Does it seem extravagant to suppose that the angels themselves crowded the battlements of Heaven to behold this man as he advanced to the unequal conflict? No; not if there is, indeed, joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.

Did I say unequal conflict? Not so, for the Almighty was on his side; but this glorious fact was apparent only to the eye of faith. Visibly, he was surrounded by the incarnations. of all evils. Blasphemy, debauchery, cruelty, greed, malice, hatred, lust, recklessness, want, woe, and despair crept, crawled, reeled, staggered, stalked, rushed, swept past him. Could he arrest the current? Could he turn the tide - he one against ten thousand?

But it is not the roar of the great Babel that he hears, it is the murmur of the great deep. The breeze which smites his cheek comes laden with the briny odor so familiar to his senses. And now comes into view the forest of tall spars and fluttering pennants. Once more the captain finds himself on the old wharf from which he had so often put

to sea.

There, apparently, are the same piles of goods, the same rows of barrels, the same bales and cases. There are the great ships loading and unloading. There are the stevedores, the wharfingers, the loafers, and the wharf-rats. There are the sailors making ready their craft for another adventurous voyage. There, far away, is the broad, ever-heaving bosom of old ocean!

All is the same, and yet all is changed; for with what different eyes, emotions, aspirations, Captain Antle regards the entire scene! His connection with it now is no longer of a material and worldly character. It is as though he came in the spirit rather than in the flesh. He is not now a part of it, as of old. He comes as from a loftier sphere and