He had often been called to drink the cup of bitterness, had he been called to drink it to its dregs?
Had his sorrow at last reached its destined depths.

He burst into tears, almost stupified, and calling upon Him who is able to guide the storm in its course and hush it to a calm; to Him whose charities have distilled like the dews of Heaven; who had fed the hungry and clothed the naked; who had opened a way of escape in the wilderness; to Him he cried for succor.

And at last in utter despair he earnestly prayed for morning or death.

Now and again a huge sea would break over the little ship, but she rode the waves as beautifully as an ocean liner.

Terribly the night wore away.