Refuge was sailing in safety: the crew and passengers were tranquil, and happy, and "joyful in hope," that the rest of the voyage would be prosperous. Then they sang:

"Since thou hast bid us come to thee,

(Good as thou art, and strong to save)
We'll sail o'er life's tempestuous sea,
Upborne by the unyielding wave;
Dauntless, though rocks of pride be near,
And yawning whirlpools of despair."

The two vessels continued their voyage, day after day, week after week, and year after year, till those who had their management began to suppose that they were not far from the desired haven. But while attempting to descry land, the shades of evening came on, the wind arose, the sea became boisterous, the night was exceedingly dark," neither moon nor stars appeared," save "the star out of Jacob," which shot its enlivening rays through the dark and dismal gloom, and cheered every soul on board the Refuge.

The sea continuing to rage, Captain Goodwill gave orders to take soundings, for the purpose of casting anchor. They sounded, and found good ground for anchorage, they then cast anchor and sang:

"Now I have found the ground wherein

Sure my soul's anchor may remain,—

The wounds of Jesus, for my sin

Before the world's foundation slain :

Whose mercy shall unshaken stay,

When heaven and earth are fled away."

Still the sea continued to rage and foam; and the waves dashed over the vessel. "Never mind," said those on board, "we have a strong cable, our anchorage is good, our anchor is sure and steadfast, and entereth into that within the veil, whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus." And they sang again : —

"Though waves and storms go o'er my head,

Though strength, and health, and friends be gone,
Though joys be withered all and dead,

Though every comfort be withdrawn,

On this my steadfast soul relies:

Father, thy mercy never dies."

The wind still blew a very heavy gale, and the sea ran mountains high; "Never mind," said those on board, "every heavy surge that dashes against the vessel strikes our anchor deeper and deeper; we have firmer and firmer hold of the Forerunner." Then they sang again :

"Fixed on this ground will I remain,

Though my heart fail, and flesh decay ;

This anchor shall my soul sustain,

When earth's foundations melt away:
Mercy's full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love."

While the Refuge thus lay safely at anchor, the Carnal-security was much agitated and tossed by the tempest. Captain Presumption being at his wit's end, and not knowing what to do, and seeing the Refuge riding safely, ordered to take soundings-for it is not uncommon for a sinner to wish to die like a saint; they did so, but could find no ground fit for anchorage. In a state of perplexity and embarrassment, he then said, "Heave the anchor overboard; "but what was their amazement and dismay, there was none. The wicked, while in health and safety, imagine that they have a hope of

heaven; but in danger or death, that hope expires. "When a wicked man dieth, his expectation shall perish."

The great danger of this vessel now became very evident to all on board, for she made much water, which could not be kept under by the pumps; the sea also wrought and was very tempestuous. A strong wave tore away the rudder, so that she became quite unmanageable. The crew and passengers were terrified with the impervious horrors of a high, rocky, leeward shore. In this state of hopeless dismay, how piteous and heart-rending their self-accusations and lamentations!

Shallow said:-"I fondly thought that I had a hope of heaven, but in my distress, instead of being my stay, I find that it perishes."

Purblind said:-"I wonder that we could never see our danger till this hour; now, I fear, it is too late to redeem our misspent moments."

Self-conceit said :--" If we had given heed to the sure word of prophecy, which shines as a light in a dark place, we should not now be in this distress. But woe unto us! we have been wise in our own eyes, and prudent in our own sight. Clear-sight warned us of the consequence, but we treated him with scorn, and dismissed him from the vessel as an intolerable nuisance, and cried peace and safety; but now sudden destruction is come upon us, and we cannot escape."

Miss Giddy's smirking countenance could not now produce one smile. "I wish," said she," that I had considered my latter end."

Mrs. Tell-or-hear-some-new-thing was now in a pensive mood. "I lament,' ," said she, "that I have busied myself so much about what never belonged to me. Had I attended to my own business, I should have been in safety on board the Refuge; but now, alas! I fear that I am ruined for ever."

Mr. Love-lie, in a state of great emotion, said :—"How wondrous strange it is, that I should never awake out of my dream of delusions till now, to everlasting shame and contempt."

Lady Gay was now sad. "I used," said she, "to be taken up with attending to the fashion of this world, which has passed away, and left me in the lurch. I was very glad when Clear-sight was ejected; he, however, now rides in safety in the Refuge, but eternal misery awaits me."

Lord Lullaby said:"I have been taken up with eating and drinking; I have boasted of sensual gratifications, which are now for ever fled; I despised the conduct of those on board the Refuge; they, however, are now safe and happy, but I am miserable, and in imminent danger of being lost for ever."

