This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
 said to me: “Father, I have given up my home people and my husband, but I do not see how I could bear it if Hildegard (then three years old) should cry as we go down.” A French countess who was in perturbation of mind told me she prayed constantly, but still she was so afraid she could not take off her boots. One elderly Jew from Russia was on his knees most of the time weeping. He insisted that he was the Jonah because he had come away from home without bidding his family adieu. He thought that if we would throw him overboard safety would surely come. On Sunday morning I was trying to encourage a fellow-passenger who had hard work to repress his fear, when from the next table a member of Mr. Beecher's old church in Brooklyn called out: “I don't see where you get your confidence.” I put my hand on my breast and said: “I do not know, but it is in there.” I suppose, accustomed to danger as I was, this did not disturb me as much as it did some others. Mr. Moody proposed to me that we have a service, as it was Sunday. He said: “You see the captain; you can do that better than I can.” I found the captain in his place in the pilot house. Though suffering excruciatingly from an attack of cholelithiasis, he answered: “A Christian service! Oh, yes, I am that way myself.” I went at once and saw the head steward and arranged for a service between ten and eleven o'clock of that morning in the dining salon. Then I reported to Mr. Moody what I had done. He said, “Tell the people.” I went one way and said that Mr. Moody would have a service in the dining salon, and Will Moody
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.