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The Old
World! It had been for years my eager desire and hope to see it—to
be a pilgrim in its lands historic and sacred, with it are associated the
great and thrilling events of the past. I had longed to look upon its mountains,
lakes, and rivers, its cities and people, its monuments and ruins. At length
by a favoring Providence, the way was prepared, and the preliminaries of
the tour arranged. The City of Elms, and dear friends, offering their prayers
and benedictions, were left behind, and on a beautiful day at noon I embarked
from New York on the steamer City of Washington. It was a sad moment, parting
with those who had accompanied me to the ship. We watched each other, I
on deck and they on the wharf, waving our handkerchiefs, ‘till we
could discern each other no longer. Then there were tearful eyes on ship
and shore. Such a scene and one’s indescribable emotions are not to
be forgotten, as the ship begins to move, and tears him away, ‘till
friends and native land lack from sight.
The monotony of sea life is broken in various ways. Now it is calm and
clear, and the sun goes down to rest in a bed of molten gold. Then come
fogs, rains, and gales, and the waves roll and break furiously, while
the ship careens and pitches as he struggles on. There is something indescribably
grand in the extent and movements of “This great and wide sea”.
I watch it for hours with constant and delightful thoughts of Him who
holds the waters in the hollows of His hand, and whose footsteps are in
the great deck. I had longed to see icebergs, and was gratified. Among
several seen at different times, one was gloriously magnificent and beautiful,
as it loomed up at some distance, like a splendid architectural pile,
with domes and minerals glittering in the setting sun.
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