The main cabin of the Ontario consists of thirty staterooms, seven feet long by six wide, and with two berths each. There are thirty-two first class passengers, fifteen gentlemen, twelve ladies and five children. In the matter of religion, there are among these some ten Catholics, Protestants of diverse shadings, freethinkers or infidels and a few Jews. All this mixture is wafted in peace over the American waters. It is for the priest to make himself " all things to all men," to win them to Jesus Christ, according to the beautiful maxim of the apostle. I say mass in my stateroom, where I have scarce room to turn about at the
" Dominus vobiscum " and the " Orate fratres." Sundays and feast days I leave the door open, and the Catholics come to attend the divine service, outside, on the gangway; each time I have had the consolation of seeing several children of the Church devoutly approach the holy table. I often have an opportunity to discuss one or other point of our holy religion with my traveling companions, who never weary of asking me questions, and I invariably find them upright, attentive and respectful.
One Protestant lady has been regenerated in the holy waters of baptism, and I venture to hope that several others will have the good fortune to follow her example, for their fidelity to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and the Lord's grace.
The Long days are passed in social conversations, sometimes political, sometimes scientific or religious. Storytellers or jokers are never lacking in an assemblage of American travelers. Some read, others play at cards or dice, or perhaps checkers or other games of chance, the names of which are unknown to me. Evenings, we amuse ourselves by proposing charades - somebody imitates some animal or other, as the antelope or buffalo, or suggests
some word or question, and the audience guesses. But the principal amusement, in the main cabin, appears to be dancing to the sound of music, and on moonlight nights there are concerts out on deck, with mirth and refreshments.