I have not yet determined by what vessel to return; I have a choice of a great many.

The Ceres is the first that sails, but I do not like her accommodations.

The Liverpool packet sails about the 25th, and, as she has always been a favorite ship with me, it is not improbable I may return in her." He decided to sail in the Ceres, however, to his sorrow, for the voyage home was a long and dreadful one.

The record of those terrible fifty-eight days, carefully set down in his journal, reads like an Odyssey of misfortune and almost of disaster.
To us of the present day, who cross the ocean in a floating hotel, in a few days, arriving almost on the hour, the detailed account of the dangers, discomforts, and privations suffered by the travellers of an earlier period seems almost incredible.

Brave, indeed, were our fathers who went down to the sea in ships, for they never knew when, if ever, they would reach the other shore, and there could be no C.Q.D.or S.O.S.
flashed by wireless in the Morse code to summon assistance in case of disaster.