No doubt this remark is true and extends to a good many other things;
but in a ship in the middle of the ocean, when the least confusion or
irregularity in certain cases might be destruction to all on board, it
does inspire confidence to see that there is even in the minutest things
a strong and steady system, that goes on without saying "by your leave."
Even the rigidness with which lights are all extinguished at twelve
o'clock, though it is very hard in some cases, still gives you
confidence in the watchfulness and care with which all on board is
conducted.

On Sunday there was a service. We went into the cabin, and saw prayer
books arranged at regular intervals, and soon a procession of the
sailors neatly dressed filed in and took their places, together with
such passengers as felt disposed, and the order of morning prayer was
read. The sailors all looked serious and attentive. I could not but
think that this feature of the management of her majesty's ships was a
good one, and worthy of imitation. To be sure, one can say it is only a
form. Granted; but is not a serious, respectful _form_ of religion
better than nothing? Besides, I am not willing to think that these
intelligent-looking sailors could listen to all those devout sentiments
expressed in the prayers, and the holy truths embodied in the passages
of Scripture, and not gain something from it. It is bad to have only
_the form_ of religion, but not so bad as to have neither the form nor
the fact.

When the ship has been out about eight days, an evident bettering of
spirits and condition obtains among the passengers. Many of the sick
ones take heart, and appear again among the walks and ways of men; the
ladies assemble in little knots, and talk of getting on shore. The more