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38 Snapshots from the North Pacrfic.

think they are comforting me. Last night George’s mother
came in, and burst into loud wailing. It is most distressing |

HB | to witness her grief. As soon as the crying was nearly spent
i } ! I pointed out to her a photograph of Mr. Sheldon’s mother.
Ina moment she became calm, and gazed upon it with pity im
every feature. Her motherly heart poured sympathy on the
Ll more aged mother. It was evidently a relief to her. As if
a she saw her fellow-sufferer, she began to softly speak in most
loving tones: ‘O, dear lady, your son led my son along the
way to God. Both now see Jesus, see God. It is bitter to
| us—to you, lady, and to me—but sweet to them. Do not
ee die, lady ; only their flesh lies in the river. It is well, all is
i well. God’s will is good. Oh (here she moaned), my heart
is broken. But it is all, all well with them. The grief stays |
here. None gets into heaven. They are with Jesus. We
suffer because they are gone, but not they. They left pain
behind to us. They feel no cold, they cannot be wrecked
(capsized), they see God. All is well, nothing ill, nothing
wanting with Jesus. Dear lady, you look older than I am.

God knows which will first see our sons, mine with bright
light over him, yours near Jesus. I may first see them. Do
not die, lady. You will see your son, because the mother
of so holy a priest must be good.’ The pathetic words and
sympathetic tone of this illiterate but true Christian moved
me almost to tears. They comforted me. The simplicity
and faith were so evidently genuine that I was thereby helped
to bear my own burden.

“IT pray God to raise up one to worthily succeed our
departed brother.”

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