s ■ THE SEA-SIDE A SERIES OF SHORT ESSAYS AND POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, SUGGESTED BY A TEMPORARY RESIDENCE Catering pace. BY THE REV. JOHN EAST, A. M. 1 1 LECTURER OF ST. PHILIP'S, AND CURATE OF ST. JAMES'S, BRISTOL. $ufcUsI)rtf be W. RICHARDSON, CLARE STREET, BRISTOL; AND HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. MDCCCXXVII. *\ Jjs) h FULLER, PRINTER, BRI6T0L. PREFACE. A Volume, on the subjects treated of in that which is here presented to the public, has appeared to the Author to be particularly desirable for the use of the many, who either annually or occasionally resort to the Watering-places of our coast for health or pleasure. How far he has supplied the desideratum, he must leave to the judgment of others. He cannot, however, refrain from the expression of a wish, unavailing as it may be, that he had possessed leisure and ability to render his production more worthy of acceptance by - IV PREFACE. the religious public. He has done what he could. To shine is not his object. It will satisfy him if he may be useful. While, therefore, he diffidently offers the Volume to his companions in the pilgrimage of life, he, at the same time, humbly commends it to the favour and blessing of their common Saviour. The Author has adopted the form of a Jpartial narrative, in the arrangement of his materials, with a view of imparting to the whole somewhat more of interest than might have been taken in an immethodical collection, or in a continuous series of compositions. Bristol, May 23, 1827. CONTENTS Pages. Chap. I. — Introduction. The plan proposed 1 — 5 Chap. II. — A First View of the Sea. Reflections on Eternity 6—12 Chap. III. — Creation of the Sea. Lord Byron on the Ocean. H. Moore, on Divine Love IS — 28 Chap. IV. — Monody written on the Sea Shore ....... 29 — 35 Chap. V. — Lines on " The Sea is His, and He made it." 36—38 Chap. VI. — Sabbath Eve at a Watering Place. Pre- paration for the Sabbath 39 — 45 Chap. VII.-— Sabbath by the Sea. Visit to the House of God. Sermon on Psalm civ. 1, 2, 3 46—72 Chap. VIII.— The Sea-side Tomb. Country Church. Elegy „ 75— 79, Chap. IX. — Excursion to an Island. The Uses of the Sea 80—98, b VI CONTENTS. Pages. Chap. X. — The Inhabitants of the Sea. Falconer on the Dying Dolphin. Fisheries. Reflections on Christ's Selection of his Apostles 99 — 113 Chap. XI.— The Flood. The Mosaic Record. lines from Montgomery. Geological Proofs of a Universal Deluge. The Backslider 114 — 135 Chap. XII. — Irad, or the Last Antediluvian, a Poem 136 — 140 Chap. XIII.— The Ark. Noah's Character. His Preservation. The Ark a Type of Christ 141—155 Chap. XIV.— The Invalid 156—164 Chap. XV.— The Sea of Atonement. Reflections on the Atonement of Christ .......... 165 — 172 Chap. XVI. — The Cruise. Progress of Navigation. Invention of the Mariner's Com- pass. Discovery of America. Columbus. Rise and Fall of Ma- ritime Nations. 173 — 198 Chap. XVII. — The Slave Ship. Lines from Grahame. The Slave Trade. Sentiments of Pitt and Fox. Cowper's Morning Dream 199—229 Chap. XVIII. — The Missionary Voyage, a Poem. Moravian Missionaries. Lines from Montgomery 230 — 242 Chap. XIX. — Restraint upon the Sea. Canute 243—251 Chap. XX. — The Shipwreck. Discourse upon the Shipwreck of St. Paul 252—272 Chap. XXL— The Sea-side Hamlet. A short Narrative 27S—279. Chap. XXII. — Hope the Soul's Anchor. Sabbath Evening. Hymn on Hope. Re- marks on Heb vi. 17. 20. Hymn 280—290 CONTENTS. Vll Pages. CHAr. XXIIL— The Depths Congealed. Passage of Israel through the lied Sea. Lines from Rolleston. Dr. Watts's Hymn on God's Dominion over the Sea 291—307 Chap. XXIV.— The Sea Pilgrim, an Allegory. Cow- per's Castaway, and Lines to the Rev. J. Newton, on his return from Ramsgate 308—321 Chap. XXV. — The Sands. Uses of Sand. Deserts. Imagery borrowed from the Sands. Newton's Thought on the Sea- shore. The Rock, a Poem 322—334 Chap. XXVI. — Bathing. Salubrious Qualities of Sea- water. Address to Invalids. Lines 335 — 346 Chap. XXVII. — The Latter Day. Remarks on Mis- sionary Institutions. Comment on Hab. ii. 14. Thoughts on Psalm lxxii. 8. Verses on Psalm xcvi v ll. Reflection on Rev. xix. 6. Re- marks on Isa. xi. 11. Verses on Isa. xlii. 10. Comments on Isa. lx. 5 ; on Dan. vii. 2 ; and on Luke xxi. 25. Lines on Gen. i. 2 347 — 366 Chap. XXVIII.— The Cavern. Visit to a Subterrane- ous Cavity. Remarks on Psalm xcv. 4 , . . . . 367—375 Chap. XXIX — The Storm. Scripture Imagery 374 — 387 Chap. XXX. — Jesus on the Sea. Verses 388 — 390 Chap. XXXI. — Evening. Beauty of Autumnal Even- ings by the Sea. Verses 391 — S97 Chap. XXXII.— The Depths of Providence. Sunday Evening. Exposition of Psalm xxxvi. 6. Hymn 398—410 Vlll CONTEXTS. Pages. Chap. XXXIII.— A Last View of the Sea. Return home. Lord Byron. Genius. Dr. Johnson's Remarks on the Last. Lines on — There was no more Sea 411—416 "Erratum. Page 78, line 3, for /orm'd, rend fann'd. THE SEA-SIDE. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. " A plan has occurred to me," said the Rev. W. Hamilton to his family and a select circle of friends, " which may conduce both to the pleasure and the benefit we expect to derive from our visit to the sea-coast. We shall, I hope, often meet together, and enjoy the sacred intercourse of Christian friendship — an intercourse, which, while it may embrace all the urbanity and refinement of polished society, is conducted upon principles widely differing from those that constitute the basis of worldly associations, and has a freedom and a tact peculiarly its own. In the midst of scenes like these, our thoughts and our conver- sation will naturally take a colouring reflected from surrounding objects. I wish that we should avail ourselves of the advantages hence arising to * INTRODUCTION. us, for illustrating and impressing more deeply on our minds many subjects of high and delightful interest. ' There are animals/ says Dr. Johnson, ' that borrow their colour from the neighbouring body, and consequently vary their hue as they happen to change their place. In like manner it ought to be the endeavour of every man to derive his reflections from the objects about him ; for it is to no purpose that he alters his position, if his attention continues fixed to the same point. The mind should be kept open to the access of every new idea, and so far disengaged from the pre- dominance of particular thoughts, as easily to accommodate itself to occasional entertainment/ My scheme is simply this : that each of our party should employ a part of the time daily assigned to mental improvement, in writing familiar papers, or essays, on scriptural topics, suggested by the scenery before us. These, if you approve my plan, shall be read by the writers in our social parties, like the present. No criticism shall be allowed, that no painful feelings may be excited ; and even approbation shall be most sparingly, if at all ex- pressed, that there may arise no incentives for the encouragement of other emotions, still more to be avoided than the former. The materials may be gathered from the stores of memory, experience, observation, or reading. I wish for no display of authorship, much less for any thing bordering on INTRODUCTION. 6 literary rivalry. Let a desire to communicate and receive benefit predominate over every other con- sideration. We are to be left to our own choice of subjects and style, of which our various tastes and the ample number of topics will give an oppor- tunity for sufficient diversity. I will cheerfully contribute my own quota, as an encouragement for you readily to gratify me with yours. I perceive a smile upon your countenances. Speak your sentiments upon my proposal with frank- ness." " Father," answered Pascal, the Vicar's eldest son, " neither my sisters nor myself ought to hesitate for a moment at complying with the wishes of a parent, whose kindness and affection have ever rendered obedience as pleasant to his children as it is obligatory. I am fully persuaded of the forbearance, and even partiality, which you will show towards the productions of our youthful pens. For my own part, I will with delight furnish an occasional paper. It will cost me, indeed, something to read my humble lucubrations ; but I shall look for my recompense in listening to the papers of others." " Like all my father's schemes," said Louisa, " this is inviting and useful. I could almost wish, however, that he had exempted his poor girls from the task he has so kindly proposed. At least I may answer for myself, that little is to be ex- NTRODUCTION. pected from my scanty stores. But I am confident that he will implore a divine blessing upon the plan, and upon those who are to bear a part in its execution. This encourages me to pledge my endeavours to furnish my portion of papers." " My dear sister," added Julia, " you might with more propriety have answered for me, as to the slight expectations that are to be formed upon the poverty of my resources. The youngest and the least experienced might well be left in the seat of a listener. But I too implicitly regard papa's desires to be reluctant to please him." '"' And why Julia," said Theophilus, " did you not contrive some kind excuse for me. Though I am something your senior in age, you know that I am behind you in attainments, and that my pen is wont to be both slow and dull. Yet would it ill become me, father, to hold back, when my brother and sisters have so cheerfully promised compliance with your wishes. I will do my best. But what does my mother say to the scheme ? I hope that she will not plead her domestic engage- ments against her taking part with us." " My dear Theophilus," answered Mrs. Hamil- ton, " I might appoint you the interpreter of my thoughts. Such a plea as you have suggested, has several times almost escaped my lips, and its validity you cannot deny. The hope that its force had its proper influence upon you all, has kept me INTRODUCTION. 6 silent during your conversation. As, however, I am appealed to in a manner, which seems to insure me all due allowances, I will not damp the pleasure you anticipate from our union in so proper and advantageous a contrivance, for giving a novel interest to our season of recreation, and for render- ing it subservient to the great ends we ought ever to keep in view, the glory of our God and Saviour, and our own spiritual improvement." " But we do not yet know," resumed the Vicar, " what is passing in the minds of our friends. I hope that they will not hesitate to favour us with their co-operation." Mr. Willoughby, with his daughter and two sons, cheerfully acceded to the proposal, and the only remaining difficulty was to fix upon the individual who should take the lead, and produce the introductory paper. This difficulty, however, was speedily removed by Miss Willoughby's re- marking, that as Mr. Pascal Hamilton had been the first volunteer in the business, after it was suggested by his father, and had recently com- pleted his first academical year at the University, the party might reasonably expect, that he should make a commencement. This point having been amicably settled, it was agreed that the two families should meet again at the house occupied by Mr. Willoughby, on the ensuing Thursday evening. CHAPTER II. A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. The Hamiltons joined their friends on the appointed evening. The drawing room windows commanded a very extensive semi-panorama, bounded on the north and south by long ranges of cliffs and mountains, and on the west by the swelling ocean and the bending sky. The twi- light, however, had retired to the northern part of the horizon, and, though it threw into bold prominence the dark blue outline of the moun- tains, left the rest of the prospect but dimly visible. When the candles had been lighted, and the ladies had taken up their useful employments, Mr. Willoughby requested Pascal to redeem the pledge he had given his friends. A smile of satisfaction, at their commencement of this new and agreeable mode of occupying a social evening, glowed upon every countenance, and A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. / Pascal proceeded to read aloud his paper, which he had entitled A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. " We were giving a final and admiring glance to the rich inland scenery, that slowly receded from our sight, as we leisurely ascended a lofty acclivity, when the sudden stopping of the carriage an- nounced our arrival at the summit. We instan- taneously turned towards the scene, which in a moment burst upon our view. ' The sea ! — the sea ! ' — was the exclamation that immediately broke from our lips, which then immediately closed in a silence, that shrunk from the good-humoured, but unwel- come garrulity of our post-boy. Our eyes rapidly traversed the undulating country that lay beneath us, varied with woods, corn-fields, and meadows ; studded with towns, hamlets, and villas ; and in- tersected by numerous streams, meeting in one majestic river, upon whose calm and ample tide the sight glided onward to the distant ocean. There our minds reposed, as apparently did its waters, in silent tranquillity broken only by the resumed progress of the carriage. I observed that the waters were apparently at rest, for so they would seem to a spectator at some distance, whe- ther they were actually calm or tempestuous : and I have often made a similar remark when survey- ing an extensive prospect, in our admiration of 8 A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. which, we lose sight of, or are reluctant to con- sider, the probable sorrows and passions, which, beneath that calm and attractive exterior, are agitating the unseen population of its cities and villages, its palaces and cottages. " We now gave utterance to some of the emotions, which in quick succession had been awakened in our minds. It was but a remote and partial view we had caught of the sea, and our rapid descent soon concealed it again : but it had been enough to communicate to us a measure of the delight felt by all, when for the first time, or after a temporary- absence, they behold - the great and wide sea.' Xenophon and his brave companions in arms recurred to my mind, and I enjoyed the recollec- tion of their enthusiasm, when, towards the close of their celebrated retreat, they reached the heights overlooking the Euxine, and, as one battalion after another gained the summit, joined in the general shout, ' The sea ! the sea ! ' Similar, too, were the feelings of Balboa, one of the earliest adventurers in America, on discovering the Pacific Ocean from the chain of mountains connecting the two conti- nents of the Western Hemisphere. ' When with infinite toil they had climbed up the greater part of that steep ascent, Balboa commanded his men to halt, and advanced alone to the summit, that he might be the first who should enjoy a spectacle he had so long desired. As soon as he beheld the A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. 9 South Sea stretching in endless prospect below him, he fell on his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, returned thanks to God, who had con- ducted him to a discovery so beneficial to his country, and so honourable to himself. His followers, observing his transports of joy, rushed forward to join in his wonder, exultation, and gratitude. They held on their course to the shore with great alacrity, when Balboa, advancing up to the middle in the waves, with his buckler and sword took possession of that ocean in the name of the king his master, and vowed to defend it with those arms against all his enemies/ 1 I could not, indeed, compare my feelings, as a traveller on pleasure, and in pursuit of health, either with theirs, who saw, reflected from the surface of the waters, a hope of deliverance and safety from pur- suing foes ; or with his, who in a moment built upon the newly-discovered wave the airy fabric of human glory. But I was conscious of pleasurable sensations, for which I was well satisfied to have travelled so far, and to increase them was well con- tent to travel farther. I had caught a glimpse of a new province of creation. Associations, gathered from books, from conversation, and from the graphic regions of the pencil, rushed in upon my thoughts, and I was somewhat impatient at the 1 Robertson's History of America, Book III. B 2 10 A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. time and distance still intervening between me and the optata arena — the wished-for shore. Is not this, I asked myself, like the glimpse I sometimes obtain of eternity — that boundless ocean, whose waters lave and enclose the insulated space of time? I have not wholly forgotten my strong emotions, when first my mental eye looked beyond the limits of present existence, and caught a view of eternity. From my childhood I had heard and read of that futurity, which is to be ever future, as I had heard and read of the mighty deep ; but my conceptions were faint and unimpressive. My first feelings, were therefore, for a season, over- powering, though my sight was dim and imperfect : and, as often as they are renewed, they leave upon my spirits a solemnity and awe, which, at the same time that it is divested of terror and alarm, super- induces, while it lasts, a comparative indifference to all intervening objects. It never was intended, and our very constitution and temporal circum- stances forbid, that our minds should be always engrossed with this stupendous prospect. It cannot be, that such impressions should be perma- nent and unyielding. But we may and ought to lament that they are so evanescent. They leave, it is true, their effects and influence behind ; and I trust it is our prayer, that these may become increasingly decisive in their character, and exten- sive in their prevalence. Yet, as travellers, who A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. 11 must shortly reach the shore, and launch upon the deep, we may wish that our earliest impressions of the vast concerns of an eternal scene should leave with us all their vividness and depth. Eter- nity ! Eternity ! — may we never lose sight of its momentous prospects and interests ! Even if these are not always the immediate subjects of our thoughts, may they exert a latent influence over our whole conduct ; give stability to our princi- ples ; moderate our earthly cares ; and add fervour to our search after "glory, honour, and immor- tality." We are rapidly traversing a country wherein we are strangers ; and our path is beset by numerous, powerful, and malignant foes. Let us connect with the thought of eternity, the joyful anticipation of a final escape from all the enemies of our souls. We are toil-worn travellers, crossing the narrow and rugged isthmus of time, which separates the eternity that is past, from the eternity that is to come. Let us exult at the near, and ever nearer view of the future ; for in that future — in that emphatically new world, the brightest visions of hope will be more than realized." " I think," said Mr. Willoughby, to his daughter, as Pascal laid down his paper, " that I saw a passage marked by your hand, in our Bard of the Night, consonant with these con- 12 A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA. eluding reflections of our young friend ; and, as we have not the book at hand, perhaps you will recite them." " You refer," answered Miss Willoughby, " I suppose, papa, to these lines" — And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust ? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm'd, At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought To waft a feather or to drown a fly. " You might have proceeded," resumed her father, " with the poet's self-application of his admonitory strain. But I know, my dear girl, you are not very fond of making long viva voce quotations." CHAPTER III. CREATION. On the following morning, the whole party, by previous agreement, met on a rocky part of the shore. It was a very retired spot, and had often been a favourite resort of the young Willoughbys in a former year. The sea appeared to have un- dermined its strong barrier, and immense masses had slipped in various directions upon the sloping substratum of the cliffs. Here, according to the hour of the day, the state of the weather, or the taste of the visitors, a situation sheltered or ex- posed, shaded or sunny, might be selected, where, in perfect security, they could watch the flowing and ebbing tides, and yield their minds to those soothing and fascinating emotions, which arise in the soul, and alternately merge each other in such a scene, like the everchanging billows. In these emotions the friends for a while indulged them- selves, standing upon the rocky margin of the waters, and admiring the endless variety of motion and form which they assumed. At length they 14 CREATION. seated themselves on different projections in a shady nook of the cliff, which overhung them ; and the ladies employed themselves in making small articles of clothing for the native children of a foreign mission school. " Miss Julia," said Mr. Willoughby to the Vicar, " informed my daughter, that you had anticipated your own interesting and improving scheme, by the preparation of several papers on some of the subjects proposed. May we therefore look to you, sir, for our present entertain- ment ? " " It is very true," answered his friend, " that I have a few humble attempts to turn to good account the days of relaxation we may spend here. One of these I now have with me, and I will most cheerfully comply with the request you have so kindly made. My paper is on the simple and beautiful sentiment, which daily recurs in our public morning service. " THE SEA IS HIS, AND HE MADE IT." " It has often delighted me to witness the interest in this grand object, manifested on the arrival of a family at a watering place. Amidst all the bustle consequent upon that arrival, and notwithstanding the many necessary cares to be attended to, in the selection of a suitable temporary abode, the first moments after reaching the sea-side, are commonly CREATION. 15 engrossed with the scene in view. Even in fixing upon a residence, many discomforts are overlooked or compromised, and much additional expense is readily incurred, to secure a prospect of the 'deep and dark blue ocean/ We go from window to window, from point to point, to vary or extend our field of contemplation, and we reluctantly close our first ramble on the beach, or withdraw from our post of observation, when the shades of night spread themselves around us. We admire, and, to some extent, feel the enthusiasm of the poet in his apostrophe to the ocean : — Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean — roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shiv'ring in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth :— there let him lay. 16 CREATION. The armaments, which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, chang'd in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they ? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, Calm or convuls'd — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving ; — boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. " Gratitude for the mercies attendant upon tra- velling, and for the means and opportunity of resorting to the sea-side, diffuses its happy in- CREATION. 17 fluence over the Christian's spirit at such a season : nor does it slightly affect him with thankfulness, if the great Giver of all mental endowments has bestowed on him a mind capable of discerning and enjoying the beauties of nature, or rather, the works of nature's God . He will, indeed, pity the character of the mere sentimentalist, whose feel- ings resemble the relaxed chords of a harp, which wildly vibrate at every touch : but he does not therefore indulge in himself the obtuse insen- sibility, which views every object, whether of grandeur or beauty, without emotion. His imagi- nation, fervid, yet chastised, aids his faith ; and his faith, limited by divine truth, circumscribes his imagination, though with a compass ample as the universe. The Christian contemplates nature with a new sense, and that sense is a divine faith, given him of God, which, at the same time that it sub- stantiates things hoped for, and convinces of things not seen, invests also visible realities with an attractiveness unknown and unfelt by the man of the world and the votary of pleasure. ' Through faith, we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear ;' and in our visits to the borders of the mighty deep, we shall do well to call our faith into frequent exercise on a point, whereon the saints of earlier days loved to dwell. Their recollections or contemplations of 18 CREATION. ' the great and wide sea' brought up before them the magnificent operations of Jehovah, when he issued his omnific word, and bade into existence the hosts of his creatures. Let us, with them, revert to the day, when ' the earth was without form, and void ; and darkness was upon the face of the deep ; and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters/ The unorganized mass had just emerged from nonentity, and lay in the view of its Creator ready to receive whatever forms his consummate wisdom might contrive, and his plastic hand might give. After light had followed the word that commanded its existence, and pro- vision had been made by an expanded atmosphere for the elevation of vapour and the suspension of clouds, * God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together into one place ; and it was so : and the gathering together of the waters call he seas. ' It has been often and well remarked, that in the simple fiat of creation there is a grandeur far exceeding all the pomp of language. ' He spake, and it was done. He COMMANDED, AND IT STOOD FAST.' The mind is held in mute astonishment on reverting to the day, which witnessed the separation, at the word of the Most High, of the confused materials of our globe into two grand divisions, leaving, however, to the gathered aqueous fluid the dominion of three fourths of the earth's surface, which in the act of CREATION. 19 separation was sunk into vast cavities of unequal depths, where, as in the hollow of his hand, Jehovah holds the waters, and ■ layeth up the deep in store-houses.' He moves that hand, and those waters rise in mountain billows, whose foaming crests seem to sweep the sky. He holds it still, and they repose in motionless tranquillity. The inspired Psalmist referred to the transactions of the third day of our world's annals, in thoughts worthy of the inspiration under which he wrote. ' Thou coveredst it (the earth) with the deep, as with a garment : the waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled : at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. They go up by the mountains ; they go down by the vallies, unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over, that they turn not again to cover the earth.' • The waters,' says Bishop Home, ' fled at the Almighty word, like the scattered remains of a routed army ; from the heights of mountains whither they had ascended, they sunk down into the vallies ; from the vallies they retired into the bed of the ocean, and a part of them descended from thence into the great deep thatlieth beneath.' The poet of creation has given us a paraphrase of Moses' and of David's words, in the supposed intercourse between Adam and 'Raphael, the affable Archangel.' 