Remember that man’s conscience and man’s mind Are agents of Thy purpose and Thy plan, Which work within a deadlier revenge Than any shrapnel shot or sabre thrust. Remember that new generations come Upon whom fall the burden and the curse, The anguish of old hatreds and past wrongs, The crushing debt, the struggle and despair. Restrain, O God, the sweep of this vast hate; Recall the nations to their sense of shame: To those in blinding war, to us at peace, Reveal anew the message of the Christ. WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON, JR. (Reprinted by permission of the author and of the Boston _Transcript_) THE LUSITANIA’S LAST VOYAGE PART I 6, NEW OXFORD STREET, LONDON, W. C., May 12, 1915 Our voyage from New York had been uneventful and in fact it was quite a “Lauriat Crossing”; fine weather, smooth sea, and after the first few hours of Sunday (May 2) there had been no fog up to Friday morning (May 7), when it came in for a short time. The speed of the boat had not been what I had expected it would be, for after the first full run of 24 hours, in which we covered 501 miles, the run dropped each day to well below the 500 mark, and the last 24 hours up to Friday noon (May 7) we made only 462 miles. This was partly accounted for by the fact that we picked up Greenwich time at Cape Clear and put the clock ahead 1 hour and 40 minutes. The reason this small run impressed itself upon my mind was that I expected that when we sighted the Irish Coast the “Lucy” would show a burst of “top speed” and that we should go flying up at not less than 25 miles an hour. The run up to Thursday noon (May 6) had been 484 miles, and so confident was I that she would put on steam that I bought the high number in the pool (for Friday), which was 499. It was the only pool I went into and I couldn’t help it, for the number sold at £3.0.0 and at that price it looked like a “bargain.” During the forenoon of Thursday (May 6) we swung out and uncovered 22 lifeboats, 11 on each side, showing Captain Turner’s preparedness towards emergency. I was keenly interested in all that was done aboard ship as we approached the Irish Coast, and in fact all through the voyage I kept my eyes unusually wide open. At night the shades in the saloon were closely drawn, and I noticed that my bedroom steward left a note for the night watchman stating just which ports were open when he (the steward) went off duty. Friday noon when the run was posted I was surprised, for I certainly thought that this was the time to put on speed. The sea was smooth as a pancake, an ideal chance for a dash up the coast. When I heard the fog horn early Friday morning I turned over and took another snooze, for there was no use in getting up if it was foggy and disagreeable weather. The fog did not last long and was nothing more than a morning mist.