takes one through the tropics, with all their freshness, novelty, and variegated scenery.

The steamer Hindostan, bound for Calcutta, was lying at anchor in the harbor of Hong-Kong as I arrived there, after bidding farewell to kind friends in Canton. My trunk was transferred to the steamer by a Chinese sampan, and after putting my stateroom in order, preparatory to the long voyage, I looked around the city, and then visited some of the ships in the harbor. The United States flagship Hartford was riding gracefully at anchor, with spars trimmed and flag floating aloft. She seemed like an old friend, for I had frequently been on board of her in the harbor of Yokohama, and inspected her heavy armament and neatly-kept decks. A sort of historic halo surrounded the old ship, to whose maintop Commodore Farragut was lashed during the naval action at Mobile. The vessel did excellent service during the civil war.

I went on board the Hartford and called on Captain Harmony; he welcomed me cordially, and as we walked the deck he talked kindly and appreciatingly of a faithful Christian relative and friend of whose death we had learned by the last mail. The captain was called away to receive Admiral Pennock, who had just paid an offi

cial visit to the Russian frigate. As the band played and the marines presented themselves in uniform, we expected to hear the salute of twentyone guns usually paid as a compliment to the admiral, to which the Hartford would have replied with an equal number. But somehow the Russians were saving of their powder this time. Salutes were quite frequent, however, from the various ships-ofwar. The Kearsarge was also with the Hartford at Hong-Kong. I went on board of her, and stroked with special pride and interest the big gun that is her chief boast. The vessel has been entirely rebuilt and repaired since the war. The British iron-clad Audacious, sister-ship to the Iron Duke, reposed solidly on the water, looking as immovable as a rock. She appeared the very picture of strength, with her heavy armor, splendid Armstrong guns, and defiant man-of-war ensign flying at the stern. Two or three of the old line-of-battle ships were lying dismantled, covered with canvas roofing, and used as ammunition storeships. One of Holt's large steamers came sailing up the bay, just arrived from Liverpool.

On Sunday I attended service at the Cathedral of Hong-Kong. Chaplain Lewis of the Hartford preached the sermon, from the text, "First the

blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear." The singing was very fine, especially one hymn, "For those in peril on the sea." The well-trained choir

and solemn strains of the organ rendered this hymn a well-timed and appropriate prayer, in which we all joined, for it was a special favorite in the far East.

Several months afterwards, when in a terrific storm on the Arabian Sea, this verse was continually coming to my mind, with the music that so beautifully gave it expression :

"Eternal Father! strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep,

Oh, hear us when we cry to thee

For those in peril on the sea."

After church I walked across to the foreign. cemetery, and was surprised at its extent and beauty. Many of the monuments were very elaborate and costly; but hundreds of graves were unmarked by headstones, showing that many unknown persons, dying in a foreign land, had been brought and buried here.

The steamer Hindostan sailed on Monday after-
All was bustle on board up to the time of

noon.

departure; the captain was sick, and confusion reigned for awhile. The vessel was an opiumsteamer, belonging to Sassoon Sons & Co., an Indian firm. Coming from Calcutta, she carried a valuable cargo of opium, which is worth its weight in silver. Returning to Calcutta, she carried a few first-class passengers, general merchandise, and specie. It was no unusual occurrence for her to take back two hundred tons of silver. On this trip she carried five hundred Chinese in the steerage, bound for Singapore. The sailors were Chinese, and the servants and waiters were turbaned Hindoos.

The south China Sea has usually a bad reputation for storms, and I anticipated a rough time of it. But the voyage proved the calmest I had ever experienced. The sail down the bay was beautiful, and Victoria Peak was soon left far behind; a smooth sea and cloudless sky lay before us. Day after day we went on, the ocean appearing like a limitless lake, and the water and sky touching all around the vast margin, both blue and peaceful, as though storms were never known here. At night the moon came up over the sea in full glory; its broad, silvery pathway upon the water was superb.

The heavenly constellations shifted somewhat as we approached the equator, and new stars came

continually into view. The Dipper gradually dwindled in size, and finally passed below the northern horizon. The north star also disappeared. Orion and the Pleiades seemed to move over us nearer than before, and went down in the west, while the "milky way" was ever bright and beautiful. The Southern Cross was seen, and other trans-equatorial constellations; but the former disappointed me in its brilliancy, and none of the latter were equal in beauty and lustre to the starry clusters in our own hemisphere.

The solitude of the sea appeared at times almost oppressive as I sat alone on deck during the long moonlight evenings; not a breath of air rippled the surface of the ocean, and the ship moved silently onward through the calm waste of waters, while scarcely a jar could be felt from the pulsation of her machinery. Hour after hour was lazily spent in brooding over the beauties of the scene, and in wondering, with Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner," at the limitless expanse before me.

"Alone on the wide, wide sea,

So lonely 't was, that God himself

Scarce seeméd there to be."

But the least enjoyable part of my reflections was that pertaining to a mysterious robbery, of