20 CREATION. when God said, c Be gathered now, ye waters, under heav'n Into one place, and let dry land appear.' Immediately the mountains huge appear Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky ; So high as heav'd the tumid hills, so low Sunk down a hollow bottom, broad and deep, Capacious bed of waters : thither they Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd As drops on dust conglobing from the dry ; Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, For haste ; such flight the grand command impress'd, On the swift floods. As armies at the call Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) Troop to their standard, so the wat'ry throng, Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, Soft ebbing ; nor withstood them rock or hill, But they, or under ground, or circuit wide With serpent error wand'ring, found their way, And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, All but within those banks, where rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. The dry land earth, and the great receptacle Of congregated waters he call'd seas. " Even Jonah, in his hour of peril, when the die was cast, and the lot fell upon him, realized to his reviving faith the divine origin of the waters, and avowed his belief of it amongst the idolatrous mariners. ' I fear the Lord God of heaven, who •CREATION. 21 hath made the sea and the dry land/ Penitent for his heinous sin, and meekly submissive to its punishment, he evidently felt relief from the con- sideration, that as God had made the sea, as well as the dry land, though he might be cast into its vast abyss, he should not be cast out of the Almighty's hand. The mariners cried every man to his god ; but it is very plain, that they ex- perienced not the composure enjoyed by the guilty but repentant prophet, as he stood upon the brink of the vessel ; for they knew not the Creator of the waves on which they were tossed. An ac- knowledgment of the same import entered into the adoring prayer of the first Christian church, when threatened by their foes. ' They lift up their voice to God with one accord, and said, Lord, thou art God, which hast made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and all that in them is : — and now, Lord, behold their threatenings.' Similar also was the form of the oath sworn by the Apocalyptic angel in the hearing of St. John. ' The angel, which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth, lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by Him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are ; and the earth, and the things that therein are ; and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer.' It was to this fact — this first principle of religion, but of which, it 22 CREATION. seems, the feeble mind of man could not inform or assure itself, save through the medium of a revelation from God, — that St. Paul directed the attention of the Pagans of Lystra ; and even the brevity of the moral code admits this recognition into its fourth article. Nor is it one of the least advantages we derive from the light reflected upon us by divine revelation, that as believers our minds are at rest upon this interesting and important point. Tradition but feebly pointed the minds of the wisest Pagans to the true original of the universe ; and their reason as feebly grasped ' this plank from the wreck of paradise, thrown on the shores of idolatrous Greece' and Rome. Let us be thankful that we can look abroad upon our favourite prospects, and feel no doubt whence all we see came into being. The various schemes of ' philosophy, falsely so called/ could never account for the creation of one drop of this ocean that is dashing at our feet. The pupil of nature in vain sat from year to year in her school, and sought for satisfaction at her lips upon the nume- rous questions that arose in his mind. 2 Those lips were sealed, or opened only in the utterance of oracles ever dubious, and often false. The dis- ciple of Revelation, on the other hand, whether he 2 It is said, that Aristotle, the Greek Natural and Moral Philo- sopher, drowned himself in the Euripus, because he could not find out the cause of its flux and reflux. CREATION. 23 occupies the seat of the learned, or is the way- faring man, and untaught in the wisdom of this world, while meditating on the wide field of nature, catches and echoes back the song of angels, who, casting their crowns before the throne of God, exclaim, ' Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power; for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are, and were created.' Redemption was creation more sublime, and redemption is to be the cardinal theme of ransomed sinners in time and in eternity. But creation is not to be lost sight of when we would exalt our views of His eternal power and Godhead, who is equally the author of both, and from both derives a vast revenue of glory. ' When man was first formed, creation was his book, and God was his preceptor. The elements were so many letters, by means of which, when rightly understood and put together, the wisdom, power, and good- ness of the great Creator became legible to him. — Happy the times when all knowledge thus lay in one volume ; when the pursuit of wisdom was attended by pleasure, and followed by devotion ! — The raptures with which the penmen of the Holy Scriptures expatiate upon the perfections of God, as displayed in the creation, are well known. And could we bring our minds habitually into the same 24 CREATION. train of thinking, every walk we take would begin with admiration, and end with praise. We should always, upon such occasions, think what the Psalmist has so finely expressed, after a survey of the heavens above and the earth beneath. — ' O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : the earth is full of thy riches ! ? And who, that looks around him, from the delightful place where we now are, can forbear to add, ' So is this great and wide sea also ! ' For of this truth let us never be unmindful, that won- derful as the sea is in itself, and beneficial as it is to the sons of men, all its wonders and all its benefits reflect glory and honour on Him who formed and poured it abroad. — Let us remember, that ' the sea is his, and he made it/ Such an object, continually before our eyes, invites and demands our attention ; and religion calls upon us to search out the riches of divine power and good- ness contained in it/ 3 Let us, therefore, frequently allow our minds so to meditate on the wisdom, power, and goodness of Jehovah in the production of the watery world, that the roar of its stormy billows, and the mur- murs of its calmly rippling wave, may echo to our ear, ' The sea is his, and he made it ! ' All the united sagacity and power of intelligent creatures 3 Bishop Home's Sermon on the Sea. CREATION. 25 could not give existence to a single drop of water. How worthy of admiration, then, is the omnipo- tence, whose fiat created the seas, especially when we behold creative and redeeming power clothing the same arm. To redeem and restore a lost world was not less the exclusive work of Deity, than to give being to that world. ' I looked, and there was none to help : and I wondered that there was none to uphold : therefore mine own arm brought salvation unto me.' " Nor is it an uninteresting association, con- nected with prospects like this now before us/' said Julia, interrupting a short and thoughtful silence which followed the concluding sentence of her father's paper, " that, as we trace in Sacred History the blessed steps of our Saviour's most holy life, it seems that the shores of seas or large lakes were his frequent resort. There our Lord, often, in solitude, found a welcome retreat from the fatigues of his ministry, and experienced, in the contemplation of his own works, a measure of the complacent delight which he felt when they first came from his hands. How replete with gladden- ing and elevating considerations is the fact, on which papa has dwelt, that creation and redemp- tion are the labours of the same hands. ' For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things. To whom be glory for ever. Amen. ,,, c 26 CREATION. "Under what lasting obligations/' added Charles Willoughby, " has our sainted mother laid my brother, my sister, and myself, by the early care she took to establish in our minds a connexion between every object of sense and the idea of a great First Cause. It was her custom to simplify to our youthful understandings the primary prin- ciples of what has been called natural religion ; although, as she used to say, there is not a single principle of truth, but what owes its promulgation to the oracles of God. Her main and ultimate object, however, was to win our hearts to the Lord. It was redeeming love, therefore, as sur- passing in wonder, and in its claims upon our regard, both creative and preserving goodness, that she chiefly delighted to spread before our eyes, and to connect in our thoughts with all the beauties and sublimities of nature. How often did she hold our minds chained by the irresistible force of maternal eloquence, while from some inland eminence, or some tall cliff that overlooked the deep, she taught us to admire, to love, and to adore the Saviour. Our hearts would sometimes overflow, when that dear mother reminded us, that the hands which ' stretched out the heavens as a curtain' over the seas and dry land, were nailed in weakness and agony to the cross, that, by the mys- terious virtue of the accursed tree, they might acquire the more than divine power to save us CREATION. 27 from the lake of fire. For, as she was wont to say, it is more than the work of omnipotence itself to save an unransomed slave of sin and Satan." " And I think," said Miss Willoughby, " that I heard Edwin the other day repeating some verses, which mamma gave each of us to learn. He will, I doubt not, recite them now ; for they are not altogether irrelevant to our subject." " With great pleasure :" — replied Edwin, " they are these." My God ! thy boundless Love I praise : How bright on high its glories blaze ! How sweetly bloom below ! It streams from thine eternal throne ; Through heav'n its joys for ever run, And o'er the earth they flow ! 'Tis Love that paints the purple morn, And bids the clouds, in air upborne, Their genial drops distil ; In every vernal beam it glows, And breathes in every gale that blows, And glides in every rill. It robes in cheerful green the ground, And pours its flow'ry beauties round, Whose sweets perfume the gale ; Its beauties richly spread the plain, The blushing fruit, the golden grain, And smile on every vale. 28 CREATION. But in thy gospel see it shine, With grace and glories more divine, Proclaiming sins forgiv'n ! There, Faith, bright cherub, points the way, To realms of everlasting day, And opens all her heav'n ! Then let the love that makes me blest, With cheerful praise inspire my breast, And ardent gratitude ; And all my thoughts and passions tend To Thee, my Father and my Friend, My soul's eternal good ! Dart from thine own celestial flame, One vivid beam, to warm my frame With kindred energy ! Mark thine own image on my mind, And teach me to be good and kind, And love and bless like Thee ! CHAPTER IV. MONODY. What had passed between his children, evidently affected Mr. Willoughby ; and he now stole away from the company, to conceal from them, while he indulged to himself, the mingled emotions which had been awakened in his breast. He had lately lost the mother of his children — the partner of his life; and one object he had in view in visiting the coast, was to relieve the sorrow, which he could not, and he wished not, entirely to throw off. He felt, that there was much in the bereaving dispensation to detach him from earth ; and the assurance, that the beloved companion of more than twenty of his best years had joined the palm-bearing host of the redeemed, frequently drew him into solitude, to meditate on the blessed- ness of them that die in the Lord. On this occa- sion he strayed awhile among the rocks, and yielded his thoughts to the anticipation of a day, when with her he hoped to expatiate, to infinitely greater advantage, on the whole ocean of created 30 MONODY. being. Nor was it merely a fond and undecaying attachment to the departed, strong as that attach- ment was, that led him confidently to expect that he should recognize and renew a sacred inter- course with her, when they both should be " as the angels which are in heaven." He felt satisfied, to the exclusion of even the shadow of a doubt, that the uniform tenor of the evidence inferible from the Holy Scriptures, was in favour of such a personal recognition. It is, indeed, he fully knew, and he rejoiced to know, the presence of the Sa- viour, which constitutes the felicity of redeemed and glorified souls. But, then, as we are permitted and enjoined to cherish upon earth many degrees of affection towards other objects, in subordination to our supreme love of Him, " who is altogether lovely, and the chiefest among ten thousand," so Mr. Willoughby concluded, that it was quite allowable to intermingle with our anticipations of beholding the glory of the Lord, the hope of renewing the holy friendships of earth, in the holier regions of heaven. He was accustomed to say, in illustration of his sentiments on this point, that the sun loses nothing of its splendour in the eye of a lover of nature, although ten thousand objects, which are beautified by its beams, are also esteemed and admired. Mr. Willoughby did not rejoin the party till they were on their way homewards. He had sat down upon a ledge of MONODY. 31 rock, and written the following lines, which he afterwards gave to his daughter, saying, as he placed them in her hands, " It is an unstudied effusion of your father's heart, my Emily : and I know that you value even a trifle, if it reminds you of your dear mother." Miss Willoughby showed them, in the evening, to the Hamiltons, when her father and her brother Charles had gone to visit an invalid friend. MONODY. It is not solitude, to roam the shore, To hear the curlew's cry — the billows roar ; To read, upon the cliff's deep-graven page, The hieroglyphics of the world's long age ; The sapphire-pillar'd heavens above to scan, Embracing earth and ocean in their span ; The lines of beauty in a shell to trace, And watch the sportings of the finny race ; Though never human foot save thine is near, Nor friendship's tender voice salute thine ear ; If home, though distant far, is not bereft Of life's chief solace : if thou art not left A lonely pilgrim 'midst the waste of life, The prey of anguish, and the bosom's strife. I am that desolate ! — yet not alone, For I can meet thee at our Father's throne. Thine is the song of praise, and mine the prayer, That I may trace thy steps and meet thee there. I bend my ear — I listen at the gate, Which gave thee entrance to thy blissful state. I 32 MONODY. Hark ! — is it thine ? — the voice I heard among The pealing anthems of the ransom'd throng ? 'Tis thine ! — 'tis thine ! — the same sweet voice, that oft Join'd with my own on earth : — but now more soft, More lovely, yet more loud, it rises higher, And rivals angels in their full-ton'd choir. Ye seraphs, station'd at the bright pearl gate, 4 In sun-beam robes, arriving saints t' await, And bid them enter, one brief moment place The portal wide, or e'en a little space. This feeble sight invigorate, to gaze On shining crowds, undazzled by the blaze Of light ethereal ! Point her out to me, Ye seraphs ! — spare your offices — 'tis she ! My * * * * I clearly trace her 'midst the throng, As bright in glory, as she's sweet in song. I know her still — distinguish'd from the rest Of myriads sainted, and for ever blest. Resplendent though her crown — her robe, though white As never earthly garb — a robe of light — 'Tis the same soul that mingled once with mine, In sentiment, and love, and hope divine. But ah ! how chang'd ! Thy tears are wip'd away : Thy night has ended in eternal day. Thou smil'st as angels smile. Thy woes, thy fears Are gone for ever, with the fleeting years Of thy terrestrial life — like clouds that vest The Alpine mountain top, 'till on its breast Pours from the orient sky a flood of gold : Then mists and darkling clouds away are roll'd, 4 Every several gate was of one pearl. Rev. xxi. 21. MONODY. 33 Exhal'd and lost in air. Now all is peace, For thou art where all angry tempests cease. O turn thine eye, one little moment, down ! O look on me ! on me, of late thine own : — And still thine own : — for I can ne'er resign The sacred privilege that made thee mine. We yet are one, in endless union join'd, Indissolubly one, in heart and mind. Death cannot sever ties so firm as this : One here in woe, we shall he one in bliss. 'Till then, O come in angel form, to lead Our weary footsteps, and increase our speed ; To follow in thy track, yet mark'd with light, As late thou left it in the shades of night. On ministering errands oft descend : Still be thy husband's and thy children's friend, As erst thou wast ; and, in life's darkest hours, When danger threatens and the tempest low'rs, Uphold our feet, lest haply 'gainst a stone We dash and fall. Saviour ! at thy throne Asham'd I bow — asham'd I bend my knee, To give my heart to her, and not to Thee : O take it now, since thou hast ta'en her hence, And fill it, Lord, with love and penitence ! For this perhaps I feel the deathful stroke; For this perhaps my faithless heart is broke ; Come, then, and heal it, that it e'er may be A consecrated seat for none but Thee. Farewell, blest saint ! — a short adieu, I trust : Angels, your vigils keep around her dust — Her sacred dust, that lies in holy ground, Where solitude and silence reign around : c2 34 MONODY. Save when the bird of night her widow'd song Pours in elegiac strains, the groves among : Or Zephyr, gliding on the ev'ning breeze, Sighs mournfully amidst the waving trees :- — Or when Devotion chimes her Sabbath-bell :•= — Or Death again tolls deep his iron knell : — Or life's vain joys demand the blithesome peal, That boasts of extasies which few can feel : — There rests her dust, beneath our village tow'r. Waiting in guarded sleep the destin'd hour, When, wak'd by seraphs, and reform'd, 'twill rise, To join its sister spirit in the skies. Peace to this spot! — its lonely rocks and waves Have soothed my soul, while o'er the field of graves, Far distant, fond imagination rov'd, And hover'd o'er that tomb so mourn'd — so lov'd. Roll on— roll on, ye ebbing — flowing tides, Ye measurers of time : my spirit chides Your tardy changes, panting for the hour, When your last wave shall ripple to the shore, And time, and sin, and woe shall be no more. " I am reminded/' said Edwin Willoughby, with an affectionate sigh, which yet sought con- cealment, '* of Cowper's incomparable lines, on the receipt of his mother's picture/' particularly where he thus addresses his departed parent : — Thou, — as a gallant bark from Albion's coast (The storms all weather'd and the ocean cross'd) Shoots into port at some well-haven'd isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, MONODY. 35 There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play- Around her, fanning light her streamers gay ; — So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reach'd the shore, Where tempests never beat nor billows roar. Conversation then succeeded on the state of deceased saints, and the various lights of Scripture were employed to elucidate the nature of their bliss and glory, who, being delivered from the burden of the flesh, are in joy and felicity. The evening thus passed delightfully, though it seemed to reach its close too soon. The two families separated, not as worldlings are wont to separate, palled to satiety with the insipidities of heartless intercourse; but mentally refreshed, and more affectionately attached than before. CHAPTER V. THE SEA IS HIS. When the two families met on the subsequent morning, at the Rev. Mr. Hamilton's breakfast table, Theophilus, with a somewhat arch smile, remarked, that he suspected one of the Muses had met and accompanied Edwin in his morning ram- ble ; for that, having unintentionally and unseen passed by Edwin's favourite haunt, he had heard him reading over to himself some lines, which, from the pencil and scraps of paper beside him, he conceived must be original. " I had too much honesty," said he " though I cannot say that I had no struggle with my curiosity, to stop and listen to our young poet. But, if it will not materially interfere with the employments of our dejeune, I will request him to favour us with his matin exercise." " It is hardly fair," replied Edwin, " to take me thus by surprise. You shall, however, have THE SEA IS HIS. 37 them, Theophilus, just as they are, in the rough, like the sea-weed, which my sister takes from the little basins in the rocks, before it is pricked out and arranged by her hand. My humble lines were suggested by the subject of Mr. Hamilton's paper on the words of David, THE SEA IS HIS, AND HE MADE IT. The sea is His : He made it, and he keeps, Whether it wakes in storms, or calmly sleeps 'Neath summer's torrid blaze and cloudless skies, And mirrors on its breast their glowing dies. In the vast hollow of his boundless hand He holds the waters, and, at his command, Flow and retire the ever-changing tides : The ebbing wave returns, the flood subsides. He, as an infant in the mother's hands, Swathes its vast bulk in adamantine bands ; And when, by tempests rous'd, it foams and roars, Restrains its fury by th' unyielding shores. He, where through lucid deeps the day-star smiles, Decks its broad bosom with ten-thousand isles, Whose emerald rocks, reflected on the wave, Far down seem pointing to the seaman's grave. He strews with gems the ocean's cavern'd ways, Where the whale slumbers and the dolphin plays ; And where, committed to their faithful trust, The waters bleach the treasur'd bones and dust Of many a sea-tomb'd saint, one day to rise, And hail his Saviour's advent in the skies. He, when along the surface of the main, Like armies marshall'd on the tented plain, 38 THE SEA IS HIS. Embattled navies dare the awful fight, TV unseen and silent witness of the sight, Sits on his cloud-encurtain'd throne, and gives Death to the death-doom'd — life to him that lives. He, when, forlorn, the ship-boy lifts his eye From some lone rock, nor help, nor hope is nigh, Hears 'mid conflicting storms his feeble prayer, And bids his angels timely succour bear, To save the almost victim of despair. He, when fast hurried toward the dread lee-shore, Affrighted mariners his aid implore, Oft by some friendly gale diverts tbeir course, And saves them from the death-wing'd tempest's force. The sea is His, in all its varied forms, Its rocks — its calms — its billows-— and its storms. Nor less, in all its changeful scenes, is life Beneath his eye, its days of peace or strife. And who is He, whom winds and waves obey, While universal nature owns his sway ? My Father and my Saviour ! at whose will The fiercer storms of life are hush'd and still. O why then, faithless, shall I doubt or fear ? The.cov'nant God of sea and earth is near ! CHAPTER VI THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. On the Saturday evening the Hamiltons were alone, and as they were seated round the table, Mrs. Hamilton produced and read a short paper, which, in the following week, was handed to their friends, ON PREPARATION FOR THE SABBATH. " I have been as much humbled, and, I trust, profited, as I have been delighted with a little book, entitled, ' The Last Day of the Week.' I first met with it in the cottage of our gardener, Robin, and borrowed it of his wife, who evidently seemed to have derived good from its perusal. Since then I have distributed many copies of it, not only amongst the poor, but in the families of our more respectable parishioners. The object of the little 40 THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. publication is, to promote such an attention to the duties of the last day of the week, as shall prove a suitable preparation for the first day of the week : and after I had given it a first reading, I could not help following the example set me in its 11th page. 'When the close of the day ar- rived, I knelt down under a solemn impression of the force of God's commandments, and the solemnity of the conclusion of the last day of the week; and addressed my supplications to the Lord, that he would put the finishing stroke, which would sanctify my soul, and cleanse away the sin of the week ; and prepare my soul, by his Spirit, for the duties of the Sabbath — that I might re- member the Sabbath to keep it holy ; so beginning that week in his name, which would soon again end in the last day of the week. And, O my God, I cried, so be thou my guide, and the God of my salvation, that when the last day of my life may come, I may be found to have finished my course in faith, and to be ready, through thy grace and mercy, by thy own finished work of the re- demption of sinners, to enter upon that eternal sabbath, which is for ever enjoyed in thy holy presence. I felt a quiet repose in God ; a sweet preparation for the Lord's day; and with my Saviour's triumphant cry on the cross — It is finished ! fell asleep.' THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. 41 " I have often since reflected on the subject, and consider it one to which I cannot too seriously call the attention of our whole family. The wise author of the Apocryphal Book of Ecclesiasticus has well said, ' My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation/ This admonitory aphorism frequently recurs to my mind on the approach or arrival of the consecrated day of rest. I have good reason to expect that Satan will then be busy in doing mischief to my soul. For him these days too rapidly return, because they are days of triumph to his great adversary, and ' victory ! victory !' is the reiterated shout of the heavenly hosts over one, and another, and another captive, rescued from his tyranny, and gifted with the liberty of the sons of God. The strong man is therefore on the alert to keep his goods in peace. We may also well imagine that his malignity and rage are greatly excited, when he beholds the former slaves of his will thronging round the throne of the Eternal, in lowly adoration and ardent love. He watches every opportunity, which the outward circumstances, or besetting sins and infirmities of the saints may proffer, to ensnare and annoy those, over every one of whom, as over the Arabian Patriarch, there yet hangs this authoritative prohibition, ' Behold, all that he hath is in thy power ; only upon himself put not forth thine hand/ The more perfectly the 42 THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. Sabbath is consecrated to its high and holy pur- poses, at the greater distance is Satan kept from our souls. He, therefore, practises the most crafty and subtle ingenuity in the contrivance of in- numerable schemes, to lead us into a partial desecration of at least a part of this blessed day. If he cannot altogether immerse the believer's raiment in the Stygian lake, he will make every effort to stain and defile it. Our wily foe avails himself of numberless minute, and apparently trifling things, in our domestic and personal cir- cumstances, to distract our thoughts, and to fritter away, if not to engross, our most precious moments. It should, then, be our prayer and study, to guard against his devices ; and one most effectual pre- caution is, to consider and use the last day of the week as w 7 hat the Jews used to call the day preceding their high festivals, — the ' day of the preparation.' " The spirit of prayer, indeed, should rest upon us at all seasons, and in the absence of all religious forms. But the recurrence of special seasons, and special duties, calls for special acts of supplication. It may, therefore, be desirable, and prove highly advantageous, to regard Saturday in relation to Sunday, as we regard the precincts of a temple in relation to that temple — holy, if not most holy ; and to be fervent in prayer, and frequent in ejaculatory supplication, that we may be enabled THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. 