In 1872, when I was coming back from Europe, there were a number of preachers on board. A young man who had evidently crossed several times before and knew the captain, stepped up to him, and in a loud tone of voice, intending doubtless to insult some of the preachers, said he was sorry he had taken passage on the boat, as it would be unlucky to travel with so many parsons. The captain was himself a pretty rough fellow, and turning to him he said, “If you’ll show me a town in England where there are five thousand people and not one parson, I’ll show you a place a mile nearer hell than ever you’ve been.”
The young man slunk away. I’d like to take all these people who do not believe in these things and put them on an island by themselves. Why, they’d sink the first boat that touched there in their efforts to get on board and get away!