We had on our passenger list precisely the usual people, and none others. There were three Jews of different types: the strong, robust, eagle-nosed and eagle-eyed German Jew, resident of New York, going abroad on business; the keen French Jew, returning from a successful foray on New York jewelers, and the Southern Jew, who, having made a fortune in cotton, attached no value to anything else. I like the Jews, and ten days with them did not lessen my liking. They know something for certain; they do things, and they do well what they do. There was a Chicago operator in mining stocks, going abroad to place the "Great Mastodon" in London. There was the smooth-chinned, side-whiskered minister, or "priest," as he delighted in calling himself, of the Church of England, going home, and a fiery Welsh Baptist who had been laboring in the States for many years. On Sunday evening the Chicago man and a Texan engaged the English minister in a discussion on the evidences of Christianity. It was a furious controversy, and an amusing one. The Welsh Baptist was a more zealous Christian than the Church of England man, and he did by far the best part of the argument; but the priest, by look at least, resented his interference. Being a Baptist, he was entirely irregular, and did not hold up his end of the argument regularly. The priest regarded the evangelist as a regular soldier might a guerilla serving the same side. The discussion embraced every point that religionists affirm and infidels deny, commencing with the creation and coming down to the present day, with long excursions into the future. A terrible disaster was the result. The next morning the priest met the infidel on deck, and extended his hand humbly: "My dear sir," said he, "I have been thinking over the matter we discussed last night. I am convinced that you are right, and that--" "What!" exclaimed the infidel. "My dear sir, I was looking for you. Your forcible and convincing statements satisfy me that there is truth in the Christian religion, and--" Neither said more. The priest had converted the infidel to Christianity, and the infidel had converted the priest to infidelity. So far as the result upon the religion of the world was concerned, it was a stand-off. The days were devoted to all sorts of occupations. There were young men spooning young women, and young women who made a business of flirtation, or what was akin to it. One young lady who could be seen at any time in the day, in a most bewitching attitude, reclining on a steamer chair, picturesque in all sorts of wraps, held a brief conversation with her mother, who had hooked a widower the second day out. The mother was skillful at looking young, and compelled her child, therefore, to be juvenile and shy of young men. [Sidenote: HOW THE PASSENGERS AMUSED THEMSELVES.] "Helen, you were flirting with that Chicago young man, this morning!"