Care-for-nothing and Vain-glory lamented their folly in having been careless and high-minded. "Our negligent conduct," said they, "we fear, has greatly contributed to this calamitous end."

Presumption, aghast with fear, said :-" I thought that I was much better qualified to command a vessel than Goodwill; but now I find myself wofully mistaken; I would give all the world to be in the situation of Goodwill, but it's all over now."

All this while the waves only increased in fury, and the vessel began to fill with water. She continued to sink lower and lower, till the water covered her. They who could, climbed into the shrouds for safety-but all in vain ; she sank lower and lower, till she was entirely under water. They were wrecked on the horrible coast, and sank down into the regions of hell. Every soul on board perished. The skies were pierced with their cries, which were heart-rending; and their groans were too big for utterance. Their end was without God, and without hope.

From an end so hopeless and wretched may we be preserved, "through the dear might of Him who walked the waves.'

During the awful wreck of Carnal-security, the Refuge was riding in safety at anchor. After some time, the wind abated, the sea became calm, the morning began to dawn, the sun shone, and the day was remarkably clear. The passengers who had been below came on deck for the purpose of

enjoying the delightful calm after the storm. They were desirous, if possible, to descry land, but they could not by the naked eye. All, however, on board this vessel were provided with excellent glasses or telescopes; for it by means of a telescope objects can be seen which are invisible to the naked eye--and if, by means of faith, God and the things of God may be seenthere is considerable propriety in comparing the faith of the Christian to the telescope of the mariner.

Captain Goodwill was possessed of an excellent instrument, and began to make use of it. Vigilant asked:-"What do you see, captain?" "I see," he replied, "the celestial city; her walls are of jasper and gold, and her buildings are clear as crystal. I see rivers of life divine, and trees of paradise." Vigilant now made use of his telescope. "What are you able to see?" inquired the captain. "I see," replied he, my father yonder. I was, in the former part of my life, a thoughtless sinner, serving on board the Carnalsecurity, weary and heavy-laden; my father often besought me to leave her: I thank my Divine Master that I ever did. How woful would my case be now, had I continued on board that vessel! On the contrary, the prospect which I now have of a place in the New Jerusalem, and of enjoying for ever the society of the redeemed from every nation, is very delightful."

Faithful took his telescope. "What do you see?" inquired Vigilant. "I see," replied he, "my good mother. When leaving this world, she said, 'I hope to see you in the house of our heavenly Father, and if permitted, I will await your arrival there.' Yonder she is, enjoying the end of her faith, the salvation of her soul; what a joyful meeting awaits us in the celestial city!" There was on board the virtuous woman, (described Prov. xxxi. 10-31,) whose price is far above rubies. She was possessed of a very excellent telescope, and while employed in using it, she appeared highly pleased. Faithful inquired :-"What is that at which you appear so highly delighted?" She answered, "I see a flaming seraph, and three little cherubs standing by him, and in their faces I recognise the countenances of my three infant boys. How glorious and beautiful they now appear! I wept and sorrowed when they were taken from me; but I shall soon have the favour of their company, never again to be separated."

Love-truth then took up his telescope. "What do you see?" inquired Sincerity. "I see," replied Love-truth, "a great multitude, which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands. Hush!" said he, "they are singing-crying with a loud voice-saying, 'Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.' Hush! let us listen, they are singing again; saying, 'Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God, for ever and ever.-Amen.'"

"If," said Sincerity, "so much is to be seen, I will try the use of my telescope."

Love-truth asked:-" What do you see?" "I behold not only what you have seen, but I also see Immanuel, not as he once was-a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief-but as he now appears in His glory."

Then they sang

"By faith we already behold, That lovely Jerusalem here; Her walls are of jasper and gold,

As crystal her buildings are clear:

Immovably founded in grace,

She stands as she ever hath stood;
And brightly her builder displays,
And flames with the glory of God."

"Weigh anchor, lads," exclaimed the captain, "for faith vanishes in sight, and hope dies in fruition." The anchor being weighed, a fine breeze filled the swelling sails of the Refuge, while she rode in majesty into the celestial haven. Myriads of glorified spirits and celestial angels were standing ready on the heavenly shore, to welcome the ship's company on their safe arrival

in the haven of eternal repose, in the paradise of God. The trumpeters were blowing their trumpets-the harpers harping with their harps-and all the bells in the city did ring. Brother meets brother, and friend meets friend— husbands their wives-parents their children-pastors their flocks. And, above all, there is Jesus and his ransomed people. What a joyful meeting-a meeting which shall never be followed by parting. If there be joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, how much must the joy be enhanced at the landing of a whole ship's company in glory? "There all the ship's company meet,

The voyage of life's at an end—
The mortal affliction is past;
The age that in heaven they spend,
For ever and ever shall last."