43 so to arrange, and forward, and complete the work of our six days, that we may enjoy the Sabbath in its real character, as a day of holy rest. To the neglect of such foresight and arrangement we must attribute the kind of noisy bustle, often too visible in religious families, on the morning of the con- secrated day — that day so beautifully, though quaintly described, by our pious Herbert,— The couch of time, care's balm and bay I " The lamentable, and most censurable custom, of rising at a later hour, and the having to get every thing in readiness for going to the house of God, is frequently seen to throw an entire family into confusion, and so to embitter the tempers of some, if not of all, that the haste, and bustle, and even clamour, which prevail, form an affecting contrast to the scene pictured by the prophet — \ Many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob ; and he will teach of his ways, and we will walk in his paths/ " How much, if not the whole of this evil might be prevented by a solicitous care to leave nothing to be done on the Sabbath, which can be done on the preceding day ; so that the only care of that blessed season may be, not ' the outward adorning 44 THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, and of putting on of apparel ;' but that we may be found ' clothed with humility/ and ' putting on the Lord Jesus Christ, not making provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof/ How desirable is it, that, contented with and thankful for simple food, and that as far as possible prepared on the previous day, we may on the Sabbath especially hunger and thirst after righteousness, and feed upon Jesus, the living bread, which came down from heaven. " Such household arrangements, as I have hinted at, are peculiarly needful at a place of public resort like this, where the force of example is great ; where the moral influence of visitors upon the stated inhabitants is extensive and lasting ; and where Christian families, so far from relaxing the sacred discipline and holy habits of their pro- fession, ought to make it their aim and prayer, that they may leave a blessing behind them — even a savour of that precious Redeemer's name, who is all in all to them who know, and love, and serve him. With these views, as the mistress of a family, I make a point of never walking out on the Saturday evening, unless I am conscious of having set my house in order for the approaching weekly festival : nor can I retire to enjoy the rest of the week's last night, unless I can with some humble confidence affirmatively answer the THE EVE OF THE SABBATH. 45 query, Have I done the whole of my preparation- work^ Sweet day of rest! for thee I'd wait, Emblem and earnest of a state Where saints are fully blest ! For thee I'd look, for thee I'd sigh ! I'd count the days till thou art nigh, Sweet day of sacred rest !" Louisa and Julia thanked their mother for these suggestions, and cheerfully promised to make it their endeavour to further her design, and to promote through the household a suitable atten- tion to the duty of making preparation for the Sabbath. CHAPTER VII SABBATH BY THE SEA. Few are insensible of the soothing and even exhilarating influence of a calm and bright Sabbath morning on the sea coast. The soft murmuring of the waves and woods ; the smooth and placid aspect of the waters and the heavens ; and the general tranquillity which pervades the inland scene, conspire to aid the devotional temper of the Christian's soul : nor, while so many external hindrances occur to interrupt the desired tenor of his thoughts and feelings, is he indifferent to, or unthankful for, external assistances. He well knows, indeed, that religion consists not of out- ward observances, or of doctrinal notions, or of tasteful sensibilities. " The sacredness of the hallowed day, and all the decencies of its observa- tion, may engage the affections of him who loves to walk in the footsteps of his Father ; and every recurring Sabbath may bring to his bosom the charm of its regularity and its quietness. Religion has its accompaniments ; and in these there may SABBATH BY THE SEA. 47 be a something to soothe and to fascinate, even in the absence of the appropriate influences of reli- gion. — The love of established decencies, is not religion. The charm of all that sentimentalism, which is associated with many of its solemn and affecting services, is not religion. They may form the distinct folds of its accustomed drapery : but they do not, any, or all of them put together, make up the substance of the thing itself. — They are, in truth, as different the one from the other, as a taste for the grand and the graceful of scenery differs from the appetite of hunger ; and the one may both exist and have a most intense operation within the bosom of that very individual, who entirely disowns, and is entirely disgusted with the other. What ! must a man be converted, ere from the most elevated peak of some Alpine wil- derness, he become capable of feeling the force and the majesty of those great lineaments, which the hand of nature has thrown around him, in the varied forms of precipice and mountain, and the wave of mighty forests, and the rush of sounding waterfalls, and distant glimpses of human territory, and pinnacles of everlasting snow, and the sweep of that circling horizon which folds in its ample embrace the whole of this noble amphi-theatre ? Tell me, whether, without the aid of Christianity, or without a particle of reverence for the only name given under heaven whereby men can be 48 SABBATH BY THE SEA. saved, a man may not kindle at such a perspective as this, into all the raptures, and into all the movements of a poetic elevation ; and be able to render into the language of poetry, the whole of that sublime and beauteous imagery which adorns it : aye, and as if he were treading on the confines of a sanctuary which he has not entered, may he not mix up with the power and enchantment of his description, such allusions to the presiding genius of the scene ; or to the still but animating spirit of the solitude ; or to the speaking silence of some mysterious character which reigns through- out the landscape ; or, in fine, to thatEternal Spirit, who sits behind the elements he has formed, and combines them into all the varieties of a wide and a wondrous creation ; might not all this be said and sung with an emphasis so moving, as to spread the colouring of piety over the pages of him, who performs thus well upon his instrument ; and yet, the performer himself have a conscience unmoved by a single warning of God's actual communica- tion, and the judgment unconvinced, and the fears unawakened, and the life unreformed by it ? " Many remarks of a similar character with these were made, when the Hamiltons and Willoughbys met on their way to church, on the morning of the Sabbath. The morning was such as was above mentioned, and while our friends enjoyed the re- viving and animating influence of the scenery, they SABBATH BY THE SEA. 49 affectionately intermingled observations of a spi- ritual character, which were adapted to raise their thoughts above all terrestrial beauties, and to fix their affections and expectations where supreme excellence, and true joys are to be found. Just as they were entering the field, or rather garden of graves, for the church-yard was kept in becoming order and decency, the Rev. Mr. Hamilton re- marked, " I once heard a venerable Clergyman give a simple and expressive definition of the religion of the gospel, which often recurs to my mind with much admonitory force and sweetness, when I am about to attend upon the means of grace. Let us all bear it on our minds through this morning's service, that we may realize the great end of religious ordinances. His definition was this : Religion is a derivation of life from the Lord Jesus Christ." With a train of thought to which this sentiment gave rise, the party entered the house of God, and using it in its appropriate character, they found it to be none other than the gate of heaven. Charles Wil- loughby took short-hand notes of the sermon, and afterwards wrote it out for the sick friend, whom he had visited on the Friday. THE SERMQN. Psalm civ. 1, 2, 3. Bless the Lord, O my soul : O Lord, my God, thou art very great : thou art clothed with honour and majesty. D 50 SABBATH BY THE SEA. Who coverest thyself with light, as with a garment : who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain. Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : who maketh the clouds his chariot : who walketh upon the wings of the wind. Who maketh his angels spirits ; his ministers a flaming fire. " This Psalm has been, with much propriety, styled a hymn for the Sabbath-day. It was probably used as such in the ancient services of the Jewish temple, and it is no less suited to the more spiritual services of the Christian church. It celebrates the divine attributes ' displayed in the creation of the universe, the destruction of the earth by the de- luge, and the restoration of beauty and order after that calamity; and describes the dependence of all nature, animated and vegetable, upon his pro- vidence, for sustenance and preservation. For regularity of composition, richness of imagery, sublimity of sentiment, and elegance and perspi- cuity of diction, it is, perhaps, the principal poem in the whole collection of these inspired songs. As there is no allusion in it to the Mosaic ritual, nor any mention of the deliverance of the Israelites from Egvpt, it should seem, that it was of an earlier age than the Exodus.' This conjecture of a learned prelate of our Church, may appear to derive some confirmation from a comparison be- tween this Psalm and many parts of the Book of Job, which are so similar, that it seems more than possible that their respective authors were cotem- SABBATH BY THE SEA. 51 porary, if they may not be identified. It is not, however, either necessary or expedient to lengthen these preliminary remarks. The date, the writer, and other circumstances of any part of divine revelation are only of importance, as they may tend to illustrate the meaning, and the lessons we are to learn from it. For, as every drop of water in the neighbouring ocean is from the Crea- tor's hand, and has its part and office assigned it in the general mass, so ' all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works/ May the Lord the Spirit vouchsafe his presence and blessing to the hearer and the preacher of his word, that it may at this season answer one or all of these sacred purposes. " Proceed we to meditate upon our proposed subject, as containing, in the first place, The Psalmist's apostrophe to his own soul; and in the second place, The Psalmist's adora- tion of Jehovah's majesty and glory. " I. The Psalmist's apostrophe to his own soul. ' Bless the Lord, O my soul ! ' We have a similarly abrupt and beautiful introduction to the preceding song of Zion. ' Bless the Lord, O my soul ! and all that is within me, bless his holv name ! ' Whenever we address ourselves to i 52 SABBATH BY THE SEA. the service of God, whether in adoration, thanks- giving, or supplication, while the outward man maintains all that is decorous in appearance, the inner man is to be the principal agent in the solemn occupation. For religion is the business and proper employment of the soul ; and, as ' God is a Spirit, they who worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth.' We are to bring with us to his altar, an understanding enlightened by his word, and reposing in faith on its testimony ; a will renewed and conformed to his good pleasure ; and affections prepared and disposed to love what he commands, and to desire what he promises. The language of our hearts, in every approach to the divine presence, should be that used by devout communicants at the table of the Lord. ' Here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice unto Thee/ Thus the service of God is to be the act of the whole man. " We observe also, the proper object of reli- gious services, and to which the Psalmist directs the attention of his soul. That object is the Lord — the Jehovah of revelation — the self- exis- tent Three-one, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost — the source of all being, in the material and immaterial world, and especially of spiritual life — the Lord, revealing himself to man as able and willing to save to the uttermost, and known SABBATH BY THE SEA. 53 to the believer as the Lord, his reconciled Father ; the Lord, his atoning and interceding Redeemer; the Lord, his Sanctifier and Comforter. It is only when viewed in this in- viting and endearing aspect, that the soul of man can lift itself up to God in such an act of adoring admiration and love, as that to which the writer of this Psalm here summons all his powers. That we may with joy thus contemplate the divine cha- racter, may the Holy Spirit help our infirmities, ' shining into our hearts to give unto us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.' Many, who engage in religious observances, are wholly mistaken in the object of their worship. We may say to them, as our Lord did to the Samaritan woman, ' Ye worship ye know not what/ Their altar is that of the Athe- nians, To the unknown God. It is a mere name, or a notion, that they reverence ; not a spi- ritual being, whose presence is to be felt ; whose favour is better than life ; and whom to know, and love, and serve, is life eternal. They enjoy not the blessedness of the man who sets the Lord always before him, walking with him as his child, his disciple, his friend, his servant. " Others there are, and they not few in number, who differently err as to the object of their religious services. One man is, perhaps most unconsciously, himself his own object. He takes a kind of self- I 54 SABBATH BY THE SEA. complacency in certain duties. They gratify the vanity of his heart. He imagines that he is doing some great thing : that he is amassing a store of merit, on the score of which he may draw largely on the divine bounty : that he is making out a righteousness of his own, which enables him to lift his head erect in the temple, with ' Lord, I thank thee I am not as other men are ! ' To promote the glory of God, never enters into his purposes. The self-justiciary is, unwittingly, himself the ultimate object of his religion. He is like a vain man, who, looking down upon the calm sea, when it reflects every object above and around, is wholly unaffected by the beauty and magnificence of the mirrored heavens, and gazes only upon the image of his own person. Another man, in pursuing a religious course, proposes human praise as his great end. It is not that he takes any genuine delight in the things of God : it is not that he has any relish for the sacred viands of the gospel feast : it is not that his affections are moved in lively gratitude towards the Lord. Nothing of this nature ever leads his feet to holy ground, or opens his lips in the accents of praise or supplication. Jesus would have numbered him with the persons, of whom he said, ' But all their works they do for to be seen of men/ Human praise — human approbation — is the end and aim of all they do, and ' Verily, I say unto you, they have their reward.' They catch at SABBATH BY THE SEA. 55 the gale of man's applause, which floats along the surface of the ocean of life, and is finally lost in the tempest of wrath, in which all must founder and perish, who live and die regardless of Jehovah's solemn declaration : ' I will not give my glory to another.' " Religion, moreover, is a matter of personal interest and obligation. It cannot be discharged by proxy. The pilgrimage to Mount Zion — to the heavenly Jerusalem — cannot be performed by one for the benefit of another. It must be the act, the experience, the life of the individual. ' Bless the Lord, O my soul ! ' The writers of the sacred melodies are not deficient in the duty of exciting others to take up the Hallelujah chorus of the church. — Bat, at the same time, they rejoice to sustain their own part, and to maintain their own interest in a service, which is the source of per- sonal felicity to all the company of heaven — a service, ' like the incense of the Jewish priest, which, while it did honour to God, did likewise regale with its own fragrancy the person by whom it was offered.' " But the humble-minded Christian may ask, ' Is it for me to bless the Most High God ? Is he not exalted above all blessing and praise ? ' He is. Yet he graciously condescends to require and accept the blessings and praises of angels. Yea, he condescends still lower, and deigns to command 56 SABBATH BY THE SEA. and receive the blessings and praises of redeemed souls, not only in heaven, but also on earth. Still may the loud voice of the Levites be heard, ' as the voice of many waters/ saying, ' Stand up and bless the Lord your God for ever and ever ; and blessed be thy glorious name, which is exalted above all blessing and praise.' The propriety of this act, however, on the part of a creature, and even a sinful creature, will appear upon consider- ing, that the real import of the scriptural term to bless, ' as man doth God, or an inferior his supe- rior, is to bow, as it were, the knee to him, and so ascribe one's present or expected rest and happiness to him.' * Then,' replies the believer, ' let my soul habitually bow before Him, for most truly all I possess or expect of rest, and peace, and joy, is from Him, my Father, as its source ; and through Him, my Saviour, as its channel. I will extol thee, my God, O King : and I will bless thy name for ever and ever. Every day will I bless thee ; and I will praise thy name for ever and ever. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised : and his greatness is unsearchable.' " This not unaptly introduces the latter branch of our subject. " II. The Psalmist's adoration of Jeho- vah's majesty and glory. ' Lord my God, thou art very great : thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light, SABBATH BY THE SEA. 57 as with a garment :. who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain. Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters ; who maketh the clouds his chariot, who walketh upon the wings of the wind. Who maketh his angels spirits : his mi- nisters a flaming fire.' This is the Psalmist's adoring prayer, and we ourselves may improve and adopt it as an address to Jehovah, in his ex- alted character of the world's Creator, and in his glorious office of the world's Redeemer. Both creation and redemption, indeed, are the works of the same hand, and we are not to be surprised at the strong and beautiful analogies which are found to subsist between them. " L The contemplative and adoring believer, while surveying the universe, feels himself to be in the midst of the grand temple, or palace, of the King of kings, and Lord of lords. Before his attention, therefore, is arrested by created objects, his soul communes with the presiding and all- pervading Deity, and that with a solemn fami- liarity, which bespeaks his filial relation : ' O Lord, my God ! ' This familiarity, however, does not diminish his reverence, well remembering that the Lord has said, ' I will be sanctified in them that come nigh me.' He is deeply impressed by a sense of the Divine Majesty, not only in contrast with his own insignificance, but also with the comparative meanness of all other beings. ' Thou d2 58 SABBATH BY THE SEA. art very great ! ' The greatness — the vast heights and depths, and lengths and breadths of the creation, elude the grasp of the strongest human intellect. What then can man say, when he comes to contemplate the majesty of God ? There is much sublimity in this simple expression : ' Thou art very great!' All comparison is out of the question, and unavailing, except as it may aid us in the enlargement and elevation of our souls. ' For canst thou by searching find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection ? It is high as heaven ; what canst thou do ? — deeper than hell ; what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea ! ' Yet, blessed be his glo- rious name for ever, though he is so very great, he permits the believer in Jesus to adore him in self- appropriating language, ' O Lord, my God ! ' " To speak in terms borrowed from objects of the greatest earthly magnificence, the pomp and splendour of kings, the majesty of Jehovah is seen in the grandeur of his attire. His vesture is honour and majesty itself. The perfection of glory forms his robe, from which all the beauties and excellence of created things are but reflected beams. Light is the purest and brightest of his works, and that which is most nearly assimilated to the nature of a spirit ; and with this Jehovah covereth himself. Hence the many expressions of SABBATH BY THE SEA. 59 Holy Scripture, employing this emblem, and de- scriptive of his nature and attributes. ' God is light :' ' the Father of lights :' ■ he dwells in light.' With this robe he invested himself, when he first came forth from his place to the work of creation ; when he led the march of his people through the wilderness ; and when he manifested his presence in the tabernacle of Moses, and the temple of Solomon. We see his glorious vesture, though we cannot behold his face. Blessed pri- vilege of heaven ! There we shall see him as he is, and the material light will no longer be the veil wherewith he covereth himself. ' The city hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it : for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof/ " The Divine Majesty is further displayed to our view in the grandeur of his pavilion. He stretcheth out the heavens like a curtain. They I form a magnificent canopy, or pavilion/ com- prehending within it the earth, and all the inhabitants thereof. It is enlightened by the celestial orbs suspended in it, as the holy taber- nacle was, by the lamps of the golden candlestick, and it was originally framed, erected, and furnished by its Maker, with more ease than man can con- struct and pitch a ' tent/ for his own temporary abode. Yet must this noble pavilion also be taken down ; these resplendent and beautiful heavens 60 SABBATH BY THE SEA. must pass away, and come to an end. How glorious then shall be those ' new heavens, which are to succeed them, and to endure for ever ! r The watery masses which float in the atmosphere form the beams of his chambers, where he sitteth unseen, and beholdeth all things, both in heaven and in earth. There is his secret place, dark with excessive brightness. ' Though air and water are fluid bodies, yet, by the divine power, they are kept as tight and as firm in the place assigned them, as a chamber is with beams and rafters. How great a God is He, whose presence-chamber is thus reared, thus fixed !' Yet, there he heareth the prayer of the broken heart. Thence he sendeth down comfort and peace into the contrite spirit. Thither may we ascend by faith, and hold with him sweet fellowship. "But behold the Lord, as it were, issuing from his palace, and going forth to the accom- plishment of his great counsels ! — c making the clouds his chariot ; riding upon the wings of the wind ! ' Similarly sublime imagery is used in the 18th Psalm, to describe one great act of his providence. ' He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind.' This occurred upon Mount Sinai, whither he came to deliver his ■ fiery law/ With such an equipage, Jehovah SABBATH BY THE SEA. 61 rides with swiftness, and strength, and far above the rage and power of his imbecile enemies, whenever he girds himself with the thunder of his power, and goes forth to the help of his people, and the overthrow of his foes. Infidel man may- ascribe the varied forms and movements of the clouds and winds to mere chance : but the believer sees a chariot of God in every cloud, — ' the chariots, of God are twenty thousand/ — and feels his presence in every 'wind,' as it passes by, and indicates his awful footstep. " It may further aid our feeble conceptions of the Divine Majesty, if we contemplate the retinue of Jehovah — the attendants of his throne, the companions of his progresses through the vast provinces of his empire, ' those ministers of his that do his pleasure.' Ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, even a u umber too great for human arithmetic to reckon, make up his train. He * maketh his angels spirits/ rapid in their movements as the swift winds that sweep the sea and land, — rapid and powerful as the flashes of electric fire that rend the clouds, the air, and the mountains, in sunder. The Apostle Paul quotes this verse in the exordium of his Epistle to the Hebrews, where he asserts the essential divinity of the Son of God, and claims for him upon earth the same divine honours that he receives in heaven, where the high mandate is i 62 SABBATH BY THE SEA. heard and obeyed, ■ Let all the angels of God worship him.' " The works of God, both the productions of his creative hand, and the arrangements of his pro- vidence, reflect his majesty upon every eye, which possesses the faculty of spiritual vision. It is the natural atheism of our hearts, which allows us ever to survey and admire the grandeur of the heavens, the earth, or the sea, without exciting emotions, and calling forth language, like the Psalmist's. And if we felt as we ought amidst these scenes, or when we read the page of history, or trace back the course of our own lives, we could not but exclaim, ' O Lord, my God, thou art very great/ Yet, comparing what we see and know, with what remains concealed from us, we must, often feel the force of Job's words, ' Lo, these are parts of his ways : but how little a portion is heard of Him ! ' ' The Lord hath his way in the whirl- wind and the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet;' but Him, in his own majesty and glory, no human eye hath seen or can see. A day, however, is approaching, when the redeemed shall see him as he is, and be like him — when even the material body shall be changed into that mysterious form, called a spiritual body, and thereby be qualified to attend and enjoy the presence of the Lord. " 2. But, my dear brethren, it is in redemption SABBATH BY THE SEA. 63 — in the redemption of a self-ruined world, that the majesty and glory of the Lord are most fully displayed. Here we are the most deeply interested. Here our adoration reaches its highest pitch. This claims our warmest gratitude, and our loudest praise. ' Father of all mercies — we bless thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life ; but above all, for thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world, by our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.' " It is in the majesty of redeeming power and love that the enlightened soul discovers the sub- limest exhibition of Jehovah's greatness, and feels an overpowering and yet delightful awe in sum- moning every power to his praise. If I view Him, says the lowly believer, merely as the God that made and ruleth in the earth, the sea, and the heavens, I am lost in the contemplation ; and though I may admit the truth of his omnipresence, all my philosophy cannot bring me to realize his nearness to me, nor inspire my anxious breast with peace. But in redemption I behold him near, and may rejoice in his presence. I can fall at his feet, and, absorbed in wonder and love, say, with consoling appropriation, ' O Lord, my God ! ' I find myself where Thomas lay, and exultingly, though humbly exclaim, ' My Lord ! and my God ! ' In the salvation of guilty and sinking 64 SABBATH BY THE SEA. millions, and still more in the salvation of my own soul, as the guiltiest of all, I see and own him very great, far more than in the creation and govern- ment of innumerable worlds. It is in his advent and sufferings in the flesh, * clothed with the garments of salvation,' that Jehovah appears most splendidly arrayed f with honour and majesty.' I feel him to be great indeed, when, in his amazing love and condescension, he manifests himself to me by his Spirit and his word, saying, ' I am thy God ;' and when he claims me as the purchase of his blood, and says, ' Thou art mine.' " Immanuel covered himself with light as with a garment, when he left his ' high and holy place,' and came down to the work of re-Greating our fallen race. He assumed the name of light. Isaiah had spoken of the Messiah as ' the Light of Israel,' and had given this assurance unto Sion, * The Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory.' Jesus came in all the majesty, the beauty, and the purity of the light. The splendour, which shone round the shepherds in the fields of Bethlehem, was an emblem of the glory of the Lord, who at that hour was made flesh, and pitched his tent amongst us. Though Jesus in great part veiled his essential and me- diatorial glory in his human nature, and in the low estate to which he voluntarily submitted, yet in the real greatness of his character, in the mag- SABBATH BY THE SEA. 65 nilicence of his miracles, in the purity of his conduct, and in the truth of his doctrines, he amply vindicated his claim to the title which he gave himself. I am the light of the world. Nor were times wanting, when the Sun of righte- ousness broke through the clouds which generally obscured his path, and when, as upon the mount of transfiguration, ' his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light/ Such was his covering when he rose from the dead, and when he ascended into heaven. Such was the robe, in which the Prophet of the Apoca- lypse beheld him clothed, when, in a brighter vision than that vouchsafed to Isaiah, he ' saw his glory, and spake of him. , In such a vestment also Jehovah appears to the penitent soul, and powerfully applies his word : ' Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee/ Jesus assimilates his people to himself. They are changed into the same image by the Spirit of the Lord. They put off the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, are renewed in the Spirit of their minds, and put on the new man, which, after God, is created in righteousness and true holiness. Jesus is to every believer in his name, the all-sufficient source of knowledge, purity, life, comfort, peace, and joy. Beloved brethren, is the Saviour thus the light of your souls? If he is, you have 66 SABBATH BY THE SEA. nothing to fear amidst the gloom of the darkest affliction, nor even when you pass through the valley of the shadow of death. Now, clothed in his spotless righteousness, and hereafter made * like him/ in personal holiness, you shall ' walk with him in white/ when time, and sin, and death shall be no more. " The visible heavens, extending their vast tent over the earth, and comprehending those mag- nificent chambers whose beams rest upon the waters, appear to our view invested with more than their natural splendour, when regarded as picturing * the third heavens/ — as being the outer courts of Jehovah's residence — the presence-chamber of the Great King. The same hand that stretched out yonder heavens as a curtain, and laid the floors of his palace upon the surface of the ocean, or upon the watery clouds, has spread a larger tent — hs pitched a richer pavilion — has built a firmer and more enduring palace for his saints. It adds beauty to those heavens to reflect, that they were garnished by the hand and the Spirit of our Re- deemer ; and it ought to fill us with admiration, gratitude, and longing anticipation, to remember, that the same voice which at first said, ' Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters/ and which bade ' the stars also' into existence, has since said, * In my Father's house are many man- sions. — I go to prepare a place for you. And if I SABBATH BY THE SEA. 67 go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am there ye maybe also/ Curiosity may suggest a thousand questions respecting the future abode of ' the elect people of God/ Faith is satisfied with the Saviour's declaration, ' Where I am, there also shall my servant be.' " Clouds are the emblems of affliction. Jehovah is figuratively represented as making the material clouds his chariot : and, by a similar figure of speech, he may be said to visit the world in the judgments which he executes, and the afflictions which he brings upon the children of men. How tremendous — how awful is the thunder-cloud of his wrath, wherein he comes down upon nations and individuals, who have sinned away the day of grace ! In such a cloud of ever-increasing black- ness he long hovered over devoted Sion, until the fiery indignation broke forth upon her, stretched her children lifeless in her streets, and levelled her walls with the dust. The brow of Cain was marked with the lightning of Jehovah's anger — thus Nadab and Abihu died before the Lord — thus profane Uzzah perished — thus Ananias and Sapphira fell down and gave up the ghost, ' caught with a lie upon their tongue.' The afflictions of his own people also are numerous, and varied, and dark as the clouds of the sky. But let them not be apprehensive of the result of any of their 68 SABBATH BY THE SEA. sorrows. Are you looking to the future with trembling anxiety ? Does your horizon begin to lower ? Has the storm already gathered, or is it bursting over you ? Fear not. Though clouds and darkness are round about him, mercy and truth go before his face. The Lord maketh these clouds his chariot ; and it is a chariot of love, in which he brings his best gifts, and whence he will pour down upon you his richest blessings. The clouds that water the earth, and cover its surface with fruits, are not more replete with tem- poral advantages to mankind, than are afflictions with spiritual blessings to the people of God. " Jehovah ' walketh upon the wings of the wind.' It must be well known to most, if not to all of you, my brethren, that not only is the wind emblematical of the Spirit of God, but that in both the original languages of Sacred writ, the same word signifies breath, wind, and spirit. How did the Saviour, when about to withdraw his visible presence from his church, promise to supply the loss, and to manifest himself to his people otherwise than unto the world ? Was it not by the agency of his Holy Spirit? That Divine Person himself visits, and brings the Saviour to the soul, in the act of spiritual regene- ration, and in the process of sanctification. * The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it SABBATH BY THE SEA. 69 cometh, and whither it goeth : so is every one that is born of the Spirit.' ' He shall glorify me : for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you/ To souls of stubborn mould, like Saul's, he comes as in the stormy blast. To others, like Lydia's, he comes as in the still small voice. " Redemption also, has purchased and conse- crated the services of angels to the church of Christ. Do they wing their way from the throne of Jehovah, swiftly as the gale or as the lightning's flash ? They come from the great Mediator's foot- stool, and they come on errands of mercy. For, asks the Apostle Paul, * Are they not all minister- ing spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation ? ' What an exalted, as well as encouraging view, does this consideration spread before us, of the condescension and love of God ! The very attendants of his throne — the re- tinue of his court — even these are employed, and delight to be engaged, in ministering to the instruc- tion, the comfort, and the safety of redeemed sinners. Of many, in earlier age, they announced the approaching birth. Of some they have been the visible deliverers from imminent perils. Re- specting all the saints of God, they have a solemn charge, to bear them up in their hands along the slippery or the rugged paths of life, and to trans- port them from the vale of death to the bosom of their Father and their God. Happy spirits, who 70 SABBATH BY THE SEA. excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word ! — those ministers of his that do his pleasure in serving man, their own destined companion in a brighter and better world, where he will be ' nearest the throne and first in song/ and they shall occupy the surrounding circle and take up the chorus of his strain ! " But, dear brethren, we shall have employed our time to little purpose, if we have only given indulgence to our imaginations. A close applica- tion must be made of the truths, which have passed under our notice. "Is the Lord so great — so very great, as he is represented? How low — how very low, then, should be our self-prostration before him ! With what abhorrence should we keep down the pride that would exalt us in our own estimation, and flatter us with a conceit of our own importance, and lure us into a confidence in our own ima- ginary goodness or strength. Lord ! what is man? " Can you, without presumption, say unto him, O Lord, my God ! Never forget — never lose sight of the obligation under which such an acknow- ledgment lays you. 'Thou hast avouched the Lord this day to be thy God, and to walk in his ways, and to keep his statutes, and his command- ments, and his judgments, and to hearken unto SABBATH BY THE SEA. 71 his voice ; and the Lord hath avouched thee this day to be his peculiar people/ But the privilege of this relation is as great and extensive as the obligation. Is the Lord your God — reconciled unto you by the Son of his love ? Then % all things are yours ; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, (the various advantages of the Christian ministry) or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours ! ' For what can you be at a loss, living or dying, if the Lord is your God ? But, on the other hand, have you no such relation to him ? Have you, like rebellious and apostate Israel, made to yourselves ' new gods ' ? Are you living ' without God in the world ' ? O suffer me then to address to you a tender, but faithful word of admonition. As you are without God, so are you ' without hope/ You have nothing which you can call your own, except the dreadful inheritance of wrath and woe. For if God is not your portion in time, heaven, with all its untold joys, cannot be your portion in eternity. There is a Saviour, in and through whom you may regain the lost favour of God, and make the bright rever- sion of glory your own. Have timely recourse to him, and you shall not seek his face in vain. c< Does honour belong unto God ? Have we given him the glory due unto his name ? God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. By name , and profession we are children of light. Let us be **2 SABBATH BY THE SEA. careful to walk in the light, as he is in the light. We cannot be hid. Many eyes are upon us. Would the heir-apparent of an earthly crown often anti- cipate his future greatness, and endeavour, during his minority, to sustain the dignity of his high station ? And shall not we, the children of a king, and the inheritors of a throne, remember our lofty destiny, and walk worthy of him, who hath called us to his kingdom and glory ? Every glance at the pavilion of the skies, and at its magnificent beams of clouds and waves, should remind us of our exalted home, and excite us to set our affec- tions on things above, not on things on the earth. For we are dead, professedly dead to the world, and our life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall we also appear with him in glory. " Brethren, think on these things. Meet every affliction as the chariot of your Saviour, in which he comes to>isit you in mercy. Cherish the voice of his word, and the attendant breathings of his Spirit, for they are tokens of his presence. Aim to live and die as those who have a good hope through grace, that they shall through eternity be associated with angels, in singing, ' with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing, for ever and ever. Amen/ " CHAPTER VIII THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. The sudden illness of a clerical friend, at some distance, requiring the assistance of the minister, there was no second service at the parish church. Our party, therefore, after such a light, Sabbath repast, as refreshes without impeding the natural faculties, met on the road to a neighbouring village, in whose rural temple they hoped again to hear 'the words of this life.' The road lay across one of the lofty hills that formed the valley where the town stood. The heat of a cloudless sun was pleasantly moderated by a breeze from the sea, which spread wider and wider beneath them as they ascended the eminence ; but the beauty of numerous white sails in the offing, was much tar- nished by the reflection, that they were bearing many away from the means of grace, whom a mixture of impiety and superstition, too common 74 THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. to mariners, had induced to choose the holy day of God for commencing their voyage ; or whom the love of pleasure had tempted to profane the day of God. When our pedestrians had advanced about two miles, they descried the little church in a small, deep ravine, whose verdant slope, watered by a rivulet, gradually widened and extended to the shore, and opened a striking view of the ocean between the abrupt hills. ' The sound of the church-going bell' echoed up and down the glen, and was inviting and attracting to the altar of God, numerous groups along every path that led thither. The population of the village was not large, and comparatively few graves undulated the green sod surrounding the sacred edifice. One tomb, with a weeping willow bending over it, remarkable for its simplicity, and still more so for the little history connected with it, usually at- tracted every stranger's eye ; and the inhabitants of the neighbouring cottages took a melancholy pleasure in pointing it out to visitors, and in repeating the artless narrative. It was erected to the memory of a young and newly-married couple, who, having taken up their temporary abode in the vicinity, had been accustomed to resort thither on the Sabbath, to pray and hear the word ; and in the week to gladden the hearts of the cottagers, by their visits, their instructions, and their gifts. A malignant fever, caught in attending a poor THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. 75 sailor, as rapid in its progress as it was fatal in its consequences, laid the bridegroom low. His youthful and lovely bride barely survived him. The same grave, and the same hour, covered them from human view, amidst such a crowd of weeping mourners, as never before assembled on that cousecrated spot. Their modest tomb stands as a memorial of the faith and hope in which they lived and died, and that The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord — is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss : it breaks at every breeze. " My friends," said the Vicar to the sur- rounding group, " how lovely is the life, and how desirable is the death of the righteous ! This epitaph, confirmed by the villagers, and speaking in language not wontedly found on flattering grave-stones, testifies that these young persons died in the Lord. They are, therefore, 'blessed.' Let not our feelings, which now seem excited, evaporate in empty sighs. Let us go into this house of God more disposed than ever, to seek and appropriate to ourselves that Saviour, who is ' the resurrection and the life' of every believer in his name. The hour is coming, when they who sleep in this grave will exultingly hear the voice of the Son of man, and come forth to meet 76 THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. him. May we hail his second advent with equal joy!" They entered the church in good time to com- pose their minds after the fatigue of the walk, and to calm the varied emotions produced by the field of graves, before they accompanied the officiating clergyman to the throne of the heavenly grace. They felt the service to be, as they had ever found it, most admirably adapted to promote the object they had in view ; and that object was communion with God, as penitent children approaching an offended but forgiving parent. By one of those coincidences, which are frequently noticed with surprise and delight, the minister's subject exactly accorded with the impressions made upon their minds previously to their entering the church. His text was selected from St. Peter's former Epistle, the first chapter, and the 24th and 25th verses. " For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass ; the grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away : but the word of the Lord endureth for ever ; and this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you/' Some beautiful passages from Archbishop Leighton's Commentary were quoted and acknowl- edged, which Theophilus, on his return, pointed out to his mother, whom solicitude for the spi- ritual interests of her servants had detained at home. THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. 77 Charles Willoughby wrote these simple lines the following morning, and presented thern to Mrs. Hamilton, while on their way to the beach. THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. No sounds of anguish echo'd round that grave : No forms of terror hover'd o'er that tomb. Was it the murmur of the neighbouring wave, Breathing low dirges o'er their early doom, Who on that spot, in youth — in beauty's bloom, Wither'd, like roses on their fragrant bed ? Was it the echo of their narrow room Beneath our cautious feet, that fear'd to tread With heavy step so near the mansions of the dead ? No : 'twas a voice from heav'n> that softly cried : — ' Write, in the pages of eternal truths Blest are the dead, who have in Jesus died, In age, in manhood, or in tender youth ! They live where life's perennial waters sooth The ransom'd soul to everlasting rest ; — The furrow'd brow of care and sorrow smooth : — The smile of God, " the sunshine of their breast :" — And they who slumber here are thus supremely blest.' The breeze, which erst so gently cool'd our brows, When bending o'er that willow-shaded grave, Was it the fanning of that willow's boughs ? Or was it wafted from the ocean-wave, Where the blue billows, never ceasing, lave The mountain- cliff ? No : 'twas an angel's wing — 78 THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. Their guardian seraph, — station'd there to save And watch their dust : the stirring of his wing Form'd the still air, and touch'd our bosom's tend'rest string. Oft may the young frequent the holy spot, To con the lesson of the silent sod ; And there, this fleeting world awhile forgot, Commune with death, and lift their hearts to God. For lovelier never earth's rough pathway trod, Than they, who underneath that marble lie : Early they bow'd to death's unsparing rod ; He scarcely reach'd the portal of the sky, Before she faded too, and laid her down to die. And oft the fisher will suspend his oar, Or tack his light-sail'd vessel, passing by, As off that grassy cove and sounding shore His village temple greets his tearful eye; And wipe the drop that falls, he scarce knows why. He lov'd them living, and he wept them dead, For they had often still'd his infant's cry, And, seated near his own, or partner's bed, The healing herb supplied, or heav'nly promise read. Then, ere he plies again with heaving breast The dripping oar in ocean's swelling brine, He chides the selfish tear : " For they are blest ! " High in the heav'n of heav'ns like stars they shine; " For they full many a heart — ah ! even mine — " Through gracious aid from high, have turn'd to God. " Saviour ! this stubborn heart and will incline " To follow in the path thy servants trod, Until near them I lie beneath yon hallow'd sod. THE SEA-SIDE TOMB. 79 " Or, should some fatal storm surprise me here, " Whelm my slight bark, and sink me in the deep — " The weeds my winding- sheet — the rock my bier : — " Should I below the wave be doom'd to sleep, — " Oh ! Saviour, even there my ashes keep ; " My spirit welcome to thy glorious seat; " And while surviving friends my lament weep, " Grant me those parents of my soul to meet, And with them prostrate fall adoring at thy feet ! " CHAPTER IX. THE ISLAND, OR THE USES OF THE SEA. A vessel having been engaged for an excursion to a neighbouring island, the Vicar with his family and friends, embarked on Monday morn- ing, and stood out to sea. The breeze was just sufficient to bear them over the waves, which were sufficiently agitated to vary the marine land- scape, without being boisterous. Slight qualms felt by some of the party, gave rise to a playful hilarity in the young people, which soon drew in their elders ; and they ran their eight or ten miles across the pathless element, little conscious of time or distance, till they saw the shore they had quitted far off, and the place of their destination near at hand. It was an island two or three miles in length, and of unequal width, skirted with rocks sometimes rising into cliffs, and covered with scanty verdure. Seasons did occur when a few cattle were brought from the main land, to browse on the dwarf shrubs, and graze the short grass ; but its only regular tenants were innumerable THE ISLAND, OR THE USES OF THE SEA. 81 rabbits and water fowl, who viewed with startled surprise the occasional intruders upon their solitude. Having landed at the only accessible spot, the voyagers clambered up a steep slope, and wandered in several groups over the island, whichever way their fancy led, or wild flowers and other objects allured them. The sea-breeze blew refreshingly around them; the curlew whistled in harmony with the murmuring winds and waters; and, charmed with each others converse and society, and enchanted with the scene, the friends, every now and then, were half disposed to ask, " Belong we to a world of sin and strife ? " Miss Hamilton and Miss Willoughby strayed away from the rest, whom a rising ground con- cealed from view. Louisa was gazing in silent delight upon the ocean. Her companion was at a short distance behind, gathering some botanical specimens to enrich her collection, and as she came near Louisa, she overheard the latter, ejacu- lating, in a low voice : — " How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude !" Miss Willoughby just reached her in time to say, with a cheerful smile, " Allow me to take up the poet's thread, and add, - I But grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper — Solitude is sweet 1 " e2 82 THE ISLAND, OR THE USES OF THE SEA. " You, as well as myself, are partial to Cowper," answered Louisa, " and show some dexterity in quoting him. Perhaps you can help me to recall another passage of the same poem, of which I am reminded by our present situation, and by the sight of some of our party upon the shore. " " I often observe," replied Miss Willoughby, " that there exists a remarkable similarity in our tastes, and in our train of thought. The same objects of sight, and the same sounds, appear simultaneously to attract our notice, and not un- frequently the same recollections and associations are awakened in our minds. But pardon this irrelevant remark, and my delay in complying with your wish. If I mistake not, the lines are these : — Op'ning the map of God's extensive plan, We find a little isle, this life of man : Eternity's unknown expanse appears Circling; around and limiting his years. The busy race examine and explore Each creek and cavern of the dang'rous shore, With care collect what in their eyes excels, Some shining pebbles, and some weeds and shells ; Thus laden, dream that they are rich and great, And happiest he that groans beneath his weight. The waves o'ertake them in their serious play, And every hour sweeps multitudes away ; They shriek and sink, survivors start and weep, Pursue their sport, and follow to the deep. THE ISLAND, OR THE USES OF THE SEA. 83 A few forsake the throng ; with lifted eyes Ask wealth of heav'n, and gain a real prize, Truth, wisdom, grace, and peace like that above, Seal'd with His signet, whom they serve and love : Scorn'd by the rest, with patient hope they wait A kind release from their imperfect state, And unregretted are soon snatch'd away From scenes of sorrow into glorious day." " The very passage ;" rejoined Miss Hamilton, — The great deep seems to mean that vast confluence of waters, which are said to have been gathered together on the third day of the creation, into one place, and were called seas. (Chap. i. 9, 10.) These waters not only extend over a great part of the surface of the earth ; but probably flow, as through a number of arteries and veins, to its most interior recesses, and occupy its centre. This body of waters, which was ordained, as I may say, unto life, was turned, in just displeasure against man's sin, into an engine of destruction. Bursting forth in tremendous floods, it swept multitudes away; while from above, the clouds poured forth their THE FLOOD. 