'Homes' for them. We hope to get up a Home' at Havre, and, if your Society will assist us, to appoint a missionary to visit several small ports in France."

Such are the projects as well as the present actual position of the American Society.

These extracts are given partly to stimulate our friends to a more liberal support of our Society, that its Directors may, with safety, strike out new paths of usefulness, and keep pace with their American coadjutors in this glorious work.

In London the prospects of the sailors' cause are cheering. Our Church of England friends are not inactive. They have fitted up a vessel given them by government as a Sailor's Church, and which moving from Blackwall to Gravesend invites them to worship, and thus provides for them the means of religious instruction when unable or disinclined to go on shore. On Monday, May 11th, the foundation stone of a Seaman's Church in the vicinity of the London Docks was laid by His Royal Highness Prince Albert, when the Bishop of London conducted the religious service, and several of the nobility were present to support the Prince, and to show their sympathy with the object. Our Wesleyan friends have engaged in the same work, and through the agency of a missionary and a chaplain are seeking the religious improvement of these men. In addition to these and other efforts, it is a circumstance that demands our gratitude, that our own Society is disencumbered of debt, and that with increasing claims upon us, we have greater resources at command. We hope to report to our friends the extension of our operations, and look with confidence to those steady supporters of the cause, who, amidst the difficulties of the Society, have adhered faithfully to its interests, and who will not abandon it now that a career of extending usefulness is opening upon it.

These observations are made not in the spirit of vain dependance upon mere human instrumentality. How powerless the wisest schemes and best-adapted agency will prove without the influence that cometh from above! How important a place does prayer hold in connexion with all the efforts of the Church of God. For an interest in the intercessions of the church we are as deeply and unfeignedly anxious as for a larger share of its liberal pecuniary support.

To these remarks are appended the closing paragraphs of the speech of our friend, the Rev. T. Dodd, at our annual meeting.

"But whilst we invite you to co-operate in ameliorating the condition of seamen, let all landsmen see to it that they are not neglecting their own eternal welfare. A preceding speaker has compared the Church of Christ to the crew on board the ark of Noah, and with it let me earnestly direct all present to join.

"Enter on board the gospel ark
With Christ the captain, and embark,
And sail for Zion's coast;

Fear not while under his command

For seas, or wind, or storms, or sand;
Your soul can ne'er be lost.

Come then, my shipmates, come on board,
Invited by your Friend, the Lord,

To live in joy and rest;

Now bid this sinful world adieu,

And join this happy Christian crew,

And be for ever blest.'"

PRAYER AT THE MAST-HEAD.

A sailor, recently returned from a whaling voyage, and in conversation with a pious friend, spoke of the enjoyment which he had in prayer while afar off on the deep. "But," inquired his friend, "in the midst of the confusion on shipboard, where could you find a place to pray?"

"Oh," said he, "I always went to the mast-head."

I have heard of closets in various places, but never in one more singular than this. Peter went upon the house-top to pray. Our blessed Lord prayed upon the mountain-top. Others have sought the shades of the forest. I remember hearing of a youth who came home from the camp during the last war; and his pious mother asked him, "Where, John, could you find a place to pray!" He answered, "Where there is a heart to pray, mother, it is easy to find a place.'

And yet the sailor's closet was a favoured spot. The ear of man could not hear him, as he cried mightily unto God. The gales that wafted his ship on its voyage, would bear his petitions upwards towards the throne. "The voice of many waters would be the music of his sanctuary, and the angels that had charge concerning him would listen to the swelling song.' As he lifted up his heart and his voice in prayer, he was surrounded with the majesty and glory of his Maker. The "deep, deep sea," spread its illimitable expanse around him. The heavens spread out like the curtains of Jehovah's chamber, and the stars, like the jewels that adorn His crown, hung over him as he climbed the giddy mast, and bowed down to pray. Perhaps he had little imagination, and entered not into the grandeur of the scene around him. But he had a soul; a soul that felt the power of God: that loved high and holy communion with the Father of spirits; and while others below were rioting in the mirth of a sailor's jovial life, his joy was literally-to rise above the world and find intercourse with heaven.

