it in the Life-boat; while neither could they grasp at the promised help near enough to reach it; nor hold on with sufficient strength to be drawn aboard, if they had. Their attention and power was divided between incompatible objects; and they were too distrustful of the sufficiency of Him who had come to seek and to save them, to give up the wretched rubbish which they had hugged so long. (1.)

Some, being much entangled in coils of rigging pertaining to the ship, pretended that they did not know how to take hold of the cords of love presented to them. They were very willing, if they only knew how. But it was so mysterious how motives could influence the will! and how the will could control the hands! To be sure, they could take hold of anything else; which made it evident that the mystery in the case was nothing more than their invincible unwillingness to touch the ropes, and fall in with the terms of deliverance. They would not be persuaded that what is hard in metaphysics may be extremely easy in practice. Encumbered with such ballast, no wonder that their efforts slowly ceased, and they sank far-far beneath their depth, to ascend no more.

Some did not scruple to make no effort to escape, because they were not to blame for their perilous situation. They were very ingenious in shifting off the fault upon the old Pirate, or upon the first helmsman, or even upon the helmsman's wife, with whom it appears that the old Pirate had tampered, or even on some inexplicable plan which they conceived might have led the Builder to contrive the shipwreck. Now, admitting that they could charge some other being as the cause of their ruin, rather than themselves, that was reason why they should take no pains to escape, when means were presented; and it was the summit of folly and ingratitude not to do so, when the kindness of others had done and endured so much for their

rescue.

There were not a few, who stretched themselves on their backs on large planks, and could think of no better reason for refusing to work out their own salvation from the death which was creeping over them, than fatalism. Their language was, 'If I am to be drowned, I shall be: if I am to be sheltered in the Life-boat, I shall be: so that my exertion will do no manner of good.' Only think of a drowning man talking thus to those who would aid him to escape! Surely madness is in the heart of all who apply such principles to any emergency whatever.

(1.) See our Lord's conversation with the rich young man. Mark 10: 17-22.

O how many of the mutineers would give no heed to the pleadings from the Life-boat, but remained utterly unconcerned while the most rousing and affecting appeals were sounding in their ears. Yet at the last, when on the very point of sinking forever, they would come to their senses only to lose them again with affright. How desperately they struggled! How they shrieked for the Life-boat to put about! How franticly they baffled all attempts to save them! Before relief could reach them, they would spring convulsively half out of water, and go down again, tossing their hands with a heart-piercing scream, the waves rushing over them, and bubbling with the gurgling breath of their drowning agony.

As if the mutineers were not already infatuated enough, the old Pirate contrived to keep them in his service by fitting out vessels of the same rig as the Glad Tidings. His decoys, though made to imitate their pattern in some respects, were always marked by some glaring discrepancies. Thus one of the first he sent out, was quite filled up with images, paintings, relics, &c. in which all who came on board must put their trust as the talismans of their safety: the conversation was carried on by signs, and by reading a gibberish of dead languages, which scarce any of them understood; while they pretended to pick up the perishing on wooden cross-trees, and to draw them up with long strings of beads, and other such mummeries. The people in this piratical craft delighted to vex those who were in the true Life-boat, and manifested a very cruel disposition toward them.

Others of these decoys cruised about among the floating mu tineers; the hands on board crying, 'Peace, peace,' when there was no peace. It is surprising with what impudence they pretended to be the real original Life-boat; and it is surprising with what readiness multitudes were deceived by them. But there was not one of them which had on board the necessary supplies, or which was able to weather a serious gale. Besides, they were constructed with false bottoms, through which the unsuspecting voyagers dropped into the deep, from whence some of them rose to the surface just long enough to discover their misery and warn others to beware.

There were some instances of very gross delusion. These were persons so blinded, as to suppose that they were actually secured in the Life-boat, when they were still buffeting the waves. They sported themselves with their own deceivings, while on the brink of a watery grave, nor awoke from their dream to the last.

The people who manned the Glad Tidings most earnestly and patiently sought to save all they could. They were casting ropes and drawing nets incessantly, on which account they were called 'fishers of men.'