123 torrents, as though heaven itself were a reservoir of waters, and God had opened its windows/ or flood-gates. The Poet of ' The World before the Flood/ has thus described the scene, as from the prophetic lip of Enoch. Jehovah lifts his standard to the skies ; Swift, at the signal, winds and vapours rise ; The sun in sackcloth veils his face at noon, — The stars are quench'd, and turn'd to blood the moon ; Heaven's fountains open, clouds dissolving- roll In mingled cataracts from pole to pole. Earth's central sluices burst, the hills uptorn, In rapid whirlpools down the gulph are borne ; The voice, that taught the deep his voice to know, 1 Thus far, O Sea ! nor farther, shalt thou go/ — Sends forth the floods, commission'd to devour, With boundless licence and resistless power ; They own no impulse but the tempest's sway, Nor find a limit but the light of day. The vision opens : — sunk beneath the wave, The guilty share an universal grave ; One wilderness of water rolls in view, And heav'n and ocean wear one turbid hue ; Still stream unbroken torrents from the skies, Higher beneath the inundations rise ; A lurid twilight glares athwart the scene, Low thunders peal, faint lightnings flash between. Methinks I see a distant vessel ride, A lonely object on the shoreless tide ; Within whose ark the innocent have found Safety, while stay'd Destruction ravens round ; 124 THE FLOOD. Thus, in the hour of vengeance, God, who knows His servants, spares them, while he smites his foes* Montgomery. " But neither pen nor pencil can describe, nor imagination picture the horrors of that tremendous scene. We might ponder over the various cha- racters, and their appropriate feelings, who were then overwhelmed. Probably, no emotions were stronger, or more agonizing than theirs, who had once professed, but subsequently renounced the religion of penitent Adam, of martyred Abel, of devout Seth, of heavenly-minded Enoch, and of believing and obedient Noah. Apostasy has no reserve of consolation for the hour of woe. " We are fully aware, that attempts have been made to invalidate the Mosaic history of the Deluge, as indeed, of every part of the sacred volume, which records the events of the olden time. But God ' hath not left himself without witness/ even in mute nature. When man refuses to God the honour due unto his name and to his word, the very stones are prepared to cry out, to the rebuke of human infidelity and impiety, and to the vindication of the divine glory. We cannot take our seat upon the rocky shore, on the bare moun- tain top, or in the torrent-worn valley, without receiving, from every side, the silent, but forcible testimony of nature to revelation. The Hebrew THE FLOOD. 125 minstrel's song, in which he introduces the hea- venly bodies, declaring the glory of God, and the firmament shewing his handy work, is equally applicable to the huge masses of terrene materials, composing the surface of our globe. ' No speech : no words : their voice is not heard : yet their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.' The organic remains of a former world are so conspicuous as to attract the eye, not merely of the prying naturalist, but even of the roaming school-boy. They are con- stantly thrown up by the shovel of the miner, when he explores the penetralia of the earth ; and cluster beneath the feet of the traveller, when he traverses those mountainous ridges, which with their aspiring summits scale the clouds, and raise the standard of allegiance to God and to his word, against infidel man, in the very citadels of the skies. In the soft, alluvial soil of our vallies and plains, as well as in the indurated piles of our hills and mountains, the Deluge has left its own irrefra- gable testimony. The huge Mammoth preserved in a state of incorruption amidst Siberian snows, and the little Nautilus imbedded in the Andes, speak one silent language — the same with that of the Mosaic record : ' The waters prevailed ex- ceedingly upon the earth, all the high hills that were under the whole heaven were covered.' The te stimonies of earth, therefore, to the truth revealed 126 THE FLOOD. from heaven, are, as the Arabian Patriarch desired his testimony to his Redeemer might be, ' graven as with an iron pen, and lead, in the rock for ever.' As to the futile cavil, that no stock of water could be found sufficient to overflow the earth, to the degree represented by Moses, not to calculate upon the vast quantity of subterranean waters, contained in the interior of the earth, ' it is a rea- sonable supposition, that of the earth's surface two-thirds are seas ; now, if we suppose one com- mon depth to be the tenth part of a mile, we shall find that there is water sufficient to cover the whole globe, to the height of six hundred feet.' 10 The civil history of the world also lends its corro- borative evidence, in the comparatively modern date of the most ancient nations ; in the recent invention of arts and sciences ; and in the tradi- tions which are universally prevalent, no less among savage than among polished heathen nations, respecting an event corresponding with the Mosaic Deluge. H It has been well observed, what an awfully impressive comment on the leading doctrines, as well as leading facts of revelation, does Natural History afford ! Whence could such a calamity originate, but in the will of the Supreme Arbiter of the universe ? And as that will is swayed only 10 Dr. O. Gregory. THE FLOOD. 127 by moral principles, what cause, save moral evil of enormous magnitude, could have drawn down upon the race of men, vengeance so tremendous ? * The universality of this overwhelming convulsion, and the co-extensiveness of the destruction, prove the state of transgression to have been universal. It was not a partial visitation upon a separate por- tion of offenders, like the fiery tempest on Sodom and Gomorrah. It was the descent of avenging justice, to envelope a world lying wholly under the penalty of sin. " By this universal convulsion, shaking the earth to unknown depths, and piling the reliques of the ocean on the summits of the mountains, it is evident that the human race must have been totally extinguished, had not the Creator been pleased, in the midst of judgment, to remember mercy, and by some mode of miraculous inter- ference, or by some specific direction and provision, to preserve certain individuals for the continuation of the race, when the avenging dispensation should have passed away. " The convulsion must have been occasioned, or accompanied, by a tremendous and universal de- luge; by a deluge precisely corresponding with the Scriptural account of the penal flood, for the production of which, the fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened. To overspread the plains of the 128 THE FLOOD. Arctic Circle with the bodies of elephants and rhinoceri, and with the shells of Indian seas ; to accumulate on a single spot, in promiscuous con- fusion, the marine productions of the four quarters of the globe ; what conceivable instrument would be efficacious, but the rush of mighty waters? And, however widely the windows of heaven might be opened; however vast, however persever- ing, might have been the torrents precipitated from the clouds ; to whatever altitude above the summits of the highest mountains the waters might gradually be uplifted, by inexhaustible rains from on high : by what instrumentality were the mighty waters impelled with the force requisite for whirling the spoils of different regions of the earth to their antipodes, but by the breaking up of the fountains of the great deep, by the agency of those commotions, of those explosions, of those disruptions below, which, heaving up the ocean from its profoundest recesses, hurled its billows, with resistless momentum, in every direction round the globe; and shattering and dislocating the superincumbent strata, sought to elevate, even to the level of the pinnacles of the Alps and the Andes, the primeval bed of the seas ? ' "Whether, then, we muse on the sea-shore, and ponder over the mighty instrument before us, by which the globe was desolated ; or in inland scenes pore on the animal and vegetable reliques THE FLOOD. 129 of the primal earth, there treasured up, as in a vast museum, let us not fail to recognize the striking evidence, thus brought home to our own senses, of Jehovah's hatred of sin, and his love of mercy." Charles Willoughby here paused, and, antici- pating some remarks, which were on the lips of more than one of the party, said that he had thrown some further reflections on the flood, con- nected more immediately with the preservation of Noah and his family, into another paper. " I would recommend to our young people/' said the Vicar, " to select and bring together, in a continuous series, such testimonies as they may meet with in their course of reading, to this and other grand Scriptural narratives, whether the evidence is afforded by the historian in his records, by the savage in his traditions, or by the natu- ralist in his researches. The Rev. T. Gisborne, many of whose remarks, I observe, Mr. Charles Willoughby has appropriately quoted, has happily availed himself of these sources of illustration in his valuable little work, entitled ' The Testimony of Natural Theology to Christianity.' " A lively conversation of some length ensued, in which all adduced those testimonies and illustra- tions, which their memories retained from books or from observation, bearing upon the Deluge. g2 130 THE FLOOD, Julia now observed, that she thought the tide had reached its highest point, as she in vain tempted the sportive breakers to pursue her nimbly retiring foot. Every eye was immediately directed to the magin of the flood, to ascertain a fact, which, simple as it was in itself, various circumstances at that moment invested with more than usual in- terest. The mighty channel of the deep was full. The immense mass of waters reposed upon its bed, and while it swelled to its widest limits, under the silver sceptre of the Queen of night, obeyed the still more secret and more potent sway of the God of nature. The spectacle was imposing, grand, and elevating to the mind. Nor less had it a ten- dency to make the contemplator feel his own littleness, and exclaim, as did the Vicar with equal devoutness and simplicity, ** Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him ? and the son of man, that thou visitest him ? " He then added, with considerable animation, " Let us ask, with the eagle-winged prophet of the Elder Zion, — Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand ? and meted out heaven with the span ; and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure ; and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance ? " and " All nations before him are as nothing, and they are counted to him less than nothing, and vanity/' He is no other than Jeho- vah, whose wondrous love towards the children of THE FLOOD. 131 men, has engaged him in the benevolent and astonishing design of elevating the fallen and lost family of earth to the bliss and the glory of heaven. He, of whom these magnificent things are spoken — He feeds his redeemed flock like a shepherd ; He gathers the lambs with his arm, and carries them in his bosom. *! And after all," interposed Mr. Hamilton, " the greatness and the littleness, the majesty and the meanness of man ; the one arising from his primary origin, the divine favour towards him, and his attainable prospects ; and the other spring- ing out of his voluntary fall, his degraded state, and his liabilities to deeper and irretrievable ruin, appear more forcibly contrasted with each other, and with the unmixed majesty of God, in the scheme of redemption, than in the wide field of creation. Each drop from the bleeding cross speaks greater wonders, than all the congregated waters, which are under the firmament and above the firmament. Bound ev'ry heart! and ev'ry bosom burn! O what a scale of miracles is here ! Its lowest round high planted on the skies ! Its tow'ring summit lost beyond the thought Of man or angel I Oh ! that 1 could climb The wonderful ascent with equal praise ! Praise ! flow for ever (if astonishment Will give thee leave) my praise ; for ever How, — 132 THE FLOOD. Praise ardent, cordial, constant, to high heav'n More fragrant than Arabia sacrific'd, And all her spicy mountains in a flame." The conversation taking a somewhat varied turn, and running particularly on the vivid impres- sions made upon the mind, by scenes and events associated with passages of the divine word, Mr. Willoughby observed, " I seldom or never view the waters from an elevated position, but I am reminded of one of my former rambles. The day- resembled this. I had ascended to a considerable height a lofty range of hills, in the county of , and, having tied my horse to a gate, I clambered over into a field, for the purpose of taking a view of the scene, uninterrupted by high banks and hedges. It was in the vicinity of a recently-opened copper mine, and a part of the field was occupied with plats of potatoes, cultivated by the miners. One of these, clad in his mining dress, was hoeing his plants, in an interval of his subterranean labours. There was an air of intel- ligence, common among men of this class, mixed with sadness in his countenance, which drew my attention towards him. Strangers soon manifest the social propensities of our nature, when they meet each other in solitude. The poor are ever communicative when their superiors meet them with kindness and condescension ; and two human THE FLOOD. 133 beings, however great their disparity in rank, can scarcely be thrown together, without affording each other an opportunity of mutual information and improvement. We entered into friendly chat respecting his employment. After making some inquiries, which my curiosity dictated, and which the man's frankness readily answered, I alluded to the personal danger of mining. He allowed that it had its dangers, and stated, that he had known many lose their lives by falling down the shafts. I said, ' My friend, have you ever seriously re- flected on the peril of your soul, lest, by such a sudden death, you should fall lower than the grave ? * He paused from his employment, rested upon his hoe, arid remained for some moments buried in reflection. At last he looked up. The sea was before us at the foot of the hills, and per- haps this circumstance, in part, suggested the language of his answer. ' Sir/ he replied, ' I am no stranger to the truths of religion. Once, I think, I was no stranger to the power and enjoy- ments of religion. But I have lost both. I am very wretched. The leading persons in the little company of Christians with whom I associated, fell into sin, and I followed them. First my heart grew cold, and then my life became careless, and at last irreligious. I have a wife — .' He stopped for a moment, and I said, ' Perhaps she has been your snare.' 'No:' he rejoined, with much 134 THE FLOOD. emotion, ' she is the best of women. Her exam- ple is my constant reproach. Were I like her it would be well. Then had my peace been as a river, and my righteousness as the waves of the sea f ' "I endeavoured to enter fully into this poor backslider's case. Without attempting to ex- tenuate his guilt, or to lessen his own sense of its enormity, I strove to encourage his return to Him, who with ineffable compassion has left these re- markable words upon record, and specifically for men of his character. " O Israel, return unto the Lord thy God ; for thou hast fallen by thine ini- quity. — I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely : for mine anger is turned away from him." I then placed a suitable tract in his hand ; and, while he warmly thanked me for my counsel, I mounted my horse and resumed my ride." " We owe you our acknowledgments," said Louisa to Mr. Willoughby, " for this admonitory incident; and now, perhaps, Mr. Charles will favour us with his reserved remarks on the pre- servation of the Patriarch of the Flood." " I can with difficulty hesitate for one moment to comply with a request so kindly made ; " answered Charles, " but my sister has hinted to me, that our friend Theophilus has written some lines, which may, with great propriety, be introduced here." THE FLOOD. 135 Theophilus, with a smile, cheerfully produced what he had written ; and, not being allowed to make the apologies which were ready upon his lips, read his humble performance to his listening and indulgent friends. THE LAST ANTEDILUVIAN. One mountain rock in lonely grandeur stood, Majestically peering o'er the flood ; Long dar'd the assailing deep around defy, And brav'd the thund'ring torrents of the sky : Too far above the accustom'd flight of wing, To be th' abode of any living thing. Yet in that hour of woe, when fear inspir'd Hope beyond hope, and reckless courage fir'd, Two parent eagles, while the whirlwind roar'd, On weary pinions to the height had soar'd, Bearing their callow brood, and then through air, O'er the wide waste of waters yell'd despair. And one of human form, the last and worst Of that devoted race, by God accurs'd, On vent'rous foot had scal'd the trackless height, Nor scar'd the prey-birds to their wonted flight. Terror had tam'd them : for their glaring eyes Shrank daunted from the lightning-riv'n skies. In tow'ring pride — his haughty soul untam'd, fc Though heavVs artillery round his forehead flam'd— He stood and smil'd — a smile of demon hate, Caught from the lake, where fetter'd legions wait Jehovah's final wrath. Of giant mould, Nor less than giant guilt, he fiercely roll'd 136 THE FLOOD. His eye, that bash'd the flutt'ring eagle's glare, Nor hope implied, nor yet betray'd despair. Nine centuries of years had shed their snow, Of fleecy whiteness, on his ample brow : Still had they left the strength of manhood's prime, Though mark'd with care, yet unimpair'd by time. Irad his name — not he" of Cain's dark seed — Of fairer origin, and purer creed. He oft had wond'ring seen, in early years, Mankind's first parents' penitential tears : From their own lips had heard, and wept the while, Of Evil's fatal tree, of Satan's guile, Of Eden lost, the Cherub's flaming brand, And their sad wand'rings o'er earth's thorn-curs'd land. He too the field where Abel bled had trod ; Had seen the father of the men of blood, — Had mark'd the branded curse upon his front, That never yielded to the purging font. Enos had watch'd o'er Irad's infancy ; Had taught in pray'r to bow his supple knee, — His infant tongue to lisp Jehovah's name, His youthful hand to raise the altar's flame. And he, like some fair tree in shelter'd vale, That blooms unblasted by the northern gale, Gave the full promise of a fruitful age — Guide of the young — companion of the sage. Oft from his bosom burst the mournful sigh ; Oft fill'd with gushing tears his brilliant eye ; And oft, as though enkindled from above, Glow'd in his breast the flame of gen'rous love 11 Gen.iv.18. THE FLOOD. 137 To God and his ; and o'er his melting soul Seraphic transports seem'd at times to roll. From Enoch's face, that radiated light — Light not of earth — soft beaming on the sight, Irad appear'd to catch a kindred ray, As on his ear the Prophet pour'd his lay — The rapt'rous tale of converse high with heav'n, His walk with God, and views of future given : But saw him not, when Seraphs bore away The deathless Seer to the realms of day ; Nor watch'd, his falling mantle to obtain. In evil hour he sought the tents of Cain. The 12 daughters of the sons of men were fair, And Irad rush'd into the silken snare. Then giant strength inspir'd the love of fame : He panted for the mighty's blazon'd name. 13 Then scorn of peaceful arts — then lust of pow'r Seiz'd every thought, and busied ev'ry hour : Pray'r, and the bleating lamb, were heard no more, Off'rings of pride alone his altar bore. 14 With haughty gait the martial plain he trod : The world his portion, now became his God. Soon gave his mind ambitious projects birth, That fill'd with violence 15 the groaning earth. Myriads of saints in martyr-chariots fled, And left their ashes in the grave's cold bed. The earth was Irad's, save one narrow strand, Where Noah dwelt, the jest of ev'ry land. Him Irad's scorn, but not his pity spar'd, As oft his keen, sarcastic lip declar'd. 12 Gen. vi. 2. 13 Gen. vi. 4. u Gen. iv. 3. 5. 14 Gen. vi. 11. 138 THE FLOOD. " See, where the dotard rears yon bulky mass ! " Well, let the hoary fool unheeded pass. " A noble pyre ! — and noble victims too ! " Our kindling brands shall prove the Prophet true ! " Where is the promise of His coming ?— Where ? " Earth and the skies continue as they were. " Then let the driv'ller preach, and weep, and pray ; " Ours be the pleasures of the live-long day. " This world enough for us : — the next we leave " To the few fools that tremble and believe!" His lie was now his faith — his wish his creed : So has the righteous will of heav'n decreed Th' apostate's doom, to credit his own lie, And, bound in strong delusion, 16 live and die. Thus Irad fill'd the measure of his pride, Till rode the Ark upon the rising tide. He saw the window' d heav'ns outpour their rains — The swelling waters flood the golden plains : — Then he believ'd — but with relentless scorn ! He left his race despairing and forlorn. He heard no cry — he stretch'd no hand to save His wife and offspring from the gorging wave. He fled o'er hill and dale, from height to height, And soon outstripp'd the vulture in her flight, That staid to raven on the corse-swoll'n tide, Till glutted to the full, she sank and died. Now, on that lonely top, sublime he stands Like some tall Pharos peering o'er the lands ; Folds Ins gigantic arms upon his breast, And calms his leaping arteries to rest. He knows not fear : nor hope desires to know : Content to have surviv'd the world below : 16 2 Thess. ii. 11. THE FLOOD. 139 Content to have outliv'd his friends and foes : This soothes his raging passions to repose. Firm as the rock beneath his rooted feet, Unmov'd he feels the billows round him beat, Nor bends his pillar'd neck, or tow'ring head, Till vengeance smites, and hurls him to the dead ! Earth's last convulsive throe subverts the rock, And whelms the giant Irad with the shock. He, the last victim of just Heav'n's dread ire ! Behold ! the sated floods of wrath retire ! CHAPTER XIII THE ARK. Charles, having observed that he had cast his thoughts into a rather different form from his former paper, to relieve them of the formality of consecutive reflections, at the request of the party, proceeded to read what he had written, on THE AEK. " At an early hour I found myself the first rambler on the shore. The tide was at its ebb, and a vessel, which it had left upon the strand, together with the distance of the waters, the silence of the morning, and the recollection of my meditations on the preceding night, called up before my mind the Scripture memorials of the Patriarch Noah. The annals of that Patriarch present a sort of Oasis in the moral desert of the Antediluvian History, when ' God looked upon the earth : and behold it was corrupt : for all flesh had corrupted his way upon the earth.' This was the only spot on which Jehovah's eye rested THE ARK. 141 with complacency, and where angels lingered in their visits to our earth. ' Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord/ ' He was a just man ; and perfect in his generations : and Noah walked with God.' But whence did it arise, that the arid sands of the surrounding desert, driven, as they were, in every direction, by the 'violence' that prevailed in the earth, did not overwhelm this single spot? Where was the source of those waters, which preserved its beauty and fertility in the midst of general barrenness ? That naturally Noah was in no respect superior to others^ was sufficiently evinced by his subsequent history. He found mercy, that is, sparing mercy with God, because he was a righteous man : but he was a righteous man, because he had previously found regenerating and preventing mercy with God. For, as the Tenth Article most clearly and scrip- turally states, ' The condition of man, after the fall of Adam, is such, that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good works, to faith and calling upon God. Wherefore we have no power to do good works, pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God, by Christ, preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us when we have that good will.' " Noah was a j ust or righteous man, and the first so called since the fall, though many had 142 THE ARK. stood on a level with him in the generations which had now passed away. In the legal and primary sense of the term, none of human birth have been righteous, no not one, except the first Adam before he sinned, and the second Adam throughout the whole of his unsinning course. Noah's was the righteousness of faith, the righte- ousness which was imputed to him as a believer in the promises of God, especially as those pro- mises centred in the Saviour. Of this he gave abundant evidence in the general tenor of his life ; but the master proof was his prompt obedience to the unparalleled command of God, when, * being warned of God, of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, he prepared an Ark, to the saving of his house.' To revert, for a moment, to the doctrine in which we all are individually interested, a believer is righteous, or justified in the sight of God, through the righteousness of our blessed Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ : and he is righteous, or justified in the sight of man, through the obe- dience of faith, or the holy conduct which proceeds from faith. Nor was the Patriarch one of those numerous doubtful characters, whose ambition it seems to be, to create a neutral ground, where they may take their stand, and fortify themselves against the evils and trials contingent on decidedly embracing the side of either of the two great parties into which men are divided. He was ' a THE ARK. 143 perfect man.' He had not the perfection of in- nocence, but the perfection of a truly regenerate soul, which consists in sincerity and soundness of character, as contra-distinguished from the hollowness of hypocrisy; and in that firm and established consistency, which constitutes the maturity of moral excellence. None hesitated respecting the part which Noah would take, on any and on every occasion that might call for a display of principle. But that which formed the crown of Noah's character was, that c he walked with God.' Like Milton's oft-adduced example of solitary fidelity, amidst general apostasy, the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he ; Among innumerable false, unmoved, Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrifiedj His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; Nor number, nor example, with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, Though single. " When all else had apostatized, and lived i without God in the world, Noah maintained 3 communion with heaven, by cultivating a de- i votional spirit, by a life of faith, and by an evident aim, in all things, to conform himself to the divin e will. * Thus did Noah : according to all that God commanded him, so did he,' 144 THE ARK. re, m " The principles of acceptable obedience, are, i all cases, essentially the same; while the particular course of events which calls those principles into exercise, may be widely distinguished from the ordinary tenor of human life. Of this kind was the path which Noah was required to pursue, and he followed it unhesitatingly, and without deviation. He believed, and he obeyed. His faith produced a holy, filial fear of God, under the influence of which he prepared an Ark, to the saving of his house. " The Ark was a gigantic building, computed to be equal to forty of our largest ships of the line, and it was probably the first vessel that ever navigated the waters. What an undertaking, single handed, in the midst of an infidel world ! It was rendered still more remarkable by the length of time spent in the erection, for this exceeded a century. Noah's faith was to be kept in exercise as long as the forbearance of Jehovah should last towards a corrupt world. His mind was sustained, and the supernatural strength and wisdom with which he was endued, and the mi- raculous imperishableness of his work, were all auxiliary to his faith. God honoured the simple faith and prompt obedience of his servant, as he afterwards dealt with Abraham, by informing him of his purposes : ' Behold I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, THE ARK. 145 wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven, and every thing that is in the earth shall die. But with thee will 1 establish my covenant : and thou shalt come into the Ark ; thou, and thy sons, and thy wife, and thy sons' wives with thee/ Noah gladly accepted the covenant, and doubtless regarded it as a confirmation of the first covenant made with fallen man. It is highly probable that he was instructed to look upon the Ark in the same light as we ourselves do, even as typical of the great Deliverer of man from the fiery, and never-subsiding deluge of divine wrath : for he, equally with the believer of the present dispensa- tion, became ' heir of the righteousness which is by faith : ' and if the types of the Patriarchal and Mosaical dispensations were designed, as we find they were, ' for our admonition' and instruction, ' upon whom the ends of the world are come/ we cannot suppose that the very persons to whom they were primarily proposed, were left uninformed respecting their purport. I often admire the in- troduction in our Baptismal service, of St. Peter's allusion 17 to the typical character of Noah's pre- servation in the Ark, and the prayer, that the subject of Christian baptism ' may be received into the ark of Christ's Church, and may so pass the waves of this troublesome world, that finally he 17 1 Pet. iii. 18. 