What peace must have filled that sailor's heart! The storms might "rudely toss his foundering bark," but they could not shake his confidence in God. The ocean might yawn beneath him to swallow him in its fathomless depth; but he was sheltered in the bosom of his Father's love. The frail bark might be driven at the mercy of the winds, or be dashed on the rocks, or stranded on the shore, but he had a hope that was an ANCHOR to the soul, both sure and steadfast, entering into that within the veil. Through the thickest darkness that enveloped him, the "star of Bethlehem," shed its celestial loveliness over his path in the trackless deep, and guided him onward and upward to the haven of his eternal rest. Thitherward from the mast-head he strained his eye, and true as the needle to the pole, he pursued his way: when tempted, he sought the mast-head to pray; when in despondency, at the mast-head he found joy; when the taunts of his profane companions filled his ear with pain and his soul with grief, he fled to the mast-head, and poured out the desires of his heart into the ear of Him who hears the humble supplicants that cry.

The ocean surrounds the earth on all sides, and penetrates into the interior parts of different countries, sometimes by large openings, and frequently by small straits. Could the eye take in this immense sheet of waters at one view, it would appear the most august object under the whole heavens. It occupies a space on the surface of the globe at least three times greater than that occupied by the land-comprehending an extent of one hundred and forty-eight millions of square miles. Though the ocean, strictly speaking, is but one immense body of waters, extending in different directions, yet different names have been appropriated to different portions of its surface. That portion of its waters which rolls between the western coast of America and the eastern shores of Asia is called the Pacific Ocean; that portion which separates Europe and Africa from America, the Atlantic Ocean: other portions are termed the Northern, Southern, and Indian Oceans. When its waters penetrate into the land, they form what are called gulfs and mediterranean seas. But, without following it through all its windings and divisions, I shall simply state a few general facts.

With regard to the depth of this body of water, no certain conclusions have yet been formed. Beyond a certain depth, it has hitherto been found unfathomable. We know, in general, that the depth of the sea increases gradually as we leave the shore; but we have reason to believe that this increase of depth continues only to a certain distance. The numerous islands scattered everywhere through the ocean demonstrate that the bottom of the waters, so far from uniformly sinking, sometimes rises into lofty mountains. It is highly probable that the depth of the sea is somewhat in proportion to the elevation of the land; for there is some reason to conclude that the present bed of the oceán formed the inhabited part of the ancient world previous to the general deluge, and that we are now occupying the bed of the former ocean; and, if so, its greatest depth will not exceed four or five miles, for there is no mountain rises higher above the level of the sea. But the sea has never been actually sounded to a greater depth than a mile and sixty-six feet. Along the coast its depth has always been found proportioned to the height of the shore. Where the coast is high and mountainous, the sea that washes it is deep; but where the coast is low,

the water is shallow. To calculate the quantity of water it contains, we must therefore suppose a medium depth: if we reckon its average depth at two miles, it will contain two hundred and ninety-six millions of (cubical) miles of water. We shall have a more specific idea of this enormous mass of water, if we consider that it is sufficient to cover the whole globe to the height of more than eight thousand feet; and if this water were reduced to one spherical mass, it would form a globe of more than eight hundred miles in diameter.

With regard to its bottom, as the sea covers so great a portion of the globe, we should, no doubt, by exploring its interior recesses, discover a vast number of interesting objects. So far as the bed of the ocean has been explored, it is found to bear a great resemblance to the surface of the dry land; being, like it, full of plains, caverns, rocks, and mountains, some of which are abrupt and almost perpendicular, while others rise with a gentle acclivity, and sometimes tower above the water and form islands. The materials, too, which compose the bottom of the sea are the same which form the basis of the dry land. It also resembles the land in another remarkable particular: many fresh springs and even rivers rise out of it; an instance of which occurs near Goa, on the western coast of Hindostan, and in the Mediterranean Sea, not far from Marseilles. The sea sometimes assumes different colours: the materials which compose its bottom cause it to reflect different hues in different places; and its appearance is also affected by the winds and by the sun, while the clouds that pass over it communicate all their varied and fleeting colours. When the sun shines, it is green; when he gleams through a fog, it is yellow; when near the poles, it is black; while in the torrid zone, its colour is often brown; and on certain occasions it assumes a luminous appearance, as if sparkling with fire.

