en then a vessel was speeding
to save them, that God had answered their prayers, that next day as
morning dawned they would see her. That night was one of great anxiety.

"As morning dawned every eye was strained to see the promised ship.
There truly she was, and the British Queen bore down upon them. You may
think that with thankful hearts they left the Loch Earn. One thing is
remarkable--_the officer in charge on board the British Queen had a most
unaccountable feeling that there was something for him to do,_ and
_three times during the night he changed the course of the vessel,
bearing northward_. He told the watch to keep a sharp lookout for a
ship, and immediately on sighting the Loch Earn bore down upon her. At
first he thought she had been abandoned, as she lay helpless in the
trough of the sea, but soon they saw her signal of distress. It seems to
me a remarkable instance of faith on the one side and a guiding
Providence on the other. After they were taken on board the pilot-boat
that brought them into Plymouth, at noon, when they for the last time
joined together in prayer, Mr. Cook read to them the account of Paul's
shipwreck, showing the similarity of their experience. _'What made that
captain change his course against his will?' but the ever present Spirit
of God"_.

THE STORM MADE CALM.

At a Sunday morning meeting at Repository Hall, January 25, 1874, a
Christian brother, in illustration of the power and faithfulness of God,
and his willingness to hear and answer prayer, related these facts in
his own experience. An account of them was subsequently published in the
_Christian_:

"In 1839 I was a sailor on board the brig Pandora, Captain G----, bound
from Savannah to Boston, with a cargo of cotton. When off the coast of
Virginia, some twenty-five miles distant from Chesapeake Bay, we
encountered a heavy gale. Saturday evening, December 21st, the wind blew
gently from the south. On sounding, we found ourselves in thirty fathoms
of water. At midnight the wind veered to the eastward, gradually
increasing until four o'clock Sunday morning, by which time the brig was
under close-reefed topsails and foresail. The wind still increasing,
every stitch of canvas was taken in, and now the vessel lay helpless and
unmanageable in the trough of the sea, not minding her helm at all,
while the wind blew a perfect hurricane. The vessel being very light,
loaded with cotton, made much leeway, and though we had worn sh