THE RELATIVE POSITION OF SEAMEN IN

SOCIETY.

II.

CAN nothing be done, I am tempted to ask, to alter this state of things in the sailor's position which I have described? Cannot he be brought to share the ordinary relations and responsibilities of social man? This isolation-the separate chapel, the separate boardinghouse-perhaps it is the best plan for the present; nay, I think it isbut I would venture to suggest to the benevolent friends of the sailor, whether they should not look to something beyond; whether the present plan should not be regarded as a transition state; whether these arrangements, so improving to the seafaring man, may not be a school to prepare him to enter into new relations to society? What need will there be ultimately of this clanship on shore? What need of the peculiar dress that now marks out this class? Why may it not fall and blend, like other classes, into the general mass? Suppose that it becomes enlightened and correct in manners and life, and with what advantage may it mix with general society? How much will the voyager have to communicate of what he has seen abroad; how much to learn of what has been done at home! Nay, why may not the sailor marry? Why may he not have wife and children? He is as able to support them, with their co-operation, as other labourers are to do the same thing. And he need not be a rover through the wide world. He may sail to and from the same port, and, for aught that I can see, in the same ship. And then, I would urge the sailor to husband his means; not to squander them in foolish expenses, but to lay up something for the future. Something of this, indeed, is already done; and it gives me the utmost satisfaction to know that sailors avail themselves, to some extent, of Savings' Banks established for their benefit. Let this good habit grow. It is useful to every man's character to make a provision for the future. It is a bond which the future takes for present good conduct. It is a bond to virtue. It makes an encouraging prospect. It is a sad thing to think of spending one's old age in a workhouse. Why may not the sailor have a home of his own for his declining days?

I have thus attempted to spread out a little the case of the seafaring man, and to plead his claim to something better than that sad isolation in which he lives-even to a place in the kindly relations of society. I have referred to his peculiar situation, to his hardships and temptations as an argument for consideration and forbearance. Poor, neglected, uneducated, an outcast from the civilisation amidst which he lives; treated by society as a minor, a ward, a froward and reckless child; wifeless, childless, homeless, a wanderer on the sea, a prey to APRIL.

H

every imposition and seduction on shore-is it strange that he should have become a degraded being? Society is apt to look upon this result, which is its own work, or the effect of circumstances which it has taken no pains to control, as a matter of course, or as the product of some blind necessity; but could there be a greater mistake? "The sailor will be a sailor," it says, and thus ends its catechism of duty. But surely there is a larger view, and this case of conscience is not to be so briefly settled.

Society cannot with impunity neglect any of its members. There is never a wrong but there comes a retribution in its train. If we turn from the poor and the vicious, and say to their cry, what concern is it of ours, Providence will not accept that answer at our hand. We must pay taxes for them, if we will pay nothing better. If we crush down man to be a slave, then, as a retribution to us, he is shorn of half his faculties and of his power to serve society. And if we leave the sailor to be the victim of his condition, our commerce must suffer for it. How many ships has intemperance lost? The answer is given in a plain matter of fact. Five per cent. on the premium for insurance is deducted on ships that carry no alcohol. The cause of Christianity in heathen lands suffers grievously for the vices of seafaring men. On all pagan shores our missionaries complain of this influence. Our missionary funds are half wasted from this cause. How natural the inference of unchristianised people against our religion! They reason from what they see. A missionary is sent among them to teach them a better religion than their own. He is a good man grant it. Yes, they say, but this is the priest; what sort of people, what sort of parishioners has he? And, lo! a throng of wild, lawless, dissolute, drunken sailors! The conclusion is fatal.

I appeal then most seriously and earnestly against the neglect of this class of our fellow-men.