146 THE ARK. may come to the land of everlasting life, — through Jesus Christ our Lord.' The little, unconscious recipient of baptism is thus committed to the care of the Good Shepherd, as were the unconscious subjects of Noah's guardianship to his care, to be trained for a future world amidst the tumults and perils of the present. " Many of the typical features of that event have been beautifully sketched by the Rev. T. T. Biddulph, in the 23d Letter of his ' Theology of the Early Patriarchs/ — a work, not more dis- tinguished for depth of research and Biblical erudition, than for its vivid practical illustrations, and rich spiritual improvement of many important, though generally neglected portions of divine revelation. " The Lord Jesus Christ, « like the Ark of Noah, passed through the waters of a deluge, a deluge of divine wrath, occasioned by sin, which must have proved destructive to all mankind, had not his mediation been provided, and which will prove destructive to all who are not in him, the only Ark of safety. But the Ark outlived the deluge, and rested at length, with its refugees within it, on Mount Ararat. In like manner, the Saviour rose from the many waters which threatened to overwhelm him, and will prove an Ark of salvation to all who believe in his name, by landing them in safety on Mount Zion. There seems to be some- THE ARK. 147 thing still further and deeper in the mystery of redeeming love, implied by this analogy. The deluge of water which drowned the world, and threatened with destruction the Ark which rode triumphantly over its billows, was itself the means of security to Noah and his family, by bearing that impenetrable structure on its tumultuated surface. The waves dashed against the typical Ark, and doubtless often ran over it ; but they could not sink it. Thus the wrath of God, which will overwhelm all who are out of Christ, and which spent itself on Him without submerging Him, because his person was divine, and his atone- ment all-sufficient for the satisfaction of divine justice, is itself overruled to promote the salvation of sinners who believe in him. * All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.' God caused to * meet on him the iniquity of us all.' He was made answerable for our guilt ; and by that act of infinite justice, a way was made for the revela- tion of mercy in the justification of the guilty.' " Sin was the cause of both the typical and anti- typical salvation, provided by the mercy of God. The contrivance and efficient application of the appointed means, in each case, were the result of divine wisdom and power ; and those means were perfectly adapted to their end. The Ark was sufficiently capacious to receive, and competently framed to secure all, who were designed, and who 148 THE ARK. were willing to become its occupants. ' The anti- typical Ark is so capacious, that all who will may find admission into it; and it is built of such materials that it will outlive every storm, and in- fallibly secure its inhabitants from every danger that otherwise awaited them. The door is now open, and the ' preacher of righteousness/ even of ' the righteousness which is by faith/ is com- missioned to continue the proclamation, that ' yet there is room ; ' and that our Ark is sufficiently capacious and strong, ' to save to the uttermost' all who flee to its shelter. — The assemblage of creatures, who were admitted into the Ark of Noah, may fitly represent the various characters of those who find salvation in our Lord Jesus Christ. Some of all sorts were received. Animals, clean and unclean, found a refuge there. — None were rejected by Noah, on account of their nature, or previous qualities and instincts. The door was set open ; and the lion and the bear received as hearty a welcome, as comfortable accommodation, and as full security, as the useful ox or the harm- less sheep. Thus, in Christ Jesus, all who are cordially disposed to seek salvation in his name, are equally welcome to it, and are sure of obtain- ing it. — The influence by which Noah's refugees were collected in the Ark, is the same with that by which sinners are gathered to Jesus Christ. Jn both cases the power of God is exerted. — ' No THE ARK. 149 man can come unto me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him : ' and ' all that the Father hath given me shall come to me.' " ' The different manner in which the various animals must have come to Noah for admission to his Ark, may also afford us an instructive lesson. While the antelope and the eagle, instigated by their newly-acquired instinct, hastened rapidly to their new habitation, the snail and the sloth may be supposed to have made their removal thither a very tedious journey. Yet all who were drawn, at length came, and were saved. So some among those whom the Spirit of God awakens to a con- cern about salvation, impelled by fear or won by love, concur at once in the gospel proposal, and fly without delay to the cross, and are saved. While others, from a variety of natural character, or obstacles interposed by circumstances of educa- tion, station in life, or relative connexion, are more tardy in their spiritual motions, and are long before they arrive where only peace and safety can be found.' " Time and space would fail us in an attempt to describe the many other striking analogies, between the Ark of Noah, and the Ark of Christ's Church: or, we might, with much entertainment and profit, descant upon both being kept open till the last participant of saving mercy reached the door ; upon the inevitable destruction of all who 150 THE ARK. comply not with the divine command, * Come thou into the Ark ; ' upon the change effected in the dispositions of all who enter ; upon the rich provision made for their various and numerous wants ; and upon the dismay which followed the Lord's descent to the Ark of Noah, when he ' shut him in/ as preflgurative of the terror which will convulse the miserable souls who will ulti- mately be excluded from heaven. Imagination loves to linger with the venerable navigator of the flood, during the last hours which he spent with a world which his faith and example ' condemned/ while his prayers and his entreaties sought to save. How, as he walked along the shores of the sea, did he mingle his tears with its waters, and bur- thened the breezes with his heavy sighs, breathed over the destinies of the millions around him ! H I have looked back upon the last day of the antediluvian world. I have pictured to myself terror and despair seated upon the rising flood, and advancing onward with every wave, which swept away successive and receding multitudes. If the impending stroke of wrath gave them time for reflection, were they not as much ' amazed at the strangeness of his salvation,' whose ' course was directed ' by divine wisdom, ' in a piece of wood of small value// 8 as at 'the strangeness' 16 Ecclus, x. 4. THE ARK. 151 of their own destruction ? Did not ' they, repent- ing and groaning for anguish of spirit, say within themselves, This was he, whom we had sometimes in derision, and a proverb of reproach : we fools ac- counted his life madness, and his end to be without honour : how is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints ! ' 19 " I have reviewed that most memorable year of Noah's life, spent with the scanty remnant of the world, upon the widest ocean upon which the sun of our system ever shone. What a season then presented itself for the examination and im- provement of personal and family religion ! How great was the trial of their faith, when, even after the waters had prevailed for forty days upon the earth, and had risen twenty-two feet and a half above the highest mountains, it continued at that height for one hundred and fifty days longer ! But there was the same power to sustain their faith amidst a deluge of tumultuous thoughts, as to preserve the floating machine amidst the storms and waves. The mighty hand of God, which brings his people into difficulties, for the display of his glory and for the advancement of their con- formity to his image, can and will afford competent support and guidance. We may be disposed to conclude, that our trial has reached its acme, and 19 Ecclus. v. 3, 4, 5. 152 THE ARK. fully accomplished its end ; and to wonder at, if not to question, the wisdom or necessity of its lengthened duration. But, as Noah could not see to the bottom of the flood, and observe the vast operations there going on in the outer crust of the earth ; so neither can we fathom the providence of God, or discern the ends which he is accom- plishing. It is our wiser part to stand with the Patriarch and the Apostle, to admire, adore, and submit to what we cannot understand. ' O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and know- ledge of God J How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !' " ' And God remembered Noah, and every living thing that was with him in the ark.' A strong, dry wind dispersed the clouds, and ' the waters assuaged.' * The fountains also of the deep, and the windows of heaven were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained ; and the waters returned from off the earth continually.' The vials of wrath had now poured their last drop upon our guilty world. The holocaust offered to Infinite Justice had appeased the divine anger; and the cheering beams of the sun, which for twelve whole months had been veiled from the earth, once more broke forth, and symbolized the return of Jehovah's favour. While we here peace- fully watch the ebbing tide, we may let loose our imagination upon the retreat of that spring-tide THE ARK. 153 of wrath, which had now accomplished its tremen- dous errand, and retired, never to resume its desolating sway. We seem to realize all the emotions of the surviving family, when, with a gentle shock, the Ark grounded upon the summit of Ararat ; when they ' opened the window of the Ark,' and descried the tops of the mountains emerging from the subsiding deluge ; and when they beheld the plastic waters moulding into those renovated forms which they still retain, the hills, the valleys, and the plains, as they retreated to the place appointed them. We watch the first wings that fanned the tranquillized atmosphere ; the raven flying to and fro, till the waters were dried up ; the dove, with characteristic timidity, return- ing to the Ark, at first with the flutterings of fear, and then with the olive-leaf plucked offin its green- ness and youth from the reviving parent stem, and subsequently taking her farewell of her tem- porary refuge, and inviting her protectors to follow, and survey with her the renewed earth. I hear the voice of Jehovah, calling forth the parents of the new world, to take possession of their ransomed inheritance. I witness, with delight, the joy of the liberated animals, when they again find them- selves at liberty ; the wilder kinds darting through the air, or across the plains ; and the more domestic species lingering, and beginning to seek their food in the vicinity of man. I observe the more intel- h 2 154 THE ARK. ligent gladness of the four human pairs, as they more leisurely relinquish their friendly hiding- place ; while sensations of mingled gratitude and joy, or of solemnity and holy fear, alternately quicken or retard their steps. They probably dis- cern a very considerable alteration in the state of the earth. Though its reviving verdure affords to their eyes a grateful refreshment, after a year's estrangement from every thing of the kind, yet they cannot but notice, that the globe is not what it was. The floods, in their rapid descent, have swept many an extensive region of its pristine and fruitful soil, and left it barren. The earthquake attendant upon the breaking up of the fountains of the great central deep, has left awful traces of its desolating fury, and thrown the once far more majestic and sublime ramparts of the earth into comparative disorder and ruin. The disorganized rock now lifts its seared and leafless peak where formerly waved the spreading cedar and the lofty pine : and where was wont to wave the rich, golden harvest, that nourished a race which numbered its years, not by decades, but by centuries, now undulates the barren sand beneath the hot blast of the very nostrils of death. It does not escape my notice, that they bring with them unto the exter- nally renewed world a consciousness of guilt, and still inherent evil. No offerings had been pre*- sented to God in the Ark, but those of prayer and THE ARK. 155 praise : and their first act upon the exsiccated soil, is to * build an altar unto the Lord.' The consecrated erection smokes with a holocaust of every kind of clean beast and fowl, kindled by approving fire from heaven. ' The Lord smelled a sweet savour/ and accepted it, through the an- ticipated virtue of the greater sacrifice of which it was typical. Ephes. v. 2. I hear the renewal and enlargement of the covenant of grace ; and when I stand upon these mighty cliffs, that never since have bowed beneath the wave, and to whose hoary aspect our beloved Albion owes its name, T set my seal to the faithfulness of the divine pro- mise, that ' while the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease.' " This concluding remark elicited a pleasant interchange of observations between the elders of the party, to which the juniors listened with evident interest, till the whole of them rose, to lengthen their walk, by a circuitous route, home- ward. Mrs. Hamilton claimed the pleasure of receiving her friends in the evening, and after the business of the tea-table was dispatched, Miss Willoughby read a brief obituary, which she had written down from memory, and which she re- ceive4 from the lips of a friend, personally acquainted with the circumstances. CHAPTER XIV. THE INVALID. " Eliza was in vain conveyed by her tender and anxious friends, from scene to scene. The soft air of the southern coast of Devon but partially revived her sinking frame, or retarded the progress of disease during the winter ; and when the sum- mer succeeded, it was but a transient invigoration that resulted from a visit to the more bracing coast of the north. She received and yielded to all the plans suggested and carried into effect for her benefit, but it was with a smile, which, while it testified her gratitude, betrayed her settled con- viction, that, to use her own expression, ' it was not in the change of seasons, or of scenes, to renew her health.' When at S , she twice, by her own earnest desire, attended divine service. She had not been in the house of the Lord for many months, and those were the last hours she ever spent in his earthly courts. The sermon which she heard in the morning, was very unsatisfactory. It contained but one solitary reference to that THE INVALID. 157 e name, which is above every name.' A relative, who accompanied Eliza to church, lamented this deficiency, particularly on her account, who had been so long debarred from the public means of grace; and further added some valuable remarks, on the great importance of having the pulpits of places resorted to for the benefit of health, occu- pied by clergymen, whose example and whose sermons, alike tend to lead the affections away from a vain and transient world, with its cares and its follies, to that Saviour, who is health to the sick, comfort to the mourner, and life to the dead. Eliza replied, ' I fully concur with you in sentiment, and deplore the too frequent strain of discourses heard at public watering-places, which, like that of the Preacher this morning, contain far more of the dry ethics of the schools, than of the dewy 20 doctrines of inspiration. But, as it respects myself, I have so richly enjoyed the devo- tional- services of the morning, that I leave the sanctuary refreshed and edified. Perhaps I never before entered so deeply into the spirit of our in- comparable Liturgy. It seemed to breathe the very spirit of filial contrition, approaching a most tender and relenting Father, as able to bless as he is willing to forgive.' " It was not very long after this, that she was 40 Deut. xxxii. 2. 158 THE INVALID. admitted into the heavenly courts of the Lord, and was numbered with the children of his family, who are redeemed from the earth. Her religious history had been remarkable, and contained some facts worthy of being placed on record. " Eliza was nursed in the lap of wealth and in- dulgence, and personally knew as little of the sorrows of human life, as she felt of the storms which she viewed from the secure shelter of her father's mansion. She received an education suited to her sex and rank, and after its comple- tion, moved with her parents in the highest circle of society around them. The world had few, if any sources of pleasure which were not within her reach. In person she was attractively beautiful ; in disposition she was most lovely ; and in mental endowments she was highly cultivated. Her na- tural taste led her away from ephemeral works of fiction, to the pursuit of real and solid knowledge, such as is attainable by deep reflection, by accurate research, and by the perusal of standard writers on the various branches of general literature. The too common and frivolous pursuits of her sex and age, were, to her refined and elevated mind, debas- ing and revolting ; and though, in compliance with the wishes of her family, and with the customs of society, she mingled with others in gay and festive scenes, those scenes had no hold upon her heart, and she gladly withdrew from them, while she THE INVALID. 159 concealed the satiety, and even disgust which they frequently produced. Her enjoyments were all highly intellectual. Cheerful without folly, and wise without pedantry, she was at once the charm and the lesson of the domestic and social sphere. But while she moved in that sphere, the object of general admiration and love, she mentally lived in a world of her own, the creation of fancy, — not the fancy which enervates the heart, but a vivid ima- gination, peopled with the great and the good of other times. Her's was of the class of contempla- tive minds depicted in ' The progress of genius ; ■ which, scorning alike the writers and the pursuits that ' snare and stupify the mind,' and retiring into intellectual communion with kindred spirits, thus hold converse with their favourite authors : — Hail, ye mighty masters of the lay, Nature's true sons, the friends of man and truth ! Whose song, sublimely sweet, serenely gay, Amus'd my childhood, and inform'd my youth. O let your spirit still my bosom sooth ; Inspire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide ! Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth ; For well I know, wherever ye reside, There harmony, and peace, and innocence abide. " But on one department, and that the most ample and the most important of true wisdom, Eliza had bestowed only a superficial attention. This was 160 THE INVALID. the knowledge of God. Not that of her it might be pronounced, as of many, ( God was not in all her thoughts.' On the natural and moral attri- butes of ' the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity/ she could even rapturously dwell. But she contemplated God only as the Deity, whom reason seats on the throne of the universe, and whom imagination clothes with mysterious ma- jesty. Of ' the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ,' not one ray had beamed upon her soul. The light that was in her was darkness. Yet was there in this ' Unknown God,' whom, like the Athenians, she * ignorantly worshipped,' so great and so attrac- tive a glory, that she often lost herself in delightful meditation upon his supreme excellences. Nay, more ; innumerable as were her natural ties to life, she longed — ardently longed for death. With no consciousness of sin to point the sting of death, and with no fear concerning her acceptance in the sight of Infinite Purity, she considered the mortal change nothing more than a short, dark passage to realms of unclouded light ; and eagerly desired to die, that she might behold, and be eternally ab- sorbed in the Great Eternal Mind, whom she venerated, adored, and loved. How many live and die under the delusive, though fascinating influence of a religion like Eliza's, compounded of self-esteem and false notions of Him, whose name THE INVALID. 161 and whose nature are Holy ! It is truly astonish- ing to observe, as we often may, reflective and inquisitive minds, even when closely and con- stantly surrounded by the institutions of the gospel, and from childhood familiarized to the narrative of its facts, and the reiteration of its doctrines, resting in a species of refined, though unconscious Deism. " With a character formed of these peculiar habits and dispositions, Eliza arrived at the acme of youth, richly gifted with every personal charm and every intellectual endowment, when an event occurred, which, in the marvellous arrangements of Divine Providence, turned the whole tenor of her future life. On her return from the house of God, one Sabbath day, she entered a room where a copy of the Bible lay open upon the table. In a moment of ennui, Eliza looked into the sacred and hitherto neglected volume. The part at which it was open, was the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. The contents assumed an interest to which she had previously been a stranger, and she gave the whole writings of the Prophet an eager perusal. She felt astonished at her own ignorance of what now appeared to her the finest traits of genius, and the sublimest strains of poetry. Much that had formerly attracted her admiration, and even enthu- siastic attachment in merely human authors, was traced to its true source. It was not long before 162 THE INVALID. she gave the book a second, and still more attentive reading. But her impressions now began to wear a new character. Her reflections were these : * Here, indeed, is all the pathos, the beauty, the sublimity of the most exquisite poesy. Here have the muses of the human lyre gathered flowers and garlands for their own brows. But this is not all. Here is something more than poetry — something more than the purest intellectual taste either seeks or desires. A mysterious thread runs through the whole, which I can just trace, but for the nature and origin of which I cannot account/ These reflections left impressions, more and more vivid and deep at every succeeding perusal, and at length occasioned a degree of mental uneasiness, to her altogether unprecedented. * What,' Eliza asked herself, ' can be the cause of this disquie- tude ? A disquietude, of which I never before have been conscious, and which is augmented at every page I turn over in this wonderful volume ! But it claims its original from the God of nature. Beyond a doubt, He will assist me in the under- standing of his own revelation. I will humbly and earnestly seek his aid.' Eliza bent her knee at the footstool of God, and it was the first time that she ever approached it with any measure of genuine humility. Now she felt ignorant, and desired instruction ; and, coming in the posture of a learner, and not of one self-confidently wise, she THE INVALID. 163 was added to the incalculable number, who have found the truth of the declaration, ' The meek will He guide in judgment ; and the meek will He teach his way.' " Thus assisted from above, by the gracious operation of the Holy Spirit, and, like Lydia, having her heart opened to attend to the things which were spoken or written by the servants of the Lord, Eliza soon had her soul filled with light, peace, and joy. The various and intimately con- nected truths of the gospel were adjusted into one harmonious system, and diffused an influence over her heart, which rendered her a new creature. The fabric of her spiritual pride crumbled into dust at the foot of the cross. All her fine talents were humbly laid as free-will offerings upon the altar of God. Her naturally amiable dispositions, which formerly had all the beauty of the lunar iris, now glowed with all the warm and brilliant radiance of the solar rainbow. The love of Christ became the mildly, but effectually constraining principle of her life, which was lengthened only to the time when her newly-formed character seemed to reach its consummation. Then, like fruit whose outward substance begins to decay as soon as the seed is ripe, her youthful and beautiful form began to fade and waste, beneath the subtle bane of her native land. Consumption, gradual in its progress, and mild in its agency, brought 164 THE INVALID. her to the grave, or rather, to ' the bosom of her Father and her God/ Her mind, however, retained all its vigour to the last; and animated, as she was, with new fire from above, and having had her lips, as it were, touched with a living coal, from the same altar as her favourite Isaiah, she adorned her profession, and threw around her path, even as an invalid, a lustre which seemed to belong more to heaven than to earth. Eliza is now with her God, adoring the sovereign grace, which did not leave her to perish in her former specious, but fatally erroneous views of the state of human nature, and of the divine nature. 'O Lord ! give me understanding, according to thy word.* Ps. cxix. 169." CHAPTER XV. THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. The two families had no intercourse on the subsequent day. Mr. Willoughby, however, on retiring to rest rather earlier than usual in the evening, placed in his daughter's hands, a paper, which she read to her brothers, and sometime afterwards lent to Julia Hamilton. I am not prone," said Mr. W. to Caroline, " to obtrude the secrets of my heart upon the notice of others. The ordinary tenor of our religious experience better remains unknown, except to God and to ourselves. ' The heart knoweth his own bitter- ness, (or the bitterness of his soul;) 21 and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy/ But seasons do occur, when we may with advantage communicate our spiritual joys and sorrows to those who are likely to sympathize with us, and to derive benefit from the communication. I am thankful, my dear girl, that I can often place this 21 Prov. xiv. 10. Margin. 