Under the direction, and with the indispensable aid of their faithful Captain, their labor was not in vain. And O how blest they were, when some poor soul, weary of his fruitless strife, ceasing from all dependence on himself, despairing of help from any other quarter, bewailing his rebellion, overcome with gratitude, and extolling his great Deliverer, was drawn into the Life-boat. Over him they rejoiced more than over ninety and nine who had never fallen over board. They could not refrain from giving three cheers; or, in their dialect, Amen! Hosanna! Alleluia! But who shall describe the emotions of him who was as good as dead, and is alive again; who was lost, and is found? Who shall tell the emotions of the Builder's Son, while seeing the reward of his toils, and the desire of his heart fulfilled?

THE PASTOR'S MORNING WALK.

Mr. Jones was the Pastor of a Church in a small country village. In its seclusion but little bustle of business was known, and each individual was consequently much interested in the concerns of every other individual of the Parish. The Pastor and his family were the prominent objects of scrutiny, and all felt at liberty not only to make his public exercises, but his domestic arrangements, the subject of free remark. This was done not from unfriendly feeling, for he was much beloved by his people. But in the absence of other engrossing topics of common interest, the movements of the Pastor and his family became of primary importance.

One pleasant morning in the month of April, Mr. Jones took his cane and set off to visit, as was his custom, the families of his charge. He first entered the house of a humble family, the mother of which was a member of his church, but the father was an irreligious man, and but seldom seen at public worship on the Sabbath. He had conversed but a few minutes with this pious mother, before her husband entered, and with the well meaning, but blunt and careless air of a reckless man, addressed him.

"Good morning, good morning sir-happy to see you. I had the pleasure of hearing you preach yesterday afternoon Sir."

"Yes! I observed that you were at church and was pleased to see it."

Well, Mr. Jones, I am a plain man and you must excuse me if am I pretty honest in my way of talking. But if you always preached as you did yesterday, I should go to meeting oftener. You preached without notes yesterday and that is what I call preaching. When a man goes up into his pulpit, and reads off a sermon - why I may just as well stay at home and read a sermon out of a book. If you would always preach without notes, I should almost always go to meeting."

"I think myself," said Mr. Jones, that extempore preaching is on many accounts preferable to written sermons, but still, extempore preaching will not suit all. I should be perfectly willing to preach without notes all the time, if I thought it would be equally profitable to all my people."

"Well," said the man, laughing, "if you will let me know when you are going to preach without notes, I will always

come and hear you. But it is against my religion to go and hear men read instead of preach."

After a little further conversation, Mr. Jones bade them good morning, and continued his walk. Though the man had addressed him in rude style, he knew there was no intentional disrespect, and was too much accustomed to such rencounters, to allow his feelings to be much disturbed. Yet he could not help mourning over the strength and unreasonableness of men's prejudices.

The next door he knocked at, was that of a Lawyer who was telling every one by his conduct that he had a most profound respect for himself. In self respect he went to church upon the Sabbath. In self respect he attentively listened to the preacher. In self respect he bowed, in dignified courtesy, to his more humble neighbors. He did many things which were honorable and of good report, not because he feared God, but because he respected himself.

A little girl opened the door, and ushering Mr. Jones into the parlor, then went to the wing of the house, which contained the office of the Lawyer, to inform him that the Clergyman had called.

"Good morning, Mr. Jones," said this respectful gentleman, in slow and courteous accents, "I am happy to see you this morning, and to have an opportunity of telling you how much we were gratified with your forenoon sermon yesterday, (placing special accent on the word forenoon.) "I trust you will not think Mr. Jones, that I intend to flatter you, when I say that your forenoon sermon, was an admirably written discourse. That is the kind of preaching Mr. Jones, which elevates the people; it improves their minds, it cultivates their taste. discourse well digested and carefully written, is substantial food to the mind. You will pardon me Mr. Jones for making the remark, but I think that Clergymen generally if they have not time to write out two sermons a week, had better exchange a little more frequently, so that they never will be under the necessity of preaching extempore."

A

Mr. Jones was a man of acute sensibilities. He felt such remarks, but under the tuition of his Saviour, he had learned self-control. Natural feeling recoiled from the insult of such supercilious remarks. He however was sufficiently acquainted with human nature to know the folly of arguing with such a mind, and therefore quietly endeavored to wave the subject, to drop a few remarks in behalf of his Saviour,—and bidding the