I appeal to justice and humanity, first. If the class of seamen must be isolated from the rest of the world; if this is a necessary state of things-and at any rate it is the actual and permitted state of things; if for society's sake they are cut off from the healthful and restraining relations of society; if the commerce of the world cannot be carried on but at this tremendous sacrifice and exposure; then, I say, we are bound to do all in our power to relieve this condition, to compensate this sacrifice, to counteract this danger. Are we willing that every cargo that is landed on our wharves should cost the welfare of a soul? -for that is no undue proportion, as trade has been carried on. Are we willing that our food, clothing, comfort or luxury, brought from the other side of the world, should be purchased at this expense? Alas! how many of the enjoyments of the world are obtained on this terrible condition! On how many of our garments is the spot of blood! On how many of them fall the sweat and tears of uncompensated toil! Into how many of our luxuries is infused the smart of

human anguish! We do not bring this near to us, else we could not bear it. Were a family to single out one of its members, and say to him, "Be a wanderer and a vagabond, that we may have tea from China, and spices from the islands, and fruits from Italy, and silks from France, and bread-stuffs from America;" would they not, ere they could finish that dread commission, say, "No! no-we can do without them. No; let us live in our simplicity rather." Yet neither is this necessary. But it is necessary that we do something to take off the curse that has rested for ages on the sailor's vocation. We have heard much of "sailors' rights." This is his great right; a right to moral justice, a right to some compensatory arrangements to protect him against perils incurred for the common benefit. If a library, or a school, or a church, or a "Sailor's Home," will tend to answer that purpose, it would be but a measure of justice for society to provide it.

I appeal next in his behalf to the great social interest. What is it? Not commerce, not luxury, not clothing of purple and fine linen; but the improvement of all its members, the mutual influence of all its classes, the kindly consideration of all its relations.

The sailor has noble elements to bring into society, if we would receive them. He is a brave-hearted and generous being; there is nothing knavish or little about him. The son of the ocean has his faults, but meanness is not among them. On the bosom of that mighty mother he has not learnt the petty, trading ways of the world; to cog, and cheat, and crouch, "and smile, and smile, and be a villain." I would welcome such an element among us. I would that into the narrow and choking avenues of selfish calculation and barter should come a breath from "the great and wide sea," a breeze that has swept the soundless deep, and that should not merely cast vile sea-weed, like the sailor's wages, upon our shore, but should spread freshness and purity through our tainted atmosphere.

The sailor is a confiding and trustful man. I have heard it said that the old seaman is never an infidel. How should he be-power all around him, with mighty heavings and storm-voices; and over his head the alphabet of religion written by the finger of God! I would welcome his faith, his simple believing into our churches, and take him by the hand, as one who had seen God's wonders in the deep, and had felt that His footsteps are not measured by any narrow, paltry, exclusive sectarianism.

There is another view of the seaman's relation to society that deserves to awaken an interest in him and in his fortunes. Lonely as he seems in the world, there are those, in the home of his childhood, who feel for him, and whose prayers follow him in his trackless and unknown wanderings over the deep. The aged hand is yet there, perhaps, which once wrought the garments that were to shield him from the wintry blast-tears falling upon them the while, at thoughts

of the hardships and dangers he was to encounter. The eyes of kindred yet look out from those far homes for their lost one; and few on earth are such prayers and blessings as those which shall be there poured out upon the good and Christian men who befriend, and comfort, and save that son, that brother. O. D.

(To be continued.)

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE

Of the late Rev. George Young, D.D., Whitby. Abridged from a Funeral Sermon preached by the Rev. J. Parker, in Smyrna Chapel, Sunderland, in the evening of May 28, 1848.

FOR THE "SAILORS' MAGAZINE."

In giving a notice of Dr. Young, our words shall be those of truth and soberness, and none other would become the simplicity and artlessness of his character. Indeed, the biographer loses his labour, if he fail to place the departed individual, as he lived and moved among men, before the eyes of his kinsfolk and friends. Of what avail the glowing colours, the rich drapery thrown around the beautiful picture by the most eminent artist, if the likeness be absent from the canvas?