The ocean has three kinds of motions. The first is that undulation which is produced by the wind, and which is entirely confined to its surface. It is now ascertained that this motion can be destroyed, and its surface rendered smooth, by throwing oil upon its waves. The second motion is that continual tendency which the whole water in the sea has towards the west, which is greater near the equator than towards the poles. It begins on the west side of America, where it is moderate; but as the waters advance westward their motion is accelerated, and, after having traversed the globe, they return and strike with great violence on the eastern shore of America. Being stopped by that continent, they rush with impetuosity into the Gulf of Mexico; thence they proceed along the coast of North America, till they come to the south side of the great bank of Newfoundland, when they turn off and run down through the Western Isles. This motion is most probably owing to the diurnal revolution of The the earth on its axis, which is in a direction contrary to the motion of the sea. third motion of the sea is the tide, which is a regular swell of the ocean every twelve and a half hours. This motion is now ascertained to be owing to the attractive influence of the moon, and also partly to that of the sun. There is always a flux and a reflux at the same time, in two parts of the globe, and these are opposite to each other; so that when our antipodes have high water, we have the same. When the attractive powers of the sun and moon act in the same direction, which happens at the time of new and full moon, we have the highest spring tides; but when their attraction is opposed to each other, which happens at the quarters, we have the lowest or neap tides.

Such is the ocean - a most stupendous scene of Omnipotence-which forms the most magnificent feature of the globe we inhabit. When we stand on the sea-shore,

SOME PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A NAVAL OFFICER.

131: and cast our eyes over the expanse of its waters, till the sky and the waves seem to mingle, all that the eye can take in at one survey is but an inconsiderable speck---less than the hundred-thousandth part of the whole of this vast abyss. If every drop of water can be divided into twenty-six millions of distinct parts, as some philosophers have demonstrated, what an immense assemblage of watery particles must be contained in the unfathomable caverns of the ocean! Here the powers of calculation are completely set at defiance, and an image of infinity, immensity, and endless duration is presented to the mind. This mighty expanse of waters is the grand reservoir of Nature, and the source of evaporation which enriches the earth with fertility and verdure. Every cloud which floats in the atmosphere, and every fountain, and rivulet, and flowing stream, are indebted to this inexhaustible source for those watery treasures which they distribute through every region of the land. In fine, whether we consider the ocean as rearing its tremendous billows in the midst of the tempest, or as stretched out into a smooth expanse; whether we consider its immeasurable extent, its mighty movements, or the innumerable beings which glide through its rolling waves, we cannot but be struck with astonishment at the grandeur of that Omnipotent Being who holds its waters "in the hollow of his hand," and who has said to its foaming surges," Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.”—Dick.

SOME PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A NAVAL OFFICER.

(Continued from Page 88.)

At day-light the following morning, the shattered frame of the launch was seen from the ship thrown up high and dry under the cliff, and the prevalent idea was that the traitors had perished.

The boats were lowered as soon as it was safe to approach the shore, and despatched to ascertain their fate; and it was not until a lengthened search along shore that they were discovered crouched beneath the projection of a shelving rock, endeavouring to hide themselves from their pursuers. With a shout of satisfaction they were seized by the boat's crew, and conveyed to the ship.

As they approached the ship, the gangway was crowded to witness the return of the wretched beings who had placed their lives in jeopardy, and had so deeply offended against the laws of that country into whose service they had enlisted. Pale, haggard, suffering excessively from cold and hunger, and thoroughly drenched in the surges from which they had so narrowly escaped, they ascended to the quarter-deck. The captain and his officers were present to receive them; overwhelmed with shame they answered the few questions put to them, and then, assailed by the groans of the ship's company, they were conducted by the master-at-arms and ship's corporal to the cock-pit, their legs were shackled to an iron bar, and with an armed sentry over them, they were left to their own thoughts.

Theirs was a dreadful situation; for melancholy reflections and bitter forebodings filled up their mind and time, and they had nothing to do but to think of the past