thanksgiving and prayer. It is a noble sight to behold men thus situated openly acknowledging to their Maker and to themselves the high source and destiny of their existence; and thus, tacitly at least, encouraging one another to lay hold of the joyous hopes of the gospel.

To believe it an unwelcome and irksome duty to the crew, is a mistake. There may be individuals who regard it as such, but they are few indeed in comparison with the many, who give the most evident proofs of the interest and satisfaction with which they engage in it. Ten minutes is the utmost limit of the time thus occupied: the reading of a hymn, or a few verses in the Bible, or the making of half a dozen remarks, to prepare the thoughts and feelings for the more hallowed exercise of a short prayer, constitutes the whole. All give the most serious and respectful attention; while a youthful company of some fifty or sixty, the flower of our crew, usually press closely to me with more than ordinary interest. Among them are several professedly religious, and others seriously disposed; and not unfrequently, the satisfaction they take in the service is expressed by a smile of pleasure, or kindly glance from a sparkling eye, as, with the closing amen, they replace their hats, and join their fellows turning silently away under the influence of a chastened, if not a devotional feeling.

From the observations already made on the effect of this regulation, I am fully persuaded that a more powerful auxiliary in the discipline of a ship could not be adopted; and that this single service, properly

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performed, would soon be found to do more in promoting the good order of a crew, than all the hard-earn ness of the rope's end, backed by the terrors of the cat-o'-nine-tails. This is far from being my own solitary opinion-it is that of many of the officers on board. Prayers had scarce been established a week, before one of the most skillful and popular, but at the same time, one of the most gay and thoughtless of their number, in expressing his sentiments on this subject, closed with the following remark :"Whatever may be said to the contrary, Mr. Stewart, there is nothing like a service of religion in elevating the character of a crew-it makes different men of them, and it is the only thing that will do it;" an opinion in which I fully concur: and were the experiment once rightly made by every commander in our service, I am fully persuaded the same sentiment would universally prevail.

No class of men are more open to convictions of truth than seamen, and none more susceptible of religious impressions except where the demon of intemprance has incased the soul with adamant, and

"Hardens all within."

I find no difficulty in gaining access to their confidence; and, in several instances, have met with interested and deep feeling. On a sabbath evening, not long since, while walking the main deck, I perceived an open-hearted young fellow, with whom I had formed some acquaintance, leaning against a gun; and going up to him, said, "Well J

how

has the day gone with you?" "One of the happiest I ever knew, sir,” was his reply; "and I have heard many of the crew say the same. I never expected such a sabbath at sea-earth can scarce know a better." Adding, on further conversation, "When I had been on board the Guerriere several weeks, before you, sir, joined us, without any public worship, I began to fear I had made a bad choice in coming to this ship; but I was mistaken-this will be a happy voyage to me, and I believe the time will yet come when the ship herself will be called the happy Guerriere!" His face beamed with pleasure as he spoke, and I rejoiced to meet one so warm-hearted and seemingly pious.

I almost daily meet with those more or less interested on the subject. Only a short time ago, while visiting the sick, I observed a middle-aged man following me from cot to cot, but said nothing to him, supposing him an attendant engaged in some duty. At length he himself spoke, saying, "There is no comfort for these poor fellows, sir, but in the few words you may drop them," adding, while the tears started in his eyes, and his, lips faltered as he placed his hand upon his heart, "they are poor sinners, sir! and I too am a poor sinner-guilty-miserable sinner, sir! and God in mercy has sent you to preach the gospel to us. I know well what it is to be weary and heavy laden with sin, and rejoiced from the first moment I saw you, sir, step upon our quarter-deck." On conversing more fully with him, I had reason to believe that he was sincerely disposed to learn of Him

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who "is meek and lowly in heart, and whose yoke is easy, and his burden light."

In an adjoining hammock lay a young man slightly ill, and to whom I had the day before given two or three tracts. On asking him how he did, he hid his face in the pillow, and it was some moments before he recovered sufficient composure to say, "For once, at least, in my life, sir, my hard heart has been touched one of the tracts you gave me, that of Charles Grafton, melted my very soul! My parents, too, tried to bring me up in the right way; but I have neglected and forgotten all their advice. It is now six years since I have been near them, and they know nothing of me nor where I am." In a long conversation, I endeavored to persuade him of his ingratitude to God his heavenly Father as well as towards his earthly parents; and left him with the resolution of the prodigal on his lips-if not in his heart.

The more impressive and melancholy dispensations of Providence have not been wanting to add their influence to that of the means of grace, in inclining our minds to thoughts of seriousness and piety. Within the last two days, I have been called twice to perform the saddest office incident to my station, by committing to the deep that which shall be retained in its dark caverns till "the sea shall give up its dead."

A funeral is a melancholy and impressive service any where, but particularly so at sea, and on board a man-of-war. There is something more deeply thrilling in the call of the boatswain, "All hands, to bury VOL. I.

4

the dead," as it passes through the ship-echoed from deck to deck by his mates-than even in the admonitory sounds of the bell of death on shore. And as for the first time in obedience to it I ascended the companion-ladder, and passed through the opening crowd to the side of the ship, where in the sad preparations of the grave lay the form of one who at that hour the day previous had little thought of being then in eternity-I could scarce command my voice, in giving utterance to the sublime declaration of the burial service, "I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord." The pause too preceding the words " we commit his body to the deep," and then the plunge and plash of the lifeless clay, as it is lanched to its watery tomb, speak in a voice more deeply touching than that sent back by the clod of the valley from the narrow house, when dust returns to dust, and ashes to ashes!" in the seemingly more natural cemetery within the churchyard limits.

The person buried, was a young man of the marines. He had been ill for a fortnight, but was at no time thought dangerous, and for the last few days was considered convalescent. I first conversed with him upon the subject of religion ten days ago. In reply to the question, whether he had ever thought seriously of the destiny of the soul, his only answer— and one which he seemed to think abundantly sufficient, as his black eyes filled with tears—was, "I had a pious mother!" I have seen him daily since, and though confessedly far from God, he appeared persuaded to cast himself in penitence upon his mercy, and hereafter to lead a virtuous life. Poor fellow!