So spoke a tall, rough-looking seaman, as he bent over the form of a boy who was standing, with his forehead resting upon his folded arms, against the bulwarks of a ship. It was a starlight night, but

there was rather a strong breeze and a heavy sea; and the vessel plunged and rolled as she scudded along under her scanty allotment of canvas.

"Art thou asleep, lad ?"

The boy sprang up, and even in the dim light his questioner could perceive the traces of tears upon his cheeks.

Nay, Owen, never be downcast!" he said, kindly; "all must go right in the end; for the Great Captain is over all!" "But all does not go right," answered the boy, in a choking voice. "As far as I can see, all is wrong, wrong, wrong; and nobody to care for us gainsay it if you can, Jack Longley !"

"I do gainsay it God has not forgotten either you or me because we are far from shore in an outward-bound ship. He sent you here, and He'll manage all for you, if you'll only trust to Him; but you needn't be thinking you'll understand His management always."

The sailor paused, and the boy turned his face away with an impatient gesture.

"Listen to me, Owen," and Jack laid his huge hand on his young companion's shoulder. "I saw a queer thing once all wheels and rollers and bright steel rods it was in a printing office in Liverpool that I saw it. I walked round and round it; but for the dear life of me I couldn't see the use of all them cogs and twists and doublings. By-and-by they set it a-working; and then it was a marvel to see the long roll of white paper go in at one end, and come out at the other, printed on both sides, cut, and edged-just a perfect newspaper. I stood there a time, spell-bound like, watching it; but I left all the wiser for my gazing. God's dealings are pretty much like that printing press, I guess -fairly beyond the comprehension of simple folks like us; but perfect in the outworking, ne'ertheless."

The speaker stopped short, surprised at his own eloquence. John Longley, or "Long Jack," as his messmates generally called him, was the steadiest man on board the good ship "Catalina." He was known as one of the "religious sort;"

but his ready good-humour, his quick eye and strong hand, his iron frame, which could do half his comrade's work as well as his own at a pinch, had won for him and his religion respect instead of sneers. But he never was heard to "preach;" he was too shy, and had an overstrained idea of his own unworthiness. Whatever his opinions were, he had hitherto kept them to himself; and Owen, who was an apprentice lad on his first voyage, had hardly noticed that Long Jack was in any way different from the blustering, godless men who were such a terror to the timid, home-sick boy.

Owen's father had been a sailor, and, after his death, it had seemed the natural thing for his son to go to sea, that he might in future years help his mother and little sisters by his earnings. He had looked forward to this voyage with keen delight; he had always lived beside the sea, and knew all about a sailor's life, he thought. But, poor boy! he did not know how sorely he would long for his mother's face, for the sound of a home-voice, for one kindly word to cheer him amidst his hard and constant work, instead of the rough ordering, the brutal speech, the ready blow, which were showered on him daily. At home he had knelt to pray, and had called the great God his "Father:" but now, where could he pray? how could he believe? The sense of the sin and the misery of his life weighed heavily on him; he was fast getting as wicked as the rest of the crew; and it was in a moment of remorse, and almost despair, that Long Jack's unlooked-for sympathy had drawn his wild, passionate words from his lips. He was angry with himself the moment after he had uttered them; but, as Jack went on to speak so simply and gently about God's dealings with mankind, Owen's bitterness and wrath melted away, and tearswhich were different, indeed, from the scalding drops he had shed before-stole softly down his cheeks.

"It is hard to believe that God Almighty cares a pin about us," he said, presently; "for things happen so contrariwise to what I should think would be His will.”

"That's true enough," answered Jack; "but good comes

out of all, if we could only see it. If you care to listen, I'll spin you a bit of a yarn. 'Tis nigh upon an hour before our watch'll be over."

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Ay, do. Long Jack, you're a brick !" exclaimed a gruff voice behind them, which made Owen start; and one of the crew, a careless, laughing "ne'er-do-well," flung himself down on a coil of rope by their side.

Jack Longley looked a little put out of countenance. Owen had been all the audience he had bargained for; but he plucked up his courage as he said, "You knew David Burn, yourself, Bill; and I was only going to tell this youngster about him a bit.”

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Yes, I knew him. I sailed with him a voyage all the way to China and back, and he used to preach to me, and talk to me, and reprove and admonish me, as he called it; but never a morsel of good it did me, as ye're witness this day. I was sorry when I heard the poor chap was lost, though; for I don't think there was a soul aboard, captain, man, and boy, but liked him, in spite of his fads and fancies."

better stead, Bill, He used to talk

"His 'fads and fancies' stood him in than our common sense, I'm thinking. to me too, and told me the evil of the life I was leading; but little I heeded him at first. However, here's the story:

"We were bound for Liverpool from Rio, with a cargo of hides and rare woods, and all the while we were in the tropics there was scarcely wind enough to fan a feather. How the skipper did go on, to be sure! He was a violent man, if ever there was one. He'd some share in the vessel, I think, and was mighty anxious to get home speedily. He abused the men awful, and went on in such a way, that I wondered then, and have often wondered since, why they didn't mutiny. They worked his will, however, but they did it with a bad grace-all but David. He was never out of temper, but always as ready and willing and civil as if the captain had been a lady, instead of the biggest bully that ever wore a 'wrap-rascal.' We couldn't understand it, and

only laughed at him when he said he bore all for the sake of the Great Captain up above."

Jack touched his cap with his forefinger as he spoke. "One day, when we'd been out about six weeks, crawling along on a sea like oil, the breeze came. It was right aft, and we made the most of it, and went over the water like a swallow. The captain was in mighty good humour, and, after prancing about on deck a while, he went below to drink a glass to our good speed; so the cabin-boy told us, as he came up from putting the grog on the table. Two or three hours the wind stood fair and steady, then it began to freshen and grow gusty, and presently we saw we must shorten sail. The skipper was called, and we noticed at once that he was in liquor. He snapped out his words like rifle-shots, and bid lots of things to be done at once.

"The jib was set; it was an old sail, and the force of the gale split it up a bit. That sail must be sewn!' thundered the skipper.

"The water was dashing right over the bowsprit as the ship plunged into the trough of the sea. Just as he spoke a big wave washed into her bows with a force which would have swept off a dozen men.

"Sir,' said the mate, ''tis risk of life to cobble up the sail in weather like this. We had better

"Are you captain, or am I?' shouted the skipper. 'Keep your coward opinion to yourself till you're asked for it. Jack Longley and David Burn, lay out on the jibboom, and lace together that rent with an end of twine.' "He spoke slowly and loudly, though his face was white with passion. I looked at David. 'Will you go?' I asked, Yes,' said he, quite cheerful-like; "'tis my duty; and if I'm washed overboard, 'tis no concern of mine. If my work is done on earth, God knows I'm ready to go to His kingdom in heaven.'

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"Those were his very words, youngster. I've thought about them too often to forget them; and as he said them he looked straight in my eyes, and smiled.