Who sailed with the Saviour beneath; With shouting each other they greet, And triumph o'er trouble and death. If we find, on examination, that we are on board the Carnal-security, let us forthwith leave that vessel, and not be beguiled either by the father of lies or any of his servants--Shallow, Purblind, Self-conceit, Care-for-nothing, or any other, lest we suffer a wreck that will consign us to irretrievable ruin. Let those who, on strict examination, find that they are on board the Refuge, continue strong in faith-secure a good hope through grace-expand their affections to lay hold of every gracious breeze--and without ceasing pray : Come, Lord of hosts, the waves divide,

66

And land us all in heaven!"

THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.

(From the "Churchman's Monthly Penny Magazine.”)
It was morn when I saw those two little ships
Heave their anchors and bear away;

If now so far severed at noon's sunny hour,
Ah! what at the close of the day!

How nobly that foremost bark rides o'er the wave,
How ready and steady her crew,

'Midst currents and shoals she is watchfully steered,
Her captain a mariner true.

With eye on the compass and hand on the helm,

His course and his reckoning true,

He has spread every inch of his canvas to catch
The favouring gales as they blew.

Not so with the other-she's lagging behind,

The prey of her negligent course:

She stemmed not the current, and caught not the breeze,
She yields to the storm's coming force;

For thick darkness has now enveloped the scene,

And the winds and the thunder roar:

The friends that are waiting to welcome her home
Shall see her, it may be, no more!

O Christian! beware, on thy heaven-ward course,
Of yielding to indolent ease,

But steadfastly set all thy efforts to catch
The Spirit's soft favouring breeze.

By His power alone thy progress is sped,
But slacken not effort and prayer,

Till entered full sail in the haven of rest,
You safely find anchorage there.

E.

Dear Sir, I have to thank you for your attention to my communication, inserted in the last Magazine. Many may consider it a bad specimen of my practical seamanship, when they read of steering a ship while moored in Table Bay; whereas the phrase I employed was "sheering wildly," which every sailor would at once understand. I now endeavour to redeem my promise, by sending a statement of very different results, &c.

When cruising off Vigo in the Indefatigable frigate, Captain Sir Edward Pellew, a Spanish schooner came alongside in a sinking state, with her sails flying about in tatters, and one man labouring at the pump. Our men were

ordered in to clear her of her cargo of grain, but she sank before that was accomplished, and one of our men was carried down with her, and was lost. The master and crew had sprung out when she touched our ship, and were sitting on the quarter-deck; when handing their things aft to the captain's cabin, the master eagerly seized a little crucifix (which our sailors jocosely called "a wooden Jesus"), and most devoutly kissed the feet. The mate did the same, and all the crew, except the old man we observed pumping. Purser's beds were spread for them in the gun-room, and in the morning Sir Edward sent a man down, who spoke Spanish fluently, to see if they had been comfortable. When the man asked the master if he was not thankful to God for sending our ship in the way for their providential escape, he vehemently exclaimed, "Me pray San Antonio, and he send the frigaat to save us." He was taking this crucifix to St. Andero, in order to get it consecrated by the bishop there, for family use in his house. The little old man told us, that on the same night that they left Vigo, a squall split the foresail, and the captain fell on his knees, praying to St. Antonio to help him. Another squall tore the mainsail-St. Antonio was again implored! and the vessel labouring in the trough of the sea without any sail to steady her, shipped a great deal of water. Then all hands, master, mate, and crew were on their knees, uttering the most pitiable cries to St. Antonio to help them; but, said he, "San Antonio no sailmaker; he not mend the sail, and he no like work; and nobody pump but me." When asked why he did not pray to St. Antonio, like the others, he said, "Me no care for San Antonio; me been prisoner in English ship when taken in a French ship; me no see English sailor care for San Antonio in gale of wind, but reef the sail and make all right, and me no care for San Antonio now, for he no help us, and I pump as long as I can to save myself.”

Now, Sir, my object is, that some who read this may, in one sense, take example from this poor ignorant Spanish Papist, who had never been taught to supplicate the Most High God for succour in trouble, but was determined not to perish for want of that exertion which he was enabled to put forth. And I hope the time will never come, when British seamen will be so besotted as to betake themselves simply to praying, when the providence of God calls upon them also for manly exertion. And as your noble institution is intended to lead our sailors to the habitual worship of a Triune God, in seasons of safety and calm, so that they may with confidence lift up their hearts in ejaculatory prayer to God, in the severest storm, while exerting themselves at hauling out and passing an ear-ing, at a weather (or, what is more hazardous, at a lee) yard-arm, in a dark night, I earnestly pray that you may have abundant success in your Christian philanthropy. I greatly