Dr. Young was born in the year 1777, at a small farm-house named Coxiedean, in the parish of Kirk Newton and East Calder, Midlothian. Having only the right hand at his birth, the thought of his helplessness, should he be spared, was a source of much grief to his pious and respectable parents. It, however, occasioned very little inconvenience to himself, as he was able to do all the ordinary actions of life without any assistance, as well as to conduct mechanical operations of various kinds, with great skill and ingenuity. Indeed, his independence of character must have struck all who were acquainted with him. He would never ask any one to do what was within his own power to accomplish. He had, however, no delicacy in soliciting the services of any friend to carry forward his literary or benevolent schemes, and thus often incurred the censure of individuals who, having little of the milk of human kindness, never wish to stretch out a helping hand to others. At the same time, he was always more delighted to give than to ask aid. He made several hair-breadth escapes during childhood, the recollection of which was to him a source of gratitude, and of use to check his natural courage and rashness. His parents brought him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; and at the early age of fourteen he was made savingly acquainted with a "redeeming God." He knew the Holy Scriptures, like Timothy, from his childhood, and was made wise unto salvation. The work of the ministry was Dr. Young's choice, as well as that of his parents; and all his studies were made to bear upon his future profession. His incipient habits of diligence and persevering industry in the acquisition of useful and ornamental knowledge, while he was yet very young, were happy presages of the man, the preacher, the antiquarian, the geologist, and historian.

After the usual routine of study, at the College of Edinburgh, and at the Divinity Hall of Selkirk, he was licensed to preach the gospel in the year 1805,

The particulars of his conversion will be given in a subsequent part of this notice, together with the account of his labours in the cause of seamen.

was ordained minister of the United Associate, or Burgher Congregation, of Cliff-lane, Whitby, in January, 1806, and laboured there for the long period of forty-two years. Although his congregation was never large, and the chapel burdened with debt at his settlement, yet he never complained, but was always ready to adopt the language and sentiment of the Psalmist, and frequently said, "The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage." Of him it may be truly affirmed, that he left Whitby better than he found it.

He was devoted to the work of the ministry, while at the same time his other labours were very abundant. Three public services were conducted by him every Lord's day; nor was he laid aside by illness, from his ordination, in 1806, till the fourth Sabbath of November last. His sermons, which are all written in short-hand, amounting to a large number of MS. volumes, bespeak the diligence with which he prepared for the pulpit. He is only one among few who have been able to occupy the same place three times every Lord's day for so many years; a practice which is passing into desuetude, and the sooner the better, both for ministers and people. In addition to the Sabbath services, he regularly supplied stations in the neighbourhood, where his visits were much appreciated. He exhorted from house to house once in the year, while the really afflicted and aged were the objects of more frequent care. Those, however, who thought that they should be visited every time they chose to be absent from the house of prayer, received from him that treatment which their irregularity merited. The heathen require the gospel to be carried to them, but those professing godliness are bound by the strongest obligations to come and hear it, unless necessity or mercy prevent them. We have heard the rebuke which complaints from such individuals received from this good minister of Jesus Christ. But, had he been guilty of any neglect worthy of the name, none would atone for it more readily than he.

His talents as a preacher were far above mediocrity. Some will remember those fine specimens which he could give of pulpit instruction. His attention, he confessed, was perhaps too much directed to the people of God, but added, that he thought it his peculiar province, and that there was a Barnabas as well as a Boanerges among the apostles. The fallow ground must be broken up, and there are many who can do little else; the unconverted must be convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment; yet how necessary, and at the same time how difficult, to build up saints, and to add to their faith, knowledge and virtue. I can never forget the pleasure which I have often experienced in holding conversation with many of the members of his flock on the doctrines of our holy religion, which proved that they had profited above many their equals. And it may appear at last that in churches where you will seldom see the crowd, there may be a greater number of genuine believers, than where there are attractions for the mixed multitude, and for those whose chief business it is to follow every fresh instructor, and to see and hear some new thing.

The Sabbath school received a large share of his attention, the teachers and scholars alike appreciating his visits and advice. To the young of the flock, generally, he paid the most respectful attention, and was rewarded by the accessions which he received from among them to the membership of the church. Indeed, it was principally from such persons he could expect an increase, being so far removed from sister congregations. Thus in him was exhibited the faithful and tender pastor, in whose flock more than in many others may be seen the extremes of youth and age. How interesting it was to behold him presiding over three or four generations, amid the familiar, yet dignified deportment of the friend and the minister.

(To be Continued.)