prompted it, and
in this sense it was Christlike. "Inasmuch," said the great Storm
Walker who quieted storm-tossed Galilee "as ye do it unto one of the
least of these My little ones, ye do it unto Me."

Very near the line of punishment did I approach when on this brig.
Working one day on the foretopsail yard, my knife, which by some
means had become detached from my lanyard, fell on the forecastle.
Fortunately it struck no one, and I was reprimanded only.

The course of training being completed, I was sent back to the
'Impregnable' on draft for sea. Within a few days an order was
received stating that a large company of boys were required for the
North American and West Indian Station, and I was numbered amongst
them.

CHAPTER III

LEAVING FOR SEA

A few days prior to our departure, Miss Weston kindly invited the
draft ashore to her Sailors' Rest to tea, and presented each of us
with a Bible, and gave us all a tender farewell. Never will time
erase from my mind the memory of the parting with my loved ones; it
pains me now even as I dwell upon it. It was Sunday afternoon, and
two days prior to my sailing for Bermuda, when the heartrending
parting took place. Love can never say its last 'good-bye,' and
especially is this true of a mother's love. What thoughts were
passing through her mind that Sunday afternoon? God knows fully.
But surely they were tinged with this reflection: Would she ever see
me again? A shadow deep and dark had recently fallen across the home.
During my 'Foudroyant' days a messenger came on board with the sad
news that my dear sister had been almost burnt to death. I will not
dwell on the sadness of the awful tragedy, save to remark that she
died through the cause of the terrible burns three days after the
accident. The effect this had upon my mother is almost beyond
expression. Her nerves were shattered and she became a physical
wreck, and to this day she has never recovered from the shock. Judge
then, her sorrow on the Sunday afternoon, when I was bidding
'farewell,' and within a short time of that overwhelming experience.
I was now going thousands of miles away for three years, severed
from paternal counsel and maternal affection, and on this occasion
she was drinking the dregs of her cup of grief. Again, amidst
choking sobs and scalding tears, I uttered the last 'good-bye.' The
time had come for leaving, and I must depart. With two Sunday School
scholars, one on either side (for I had