take to praying, then, my friend," said Cousin
Giles solemnly. "Ask yourself which is the best of the two."

"I am afraid I should make but a bad hand at the prayers," said the
master carelessly.

"Try," answered Cousin Giles earnestly. "But, my friend, if you will
give me leave, I will hold a service on the sacred day of rest, and
perhaps some of the passengers may join us."

"The passengers may, but I don't think you'll get many of my fellows to
attend your service," was the reply.

"I will try, at all events, if I have your permission," said Cousin
Giles.

"Oh, certainly, certainly," replied the master in a somewhat
supercilious tone; but he was not a little puzzled to make out what sort
of man Cousin Giles could be.

Cousin Giles on this went forward, and spoke to each of the men
separately, in his own peculiar, kind way, and told them that he was
anxious to thank his Maker and theirs for all the mercies they had so
often received, and invited them to join him in that act of devotion in
about an hour's time.

They all not only willingly but gladly assented to his proposal, and
promised to go aft when they were summoned. Although the master had not
discovered that Cousin Giles was a seaman, they had, and knew him to be
a true man. He then returned aft, and spoke to the passengers in the
same strain, and but very few refused to join the service. Two said
they would think about it; one had an interesting book to finish; and
another asked him if he was a parson, and said he only attended services
held by properly ordained ministers.

At the appointed hour, to the surprise of the master, every seaman,
engineer, and stoker who was not on duty came up to the wide deck over
the engine, and most of the passengers assembled there likewise. Never
was there a more attentive congregation. Cousin Giles read part of the
Church of England Liturgy, and then spoke to them from the fifteenth
chapter of Saint John's Gospel: "I am the true vine." Those who heard
him said that he explained the subject well, and that what he said went
to their hearts. The reason of this was, that he was deeply in earnest,
and anxious about the souls of his hearers. The master began even to
think that he was a parson in disguise.

The steamer passed several islands, and on Monday was running up the
Baltic in a perfect calm, the hot sun striking down on her decks, with
its shining brightness dazzling the eyes of the passengers, the nume