166 THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. confidence in you and your brothers. You may read this paper to them, and make any further use of it you please. A slight degree of indisposition leads me to bid you good night an hour before our regular time. May God bless you, and keep you." THE ATONEMENT. " It was ' a day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds, and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains/ My eye caught no glimpse of heaven. I wandered forth, alone and in sadness, amongst the rugged rocks which skirt a distant part of the shore, and yielded my mind to reflections of a character correspondent with the scene. But, correspondent as that scene was with the state of my soul, I soon perceived that it was not the cause of my depression. This had its rise within. In vain did I alternately recline upon a low crag, and listen to the roaring billows and the whistling curlew, or pace to and fro the intervals between the rocks, endeavouring to throw off the sorrow which mantled round my soul. At length I seated myself, and resolved to examine into the source of mv uneasiness. Like David, I repeatedly put the self-scrutinizing question — e Why art thou cast down, O my soul ; why art thou disquieted within me ? ' THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. 167 " I found that our recent reflections upon the seventeenth century of the world had left upon my mind a most weighty sense of the holiness of God, the evil of sin, and the extent and inveteracy of human depravity. I saw myself involved, and that as deeply as others, in the corruption of our fallen nature. Sin appeared before me in more of the blackness of its native character than had ever previously met my observation. The song of the Seraphim, ' Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts ! ' seemed to float around me ; but though I could sigh forth a cordial ' Amen ! ' to their anthem, and approve the unchangeable and un- compromising holiness of the Lord, yet every murmur of the passing gale seemed to whisper, ' guilt ! ' and my labouring bosom echoed back the sound, ' guilty ! ' The hairs of my head, the grains of sand at my feet, the drops of the fluid world before me, all failed to compute the sum of my iniquities. But, if such be the awful impression, which even the mind of man, when awakened, forms of the multitude, and magnitude, and exceeding guilt of his offences, what must be the estimate formed by Him, who searcheth the heart, and knoweth what is in man ! If the heavens are not clean in his sight, and he chargeth even his angels with folly, how much more abomi- nable and filthy is man, which drinketh iniquity like water ! 168 THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. " It somewhat relieved me to perceive, on strict self-examination, that sin, as consisting in oppo- sition to the will of God, was, and had long been the object of my sincere detestation. That detes- tation appeared to extend even to myself, as having been the willing slave of sin, and as still too fre- quently being brought into captivity to the law of sin. Job's confession spontaneously fell from my lips : ' I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear ; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes ! ' I felt that the favour of God was better than life itself. I desired to be holy, even as he is holy. But all these considerations failed of giving me inward peace ; that peace, of which I had before been a thankful, and, at times, a joyful participant. They afforded me ground of hope, that I had received from the exalted Saviour, the gift of true repentance ; yet they could not sustain my con- fidence of acceptance with God, because they left a burden of conscious guilt upon my mind. And it is a surprising circumstance, that the mind of a believer will sometimes yield itself up to a current of thoughts which will carry him far away from the smiling fields of gospel promise, and hurry him towards the deep dark gulph of despair. He loses sight of the very truths which are wont to be most familiar to him, the faithful testimonies of God, which he has chosen as his heritage for THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. 169 ever, and which used to be the rejoicing of his heart. This was my case. " I had, however, frequently derived refresh- ment and solace from calling up before my mind such scriptural imagery as surrounding objects might suggest. I now looked around me for objects, which might recal some consolatory ideas illustrative of truths, which for a time had ceased to exert their accustomed influence upon my heart. The sea supplied me with what I sought. I recollected the beautiful symbolic description of the seat of the divine mercy, and my imagination pictured the ' crystal sea' before the throne of God, which, in mystic vision, met the eye of the Apocalyptic Prophet. Rev. iv. 6. I contemplated the symbol as an emblem of the blood of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ ; and the grand doctrine of Atonement opened before me in the vision of faith, to the relief and joy of my soul. My thoughts recurred to the temple of Solomon, and the large brazen vessel, from its vast size called ' a sea/ which stood in the sacred courts. Therein the priests washed themselves, and the sacrifices ; and it most significantly pointed to the fountain opened for sin, and for uncleanness, in the precious blood of the Lamb, that was slain. That brazen sea was opaque, and its waters could but im- perfectly cleanse those who resorted thither. This, before the throne, was ' of glass, clear as crystal,' i 170 THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. and its divinely precious flood cleanseth from all sin. Here all, who enter the presence of God, wash their persons, and their services. " My heart accordingly experienced a sensible relief and delight in meditation on the immaculate purity of this vast laver ; for, while it purges away the guilt of ■ multitudes that no man can number,' itself contracts no stain ; as a drop of ink, falling into the ocean, is instantaneously dispersed and lost, leaving the green wave in all its native purity and transparency. " The circumstance also of the sea of atonement lying in full view before the throne of God, afforded me a grateful theme of contemplation. I inferred, that I might approach the seat of supreme majesty and justice without fearful apprehension. The omniscient eye of consummate holiness, viewing the believer, as it were, through this crystal medium, rests on him with perfect complacency. It now appeared to me, that I could see God and live ; and my heart rejoiced in a thankful com- pliance with his own gracious invitation — ' Come now, and let us reason together : though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.' Against such reasoning, brought home to my mind, as I trust it was, by the Holy Spirit, even the strong arguments of guilt, and fear, and unbelief, could not stand. They yielded, and the THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. 171 peace, which passeth all understanding, returned and tranquillized my soul. " I now recollected the Prophet Micah's sub- lime apostrophe to the Lord, and repeated it with new emphasis, 'Who is a God like unto Thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the trans- gressions of the remnant of his heritage? He retaineth not his anger for ever, because he de- lighteth in mercy. He will turn again ; he will have compassion upon us ; he will subdue our iniquities ; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.' I remember the joy which I once witnessed in the tearful eyes of a dying saint, when she repeated to a relative, ' O, my sister, He delighteth in mercy ! ' A steadfast assurance, that mercy is still Jehovah's darling attribute, took possession of my mind. I glanced at the ocean. I thought of its unfathomable depths. How entirely and for ever concealed from view are the substances cast into it by the mariner, as he navigates its surface. Deeper, far deeper, is that ocean of the divine compassion — that sea of gracious oblivion, into which the Saviour plunges his people's guilt. Pondering this inestimable portion of the divine word, I observed, that pardon was the Lord's own act. I Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.' What expression could more forcibly convey the perfect remission of a believing sinner's 172 THE SEA OF ATONEMENT. guilt than this ? Charge myself, as I may, with every possible aggravation of offence against God, I cannot bring against myself a heavier charge than does the Lord himself : ' Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins ; thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities.' How appalling the charge ! Yet he meets my self-abased soul, with a decla- ration which effectually checks the feelings of terror and despondency, and gives birth to emo- tions of gratitude and love, ' I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions, for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.' " A* CHAPTER XVI. THE CRUISE. Mr. Willoughby's temporary indisposition, so far from impeding, rather promoted the accom- plishment of a plan, which had for several days been proposed, to take advantage of the first seasonable day for a cruise along the coast. Thursday presented the desired opportunity, and Charles, who had been appointed commissary for the occasion, having seen to the embarkation of all the necessary stores, went to acquaint the Hamiltons, that his father, sister, and brother were in readiness on the beach. " Your father," said Louisa to Charles, as he conducted his friends to the boat, " will, I hope, derive be- nefit from our little voyage. We all are deeply interested about him, for your sakes, as well as his own." " A similar hope/' answered Charles, " and not our own personal gratification, has induced us 174 THE CRUISE. this morning to urge my father to accompany us. He seemed inclined to stay at home alone, for he never desires his children to be debarred from rational enjoyments, merely because he cannot participate in them. We could not, however, consent to this, especially as we feel assured, that, under the blessing of God, the sea-breeze will refresh and invigorate him." The two families soon met, and, after the usual morning salutation, all entered the vessel ; the white sails were spread and trimmed ; the pilot boatman took his station at the helm ; and in a few minutes they were gliding along the pathless waters. Conversation, cheerful without frivolity, and sensible without formality, flowed freely, as the endless variety of objects appearing in view, and constantly changing their aspect and relative situation, suggested new topics. Pleased with each other, and disposed more to give than to seek accom- modation ; thankful to the Father of mercies for this fresh opportunity of innocent enjoyment, and vying with each other in selecting motives of gratitude, rather than in detecting or inventing reasons for dissatisfaction ; and desirous of ob- taining as much improvement as pleasure from the excursion, they felt half unwilling to reckon the hours as they passed swiftly and more swiftly by, like the yielding waves through which their little bark ploughed its way, leaving behind no furrow, THE CRUISE. 175 but only a rippled track, faintly marking out the path they had traversed, and on which the eye delighted to look backward. One time they paused, To mark the ship in floating balance held, By earth attracted, and by seas repell'd ; Another time they speculated upon the lurking dangers of " the faithless tides," or the hidden wonders and treasures of the unexplored recesses and depths of the deep ; and presently they trans- ferred their attention to the motions and changes of the fleecy clouds that were traversing the sky ; and exchanged their remarks on the perpetually shifting scenery on the coast. After the party had dined, and when conversation rather flagged, Pascal Hamilton produced a paper, which he had reserved for the present suitable occasion, and which served to dissipate that species of lassitude, the influence of which our voyagers began to feel, and which indeed is the natural consequence of long and vivid mental excite- ment. " I must premise," said Pascal, as he opened his paper, " that as our plan does not imperatively require the production of exclusively original mat- ter, I have availed myself largely of the very instructive and entertaining materials brought 176 THE CRUISE. together by the Historian of America, in his first and introductory book." ON NAVIGATION. There go the ships ! Ps. civ. 26. " ' The ocean, which surrounds the habitable earth, as well as the various arms of the sea, which separate one region from another, though destined to facilitate the communication between distant regions., seem, at first view, to be formed to check the progress of man, and to mark the bounds of that portion of the globe to which nature had confined him. It was long, we may believe, before men attempted these formidable barriers, and became so skilful and adventurous as to com- mit themselves to the mercy of the winds and waves, or to quit their native shores in quest of remote and unknown regions. " Navigation and ship-building are arts so nice and complicated, that they require the ingenuity, as well as experience, of many successive ages to bring them to any degree of perfection. From the raft or canoe, which first served to carry a savage over the river that obstructed him in the chase, to the construction of a vessel capable of conveying a numerous crew with safety to a distant coast, the progress in improvement is immense. Many efforts would be made, many THE CRUISE. 177 experiments would be tried, and much labour as well as invention would be employed, before men could accomplish this arduous and important undertaking. The rude and imperfect state in which navigation is still found among all nations, which are not considerably civilized, corresponds with this account of its progress, and demonstrates that, in early times, the art was not so far im- proved as to enable men to undertake distant voyages, or to attempt remote discoveries. As soon, however, as the art of navigation became known, a new species of correspondence between men took place. It is from this era, that we must date the commencement of such an intercourse between nations as deserves the appellation of commerce. It is to navigation that men are indebted for the power of transporting the super fluous stock of one part of the earth to supply the wants of another. The luxuries and blessings of a particular climate are no longer confined to itself alone, but the enjoyment often is communi- cated to the most distant regions. " In proportion as the knowledge of the ad- vantages derived from navigation and commerce continued to spread, the intercourse among nations extended. The ambition of conquest, or the ne- cessity of procuring new settlements, were no longer the sole motives of visiting distant lands. The desire of gain became a new incentive to i2 178 THE CRUISE. activity, roused adventurers, and sent them forth upon long voyages, in search of countries, whose products or wants might increase that circulation which nourishes and gives vigour to commerce. Trade proved a great source of discovery, it opened unknown seas, it penetrated into new regions, and contributed more than any other cause, to bring men acquainted with the situation, the nature, and commodities of the different parts of the globe. But even after a regular commerce was established in the world, after nations were considerably civilized, and the sciences and arts were cultivated with ardour and success, navi- gation continued to be so imperfect, that it can hardly be said to have advanced beyond the infancy of its improvement in the ancient world. " Among all the nations of antiquity, the struc- ture of their vessels was extremely rude, and their method of working them very defective. They were unacquainted with several principles and operations in navigation, which are now considered as the first elements on which that science is founded. Though that property of the magnet by which it attracts iron, was well known to the ancients, its more important and amazing virtue of pointing to the poles, had entirely escaped their observation. Destitute of this faithful guide, which now conducts the pilot with so much cer- tainty, in the unbounded ocean, during the dark- THE CRUISE. 179 ness of night, or when the heavens are covered with clouds, the ancients had no other method of regulating their course, than observing the sun and stars. Their navigation was, of consequence, uncertain and timid. They durst seldom quit sight of land, but crept along the coast, exposed to all the dangers, and retarded by all the obstruc- tions, unavoidable in holding such an awkward course. An incredible length of time was requi- site for performing voyages, which are now finished in a short space. Even in the mildest climates, and in seas the least tempestuous, it was only during the summer months that the ancients ven- tured out of their harbours. The remainder of the year was lost in inactivity. It would have been deemed most inconsiderate rashness to have braved the fury of the winds and waves during winter. 22 " While both the science and practice of navi- gation continued to be so defective, it was an undertaking of no small difficulty and danger, to visit any remote region of the earth. Under every disadvantage, however, the active spirit of com- merce exerted itself. The Egyptians, soon after the establishment of their monarchy, are said to have opened a trade between the Arabian Gulf, or Red Sea, and the western coast of the great 82 For a scriptural illustration of this remark see Acts xxvii. 12. 180 THE CRUISE. Indian continent. ' The Phoenicians of Tyre and Sidon launched with still greater boldness on the treacherous element.' They were a people of merchants, who aimed at the empire of the sea, and actually possessed it. Even the Jews caught something of the spirit of marine enterprise. 23 The Carthaginians inherited the naval genius of their fathers, urged their vessels into the Atlantic, and are said to have circumnavigated the continent of Africa. The Greeks and Romans contributed little, either scientifically or practically, to the art of navigation. " ' Though Greece be almost encompassed by the sea, which formed many spacious bays and commodious harbours, though it be surrounded by a great number of fertile islands, yet, notwith- standing such a favourable situation, which seemed to invite that ingenious people to apply themselves to navigation, it was long before this art attained any degree of perfection among them. Their early voyages, the object of which was piracy, 23 " And King Solomon made a navy of ships at Ezion-geber, which is beside Eloth, on the shore of the Red Sea, in the land of Edom. And Hiram sent in the navy, his servants, shipmen that had knowledge of the sea, with the servants of Solomon. And they came to Ophir, and fetched from thence gold, four hundred and twenty talents, and brought it to King Solomon." 1 Kings ix. 26—28. " The King's ships went to Tarshish with the servants of Huram ; every three years once came the ships of Tarshish, bringing gold, and silver, ivory, and apes, and peacocks." 2 Chron. ix. 21. THE CRUISE. 181 rather than commerce, were so inconsiderable, that the expedition of the Argonauts, from the coast of Thessaly to the Euxine sea, appeared such an amazing effort of skill and courage, as entitled the conductors of it to be ranked among the demi-gods, and exalted the vessel in which they sailed, to a place among the heavenly constel- lations. Even at a later period, when the Greeks engaged in their famous expedition against Troy, their knowledge in naval affairs seems not to have been much improved. According to the account of Homer, the only poet to who n history ventures to appeal, and who, by his scrupulous accuracy in describing the manners and arts of early ages, merits this distinction, the science of navigation, at that time, had hardly advanced beyond its rudest state. The Greeks, in the heroic ages, seem to have been unacquainted with the use of iron, the most serviceable of all the metals, with- out which, no considerable progress was ever made in the mechanical arts. Their vessels were of in- considerable burden, and mostly without decks. They had only one mast, which was erected or taken down at pleasure. They were strangers to the use of anchors. All their operations in sail- ing were clumsy and unskilful. They turned their observations towards stars, which were improper for regulating their course, and their mode of observing them was inaccurate and fallacious. 182 THE CRUISE. When they had finished a voyage, they drew their paltry barks ashore, as savages do their canoes, and these remained upon dry land until the season of returning to sea approached/ But even after Greece had made great and rapid progress in maritime power, and her navies were numerous, and dreaded by her foes, navigation as a science was but little improved, until Alexander the Great carried the standard of Macedon to the shores of the Indus. His enterprising genius opened the treasures of the East to his countrymen, and drew the tide of commerce from India to Europe. But in the prosecution of his project by Nearchus, to open a channel of communication between the Indus and the Euphrates by sea, ' striking in- stances occur of the small progress which the Greeks had made in naval knowledge. Having never sailed beyond the bounds of the Mediterra- nean, where the ebb and flow of the sea are hardly perceptible, when they first observed this pheno- menon at the mouth of the Indus, it appeared to them a prodigy by which the gods testified the displeasure of heaven against their enterprise. During their whole course, they seem never to have lost sight of land, but followed the bearings of the coast so servilely, that they could not much avail themselves of those periodical winds, which facilitate navigation in the Indian ocean. < — The progress which the Romans made in navigation THE CRUISE. 183 and discovery, was still more inconsiderable than that of the Greeks. " This noble art advanced but slowly, if it ad- vanced at all, during the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, the fierce and barbarous invaders of which, greatly impeded every species of improve- ment. In the ages of chivalry and crusade, navi- gation again revived, though it was still confined within the waters which bounded the approximat- ing shores of the three old continents. " At length, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, a remarkable spirit of discovery was awakened in Europe, and many travellers by land to distant regions, published accounts of their ad- ventures, and excited the curiosity of mankind to learn more of the unexplored regions of the globe. * While this spirit was gradually forming in Europe, a fortunate discovery was made, which con- tributed more than all the efforts and ingenuity of preceding ages, to improve and to extend naviga- tion. That wonderful property of the magnet, by which it communicates such virtue to a needle or slender rod of iron, as to point towards the poles of the earth, was observed. The use which might be made of this, in directing navigation, was im- mediately perceived. That valuable, but now familiar instrument, the Mariner's Compass, was constructed. When, by means of it, navigators found, that, at all seasons, and in every place, they 184 THE CRUISE. could discover the north and south, with so much ease and accuracy, it became no longer necessary to depend merely on the light of the stars and the observation of the sea-coast. They gradually abandoned their ancient, and timid, and lingering course along the shore, ventured boldly into the ocean, and relying on this new guide, could steer in the darkest night, and under the most cloudy sky, with a security and precision hitherto un- known. The compass may be said to have opened to man the dominion of the sea, and to have put him in full possession of the earth, by enabling iiim to visit every part of it. Flavio Gioia, a citizen of Amalfi, a town of considerable trade in the kingdom of Naples, was the author of this great discovery, about the year 1302. " ' At length the period arrived, when Provi- dence decreed that men were to pass the limits within which they had been so long confined, and open to themselves a more ample field, where- in to display their talents, their enterprise, and their courage/ The Portugese, in the year 1486, under Bartholomew Diaz, discovered the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope ; and six years after- wards, the great Columbus opened a new world to the inhabitants of the old. The poet, to whom Africa is so largely indebted for his advocacy of her children's cause, has, with great beauty, sketched the history of this grand discovery. THE CRUISE. 185 Long lay the ocean-paths from man conceal'd; Light came from heav'n, — the magnet was reveal'd, A surer star to guide the seaman's eye, Than the pale glory of the northern sky ; Alike ordain'd to shine, by night and day, Through calm and tempest, with unsetting ray ; Where'er the mountains rise, the billows roll, Still with strong impulse turning to the pole, True as the sun is to the morning true, Though light as film, and trembling as the dew. Then man no longer crept, with timid oars, And failing heart, along the shelt'ring shores ; Broad to the winds he spread his fearless sails, Defied the adverse, woo'd the fav'ring gales, Bar'd to the storm his adamantine breast, Or soft on ocean's lap lay down to rest; While free as clouds the liquid ether sweep, His white- wing'd vessels cours'd th' untravell'd deep ; Boldly from clime to clime he lov'd to roam, The waves his heritage, the world his home. Then first Columbus, with the mighty hand Of grasping genius, weigh'd the sea and land ; The floods o'erbalanc'd : — where the tide of light, Day after day, roll'd down the gulph of night, There seem'd one waste of waters :■ — long in vain His spirit brooded o'er th' Atlantic main; When, sudden as creation burst from nought, Sprang a new world through his stupendous thought, Light, order, beauty ! — while his mind explor'd Th' unveiling mystery, his heart ador'd ; Where'er sublime imagination trod, He heard the voice, he saw the face of God. 186 THE CRUISE. Far from the western cliffs he cast his eye O'er the wide ocean stretching to the sky ; In calm magnificence the sun declin'd, And left a paradise of clouds behind : Proud at his feet, in pomp of pearl and gold, The billows in a sea of glory roll'd. ' — Ah ! on this sea of glory might I sail, 1 Track the bright sun, and pierce th' eternal veil, 1 That hides from mortal sight the radiant bow'rs, 1 Where in full noon he leads the midnight hours !' Thoughtful, he wander'd on the beach alone ; Mild o'er the deep the vesper planet shone, The eye of evening, bright'ning through the west 'Till the swee't moment when it shut to rest : * Whither, golden Venus ! art thou fled ? * Not in the ocean-chambers lies thy bed ; 4 Round the dim world thy glittering chariot drawn, ' Pursues the twilight, or precedes the dawn ; * Thy beauty noon and midnight never see, ' The morn and eve divide the year with thee.' Soft fell the shades, 'till Cynthia's slender bow Crested the farthest wave, then sunk below ; * Tell me, resplendent guardian of the night, ' Circling the sphere in thy perennial flight, ' What secret path of heav'n thy smiles adorn, * What nameless sea reflects thy gleaming horn?' Now earth and ocean vanish'd, all serene The starry firmament alone was seen; Through the slow, silent hours, he watch'd the host Of midnight suns, in western darkness lost, 'Till night himself, on shadowy pinions borne, Fled o'er the mighty waters, and the morn THE CRUISE. 