CHAPTER XIX.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

Saturday, October 31, at three o’clock in the afternoon, a mixed

assembly met on the pier in Liverpool and gazed, with not a little

apprehension, at the roily waters of the harbor and the ever-increasing

clouds of mist.

The St. Paul, while not one of the largest or most pretentious of the

American steamers, is by no means the least. Nineteen years ago she

passed us in mid-ocean, although she had left New York three days later

than we. Her parlors, refectory, and even the berths, are exceedingly

neat and comfortable. The dining-room is particularly attractive. One

thing especially noticeable on this ship is the absence of all

disagreeable, smoky or gaseous odors, which on some steamers taint even

the best-prepared viands, and often cause a feeling of nausea the moment

one enters the gangway.

May her patron, the good St. Paul, who on earth had taken so many

perilous journeys on land and sea, ever watch over his graceful white

sea-bird and lead her safely into the wished-for harbor.

Promptly at five o’clock the gong, sounding through the gangway, gave

notice of departure. For an hour or two we stood on deck and gazed out

upon the rapidly retreating lights of Liverpool, casting their rays so

awkwardly through the heavy fog which decked both land and sea.

When the last light fades out on the shore and despondency overwhelms

poor human nature, exposed to the unseen dangers of the deep, then

confidence is restored by the thought that we are ever in the presence

of Him whose watchful eye never closes, and without Whose knowledge not

even a sparrow falls to the ground.

CONFIDENCE.

God is on the sea,

As well as on the land,

Since all the mighty powers that be

Are resting in His hand.

He who gently moves the deep,

And holds the firmament above,

Will His people safely keep,

Who are trusting in His love.

He who rules the swelling wave,

When the storm is raging nigh,

Can our tortured spirits save

From His Throne of Grace on high.

And should the angel, Death,

Spread his wings above the wave,

Then our last, our dying breath,

Must be: Save! Oh Jesus, save!

Grant us Thy celestial joy

In the realms of love and light,

Where no toils, no cares annoy,

The just one, in Thy sight.

Bring our spirits home to Thee,

Where the angels’ joyous band,

Far above the deep, dark sea,

’Round Thy throne forever stand.

Before concluding, it may not be out of place to refer particularly to

the noble feelings of fraternal charity which existed among the English

people, not only in regard to the Belgians, whom they so generously

received and housed, but also with respect to their conduct toward their

Catholic fellow-citizens engaged with them in this charitable work. We

heard no more of those petty enmities which so often had arisen in times

past as to race, creed or nationality. The Catholic priest and

Protestant minister worked side by side in this good work. Ladies of

every denomination united their efforts and offered their time and money

for the sole purpose of helping the needy. No compensation was expected,

no material gains to be obtained. Thus every work performed was a work

of perfect self-sacrifice, and deserved a greater reward than earth can

repay. A golden link in the chain of love will ever more unite the

hearts of England and Belgium.

Further experience has shown that these golden links have multiplied

until the chain extends across the Atlantic, and holds in its friendly

tangles the heart of America also; who, of her rich abundance, has dealt

out to Belgium the clothing and life-giving foodstuffs which during the

past two years have saved the country from famine.

When this period of anguish is over and historians are recording for

future generations the horrors of this awful conflict, may they also

give just praise to the All-wise Being who has caused the fragrant rose

of charity to bloom among the weeds of war.

We were, or seemed to be, far out in the Irish Sea before we could tear

ourselves away from that wonderful sight. The sea was as yet quite calm,

and a number of hungry seagulls were flying around as if to bid us a

last farewell; so we remained on deck until it was found necessary to

enter and make arrangements for the night.

We were sadly disappointed on that dismal Hallow E’en in not being able

to obtain a glimpse of our own dear little Emerald Isle, so near and

dear, and yet so far away.

Next morning, Sunday, Feast of All Saints, found us out in the deep

waters of the channel, but the sea still remained calm. At half-past

seven o’clock we assisted at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, offered up

in one of the ship’s parlors.

When the service was ended we returned to our rooms, where in a few

hours we were all undergoing severe attacks of seasickness.

When again we walked the deck it was to inhale the invigorating salt sea

breeze and admire the wondrous waste of waters with the clear blue sky

above, and in the depths reflected a most beautiful picture, “Sunset on

the Sea.”

A day or two later we encountered on board, a Belgian woman en route for

Illinois, where her daughter was living. She had only sufficient money

to pay her passage to New York City, and, being unable to speak the

English language, was in great distress. The necessary sum was donated

by a Catholic clergyman of Massachusetts, by a Belgian gentleman who was

on board, and a lady of the “Committee for the Protection of Travelers.”

All needful information was given, and when we arrived in New York City

she was safely placed on the midnight train for Illinois.

Thus ended a short but fascinating mission among the Belgian refugees in

England. Thus ended the troubles, trials and sorrows of three months in

“The Great War.”

May the gory cloud soon disappear from the eastern skies and never,

never darken the gold and azure of our own American horizon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Transcriber’s note:

The contents of pages 14 and 15 were printed in reverse order. This has

been corrected.

Page 14, ‘honered’ changed to ‘honored,’ “like their time-honored

forefathers”

Page 20, ‘discused’ changed to ‘discussed,’ “in which are represented

and discussed”

Page 27, semicolon inserted after ‘peacemakers,’ “the peacemakers;

“Blessed are the”

Page 33, double quote inserted before ‘Shrine,’ “or “Shrine of Our

Blessed Lady”

Page 95, ‘soldeirs’ changed to ‘soldiers,’ “to depart, the soldiers had

returned”

Page 105, ‘greatets’ changed to ‘greatest,’ “multitudes who, in the

greatest haste”

Page 117, ‘adjoinig’ changed to ‘adjoining,’ “in the refectory or

adjoining rooms”

Page 119, ‘almsot’ changed to ‘almost,’ “in an almost dying condition”

Page 125, ‘obilged’ changed to ‘obliged,’ “would be obliged to ride”

Page 129, ‘Bom’ changed to ‘Boom,’ “back of the Boom street”

Page 136, ‘callar’ changed to ‘cellar,’ “others in the cellar, returned”

Page 150, ‘Russel’ changed to ‘Russell,’ “Southampton Row, Russell

Square, London”

Page 153, ‘Which’ changed to ‘which,’ “which seems to resemble”

Page 158, full stop changed to comma after ‘Mercier,’ “Card. Mercier, of

the Archdiocese”

Page 161, ‘woman’s’ changed to ‘women’s,’ “in the women’s department

during”

Page 167, ‘remians’ changed to ‘remains,’ “We saw the remains of the”

Page 172, double quote inserted after ‘doors?,’ “down our doors?” One

old lady”

From Convent to Conflict; Or, A Nun's Account of the Invasion of Belgium · 第 19 / 19 章