187 Danced on the mountains : — * Lights of heav'n! ' he cried, " Lead on ; — I go to win a glorious bride ; Fearless o'er gulphs unknown I urge my way, Where peril prowls, and shipwreck lurks for prey : Hope swells my sail ; — in spirit I behold That maiden-world, twin sister of the old. By nature nurs'd beyond the jealous sea, Denied to ages, but betroth'd to me/ The winds were prosp'rous, and the billows bore The brave advent'rer to the promised shore ; Far in the west, array'd in purple light, Dawn'd the new world on his enraptur'd sight : Not Adam, loosen'd from th' encumb'ring earth, Wak'd by the breath of God to instant birth, With sweeter, wilder wonder gaz'd around, When life within, and light without he found ; The whole creation rushing o'er his soul, He seem'd to live and breathe throughout the whole. So felt Columbus, when, divinely fair, At the last look of resolute despair, Th' Hesperian isles, from distance dimly blue, With gradual beauty open'd on his view. In that proud moment, his transported mind The morning and the evening worlds combin'd, And made the sea, that sunder'd them before, A bond of peace, uniting shore to shore. " Few, probably, ever lose the vivid impression left upon their minds by their first perusal of Columbus's successful voyage, as it has been described by the graphic pen of Dr. Robertson. 188 THE CRUISE. The reader seems almost to identify himself with the bold navigator, in the joyful result of his long and anxious negociations with the Spanish Court; in the exultation of that hour, when ' Columbus set sail, a little before sun-rise, in presence of a vast crowd of spectators, who sent up their sup- plications to heaven, for the prosperous issue of the voyage, which they wished, rather than ex- pected ; ' in the solicitude of his own mind as to the success of his unparalleled adventure ; in the address, with which, during their protracted pas- sage across the untried ocean, he alternately excited the hopes, soothed the fears, and controlled the passions of his crew ; and in the conflicting emotions of his own breast, when at last he gave way to the impetuous feelings of his men, and solemnly promised to return, if within three days they did not discover the object of their enterprise. " ' Enraged as the sailors were, and impatient to turn their faces again towards their native country, this proposition did not appear to them unreasonable. Nor did Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a term so short. The presages of discovering land were now so numerous and promising, that he deemed them infallible. For some days the sounding line reached the bottom, and the soil which it brought up indicated land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds increased, and were composed, not only of THE CRUISE. 189 sea fowl, but of such land birds as could not be supposed to fly far from the shore. The crew ofj the Pinta observed a cane floating, which seemed to have been newly cut, and likewise a piece of timber artificially carved. The sailors aboard the Nigna took up the branch of a tree, with red ber- ries, perfectly fresh. The clouds around the setting sun assumed a new appearance; the air was more mild and warm, and during the night the wind became unequal and variable. From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confident of being near land, that on the evening of the eleventh of October, after public prayers for success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and the ships to lie to, keeping strict watch, lest they should be driven ashore in the night. During this interval of sus- | pense and expectation, no man shut his eyes ; all kept upon deck, gazing intently towards that j quarter where they expected to discover the ! land, which had been so long the object of their i wishes. [ " About two hours before midnight, Columbus, i standing on the forecastle, observed a light at a l distance, and privately pointed it out to Pedro J Gutteirez, a page of the Queen's wardrobe, 5 Gutteirez perceived it, and calling to Salcedo, comptroller of the fleet, all three saw it in motion, I as if it were carried from place to place. A little after midnight, the joyful sound of * Land! land!* 190 THE CRUISE. was heard from the Pinta, which kept always a-head of the other ships. But having been so often deceived by fallacious appearances, every man was now become slow of belief, and waited, in all the anguish of uncertainty and impatience, for the return of day. As soon as morning dawned, all doubts and fears were dispelled. From every ship an island was perceived about two leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well stored with wood, and watered with many rivulets, presented the aspect of a delightful country. The crew of the Pinta instantly began 'the Te Deum, as a hymn of thanksgiving to God, and were joined by those of the other ships, with tears of joy, and transports of congratulation. This office of gratitude to heaven was followed by an act of justice to their commander. They threw them- selves at the feet of Columbus, with feelings of self-condemnation, mingled with reverence. They implored him to pardon their ignorance, incre- dulity, and insolence, which had created him so much unnecessary disquiet, and had so often obstructed the prosecution of his well-concerted plan ; and passing, in the warmth of their admi- ration, from one extreme to another, they now pronounced the man, whom they had so lately leviled and threatened, to be a person inspired by heaven with sagacity and fortitude more than human, in order to accomplish a design so far THE CRUISE. 191 beyond the ideas and conception of all former " As soon as the sun arose, all their boats were manned and armed. They rowed towards the island, with their colours displayed, with warlike music, and other martial pomp. As they ap- proached the coast, they saw it covered with a multitude of people, whom the novelty of the spectacle had drawn together, whose attitudes and gestures expressed wonder and astonishment at the strange objects which presented themselves to their view. Columbus was the first European who set foot in the new world which he had dis- covered. He landed in a rich dress, and with a naked sword in his hand. His men followed, and kneeling down, they all kissed the ground, which they had so long desired to see. They next erected a crucifix, and prostrating themselves before it, returned thanks to God for conducting their voyage to such a happy issue.' " From the discovery of America down to the present day, the improvement of navigation has I been rapidly progressive. The commercial and ! the warlike spirit of the different maritime nations, aided by a noble public emulation and zeal in the furtherance of discoveries, has given a prominence and importance to naval science and pursuits, altogether unprecedented in the history of the world. Not unfrequently has the fate of empires 192 THE CRUISE. hung upon the issue of the embattled field of waters. The sciences and arts of remotest nations have been mutually communicated; the arcana, and records, and monuments of their history thrown open ; their respective products exchanged ; and, above all, the long-closed channel of the ocean has been opened for the conveyance of the tidings of salvation to the ends of the earth. ? A large vessel, with all its convenience, constructed in such a manner as to go upon the surface of the water, and brave the fury of the winds and waves, is, perhaps, the master-piece of human con- trivance ; 24 and the Psalmist, when contemplating the wonders of the ocean, cries out in admiration, as if placed in a situation like this of ours — ■' There go the ships ! ' " Probably, nothing more remarkably distin- guishes the march of human skill than a com- parison between the war galley of the Greek and the Roman, and the first-rate ship of war that sails in stately majesty from a British port. If, as the battle of Salamis proved, there was wisdom in the interpretation given by Themistocles to the oracle of Delphi, ' that Athens could be saved only by wooden walls/ no less discernment has been displayed by the councils of our own land, in committing, under providence, the guardianship 24 Such a machine, propelled by a steam engine of highest power, undoubtedly carries away the palm of unequalled skill. THE CRUISE. 193 of Britain to her navies. The comparison may also be made, with equal advantage, between the ' merchant ship ' of Solomon's age, and the bulky vessel which imports to our shores the luxuries of the land of Sina. Indeed, so vast is the power, which we possess as a maritime people, that were we disposed to quit our island, our marine would be sufficient to transport the whole British popu- lation to almost any spot of the habitable globe, within a comparatively short time. " Cowper, speaking of the benefits of ' trade — the golden girdle of the globe,' says, These are the gifts of Art, and Art thrives most, Where commerce has enrich'd the busy coast ; He catches all improvements in his flight, Spreads foreign wonders in his country's sight, Imports what others have invented well, And stirs his own to match them or excel, 'Tis thus reciprocating, each with each, Alternately the nations learn and teach j While Providence enjoins to every soul A union with the vast, terraqueous whole. Heav'n speed the canvass, gallantly unfurl'd To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the pole the product of the sun, And knit th* unsocial climates into one. — Soft airs and gentle heavings of the wave Impel the fleet, whose errand is to save, To succour wasted regions, and replace The smile of opulence in sorrow's face. K 194 THE CRUISE. " It may afford both interest and instruction to a commercial, Christian nation, like Britain, to trace back, on the chart of history, the rise and fall, in succession, of great maritime cities and empires. The sins and the doom of Tyre and Sidon, of Carthage and Alexandria, of Tarshish and of Venice, of Portugal and Spain, may well prove a warning to other states, and particularly to our own. Of those maritime powers, .vhich successively have risen and sunk in the scale of nations, might be said as, by Isaiah, respecting ancient Tyre : ' The harvest of the river is her revenue; and she is a mart of nations. But be thou ashamed, O Zidon ; for the sea hath spoken, even the strength of the sea. Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days ? Who hath taken this counsel against Tyre, the crown- ing city, whose merchants are princes, whose trafickers are the honourable of the earth ? The Lord of hosts hath purposed it, to stain the pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt all the honourable of the earth. He stretched out his hand over the sea ! He shook the kingdoms Howl, ye ships of Tarshish : for your strength is laid waste.' "Let the sin, and the predicted overthrow of Tyre, be read in the pages of Ezekiel, and compared with the event. Such a comparison may suitably produce the alarm so sublimely described by the THE CRUISE. 195 Prophet. ' Then all the princes of the sea shall come down from their thrones, and lay away their robes, and put off their broidered garments ; they shall clothe themselves with trembling ; they shall sit upon the ground, and shall tremble at every moment, and be astonished at thee. And they shall take up a lamentation for thee, and say to thee, How art thou destroyed, that wast inhabited of seafaring men, the renowned city, which wast strong in the sea ! ' " Pascal Hamilton here took breath, and requested his sister Julia to read, from her pocket Bible, the twenty-sixth and two following chapters of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel. When these had been read, and Mr. Hamilton had made some elucidatory remarks on several passages, his son proceeded with the remainder of his paper. " Now contemplate the record in which history points to the fulfilment of prophecy. ' This city/ says Maundrell, ' standing in the sea, upon a peninsula, promises at a distance something very magnificent. But when you come to it, you find no similitude of that glory, for which it was so renowned in ancient times, and which the Pro- phet Ezekiel describes. On the north side it has an old Turkish ungarrisoned castle ; besides which you see nothing here, but a mere babel of 196 THE CRUISE. broken walls, pillars, vaults, &c. there being not so much as one entire house left : its present inha- bitants are only a few poor wretches, harbouring themselves in the vaults, and subsisting chiefly upon fishing; who seem to be preserved in this place by divine providence, as a visible argument how God has fulfilled his word concerning Tyre, viz. that it should be as the top of a rock, a place for fishers to dry their nets on. " ' Of this once powerful mistress of the ocean/ says Joliffe, in his Letters from Palestine, 1820, ' there now exist scarcely any traces. Some miserable cabins, ranged in irregular lines, digni- fied with the name of streets, and a few buildings of a rather better description, occupied by the officers of government, compose nearly the whole of the town. It still makes, indeed, some languish- ing efforts at commerce, and contrives to export annually to Alexandria, cargoes of silk and tobacco, but the amount merits no consideration. — ' The noble dust of Alexander, traced by the imagination till found stopping a beer-barrel/ would scarcely afford a stronger constrast of grandeur and debase- ment, than Tyre, at the period of being beseiged by that conqueror, and the modern town of Tsour, erected on its ashes.' " And what is Carthage, the daughter of Tyre? A heap of ruins, without an inhabitant except the wild beast of the desert. What is Alexandria, THE CRUISE. 197 the pride of Egypt and of the conqueror of the East? A paltry town consisting chiefly of one long street, the rest lying in ruins. What is Venice? — the city, whose Doge, for centuries, with great pomp, married the sea, and claimed its sub- mission, by dropping a ring into its waters ? It remains, indeed, and is still a superb city ; but it resembles only the splendid garment of departed greatness. For thirty years, even the pageant of marrying the Adriatic has been omitted : and with more sense than it had for a long time been kept up ; for the reality of power had departed from the licentious city of the seventy-two islands. I stood in Venice, on the bridge of sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Eagle's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles ! She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers, At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers : And such she was ; — her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers. 198 THE CRUISE. In purple was she rob'd, and of her feast Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increas'd. In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone. — Byron. " Where are the naval crowns of Portugal and Spain ? Ask the tempest, which, while it expressed the wrath of God, defended Britain in the reign of her Elizabeth. Ask the avenging angel of Africa, and the rising spirit of Transatlantic liberty. If he spared not them, — Tremble and be amaz'd at thy escape, Far guiltier England, lest he spare not thee ! " CHAPTER XVII THE SLAVE SHIP. Both Louisa and Julia Hamilton had previously been acquainted with the subject of their brother's paper, and had made an agreement with him, that he should leave them two topics, in a measure connected with his own. Accordingly, at the conclusion of some general and animated conver- sation, which arose out of Pascal's composition, Louisa was requested to produce what she had written. Its title was THE SLAVE SHIP. Freighted with curses was the bark that bore The spoilers of the west to Guinea's shore ; Heavy with groans of anguish blew the gales That swell'd that fatal bark's returning sails ; Old Ocean shrunk, as o'er his surface flew The felon-cargo, and the daemon crew ; For fiends, usurping human form, began The man-degrading merchandize of man. " It surely is a false and squeamish sensibility, that shrinks from the contemplation of the real 200 THE SLAVE SHIP. horrors connected with the history and state of slavery, especially of Negro slavery in the West Indies, and in some provinces of the American continent. Those horrors, it is granted, may have experienced some abatement since the voice of public opinion, in this country, abolished the British slave-trade, and since the hand of Chris- tian benevolence has been stretched out to effect a melioration in the condition of the Million, on whom the traffickers in flesh and blood, or the circumstances of their birth upon the soil of thral- dom, have fastened the yoke and the chain of bondage. But time itself can never blot from the pages of history the record of Spanish cupidity and cruelty, beneath the oppressive influence of which the Carib aborigines of " the Hesperian Isles" passed away, Like autumn foliage, withering- in the blast ; nor can the lapse of ages obliterate the memorials of British lust of gold, which emulated the abominable policy of Spain, in filling up the thinned, and wasted, and buried population of the cane-planted islands with the Negro race of Africa. Praised be the heavenly hand, which first touched the hearts of some noble-minded men of our native land, to pity the woes of the children of Europe's darker sister, and to conceive plans for THE SLAVE SHIP. 201 their relief ! Blessed be the memory of Pitt and of Fox, who, within a few months of their going down into their scarcely divided graves, aided the dauntless phalanx of British senators, in leading the great council of the nation to decree the Abo- lition of the Slave-trade ! Nor will the embalming: love and admiration of the Christian world ever suffer the name of Wilberforce to perish or to fade. " But we are not to forget, that, within our own memory, this brand on the commerce of the world existed in all its enormity ; and that, although the ships and the capital, and the subjects of England can no longer be legally employed to ' trade in the blood of innocence/ and yonder ocean is no longer shaded by the British flag, dishonoured by waving from a dungeon of slaves ; yet is the slave-trade actively carried on by other European nations, and still our own countrymen hold one Million of Negroes, by exactly the same tenure as they hold their lands and their cattle. What may be termed the internal and home slave-trade, yet stands, and blots the name of Britain, though she may have wiped her hands of the foreign traffic. Still, tens of thousands of the swarthy children of Ham, are annually carried off to the brutal market of the children of Japheth. It may not, therefore, be amiss to take a survey of those dire monsters of the deep, called Slave vessels. k2 202 THE SLAVE SHIP. From Mersey's bay Or turbid Severn,^ mark the gallant ship. Gaily bedecked, a scene of seeming joy, Where many a heavy and repentant heart Sees the green shore recede, the mountains grey Sink from the straining sight, and nought all round But wave and sky. Ere long, sweet-scented airs, From Lusitania's groves, swell every sail With fragrance, every heart with vernal joy : Smiling, the aged helmsman turns to breathe The balmy gale ; while from the topmast height The ship-boy spies the blossom-gilded shore And thinks how happy is the land-boy's life, Who, fearless, climbs among the loaded boughs. These shores glide fast away, and Atlas frowns Far o'er the deep : the fire-peaked Tenerifife Amid the gloom of night is first descried : With day, the islands falsely happy called Pass in review, and tropic waves succeed. Sagacious of the taint that still adheres Indelible to decks long drenched with gore, Death-omening birds supply a convoy dire ; Or forward flocking, ere the ship appear. Wheel clamorous, and perch upon the beach, Sure harbingers of wretchedness to him Who daily with the sun, to scan the deep, Yon mountain climbs, leading with boding breast His playful boy. And now the sail appears Hung in the dim horizon : freedom's flag, Britannia's glowing ensign, is descried : 25 Happily, these wateis are now cleansed of their foulest stain, though the waters of other lands retain the dye of guilt. THE SLAVE SHIP. 203 Then full in view the floating prison-house, The Pandorean ark of every curse Imagination can combine to blast Poor human life, comes rolling o'er the surge. The mother strains her infant to her breast, And weeps to think her eldest born has reach'd Those years, which, tender though they be, provoke The white man's thirst of gain : more dreadful far The white man's scowl, than the couch'd lion's glare ! No shadow followed Maliel's playful steps, As from the field, where he had watch'd to scare The plund'ring birds, he sought the neighb'ring wood To drink the water from the chaliced herb ; — vSudden, a hurrying step behind he hears : It is the white man's tread. Trembling, he flies, To reach the friendly grove ; when, deep, a roar, The thunder of the new-wak'd lion's mouth, Comes full upon his ear : the oppressor's hand With fetters loaded, or the lion's paw, — Such is the dire alternative he views ; — Forward he flies, and darts into the wood. GllAHAME. " The modes, in which cargoes of poor slaves are procured, to gorge these leviathans of the ocean, are such as humanity shudders to contem- plate. Not many years have passed since the following narrative was told at a respectable table in the city of B , * I was once/ said the narrator, ' on the African coast, looking out for a cargo. 1 observed the smoke of a fire on shore, the known signal of trade, and immediately put off in 204 THE SLAVE SHIP. a boat. On arriving at the beach I found a trader, and on my inquiring what he had to dispose of, he produced two negro women, each with an in- fant in her arms. I shook my head and declined purchasing. He asked me my reason. I replied, that they did not suit me. Again he begged to know the cause of my holding off. I told him that the women would suit me well enough, but their children were an objection to my purchasing them. The trader immediately went up to one of the women, and, taking the child out of her arms, dashed its head upon a stone. He then did the same with the other, and sold the two women to me/ This fact was told as one of the occurrences of trade, and without any expression of horror or detestation, as it regarded the fact itself, or of self-reproach, for not having interposed to prevent the hideous infanticide. With what force does a single atrocity like this, strike upon the mind which is not seared, either by the habitual sight of a land of bondage, or by the cold-hearted argu- ments by which slavery is upheld. But let such a mind spread its contemplation over a whole con- tinent, peopled with fifty millions of our race, for centuries made the theatre of equal, and greater, and innumerable atrocities, embracing all the ca- pabilities of human depravity and human strength to contrive and achieve, and it becomes sensible of a depression, which defies the power of utterance. THE SLAVE SHIP. 205 '1 For the sake p of plunder, or bribed by the prospect of acquiring the useful, or luxurious pro- ductions of European manufactories; incited by the love of power, and that thirst of blood which seems to form a natural appetite of the savage chieftain ; and assured of finding European pur- chasers for their victims, the innumerable tribes of Africa are committed to the pursuit of a san- guinary, and relentless, and interminable warfare. The captives made in these wars, are subjected to a series of miseries in travelling from one scene to another, before they reach the sea-coast, which it raises our astonishment to find that human nature can endure. ' The ground around the well of Meshroo/ says Dr.Oudney,in a note toDenham's, Clapperton's, and Oudney's Travels in Africa, ' is strewed with human skeletons, the slaves who have arrived exhausted with thirst and fatigue. The horrid consequences of the slave trade were strongly brought to our mind ; and, although its horrors (i. e. among Moors and Tibboos) are not equal to those of the European trade, still they are sufficient to call up every sympathy, and rouse up every spark of humanity. They are dragged over deserts ; water often fails; and provisions scarcely provided for the long and dreary journey. — Every few miles a skeleton was seen through the whole day ; some were partially covered with sand, others with only a small mound, formed by the 206 THE SLAVE SHIP. wind/ * About sunset/ says Major Denham, ' we halted near a well, within a half mile of Meshroo. Round this spot were lying more than one hundred skeletons, some of them with the skin still remaining attached to them^-not even a little sand thrown over them. The Arabs laughed heartily at my expression of horror, and said, * They were only blacks ! ' The greater part of the unhappy people, of whom these were the remains, had been the spoils of the Sultan of Fezzar, the year before. ( 1821 .) I was assured that they had left Bournou with not above a quarter's allowance for each ; and that more died from want than fatigue : they were marched off with chains round their necks and legs : the most robust only arrived in Fezzar, in a very debilitated state, and were there fattened for the Tripoli slave market.' " ' They were only blacks ! ' It was the brutal exclamation of a Mahomed an Arab. ' They are only blacks !' This has been the plausible reason, which has satisfied Christian Europeans, and lulled their consciences to sleep, while they have kindled the flames of war, and dragged the ironed negro from realm to realm. e The Slatees,' ob- serves the traveller Parke, " are forced to keep them constantly in irons, and watch them very closely, to prevent their escape. They are com- monly secured by putting the right leg of one, and the left of the other, into the same pair of fetters. THE SLAVE SHIP. 207 By supporting the fetters with a string, they can walk, though very slowly. Every four slaves are likewise fastened together by the necks, with a strong rope of twisted thongs ; and in the night, an additional pair of fetters is put on their hands, and sometimes a light iron chain passed round their necks/ In this manner, tens of thousands are annually driven beneath the scourge, making the desert echo with their cries and groans, and marking their track with blood from their galled limbs, down to the shores of their native continent, where the white man — the vulture of the coast — waits for his prey. f* And now the bargain is struck. The boats convey the fettered victims to ' the floating mart/ which human ingenuity, aided and prompted surely by demoniacal agency, has constructed for the purpose. The powers of calculation and measurement are taxed to provide the fullest cargo for the slave vessel ; and if but two-thirds survive the voyage across the Atlantic, the merchant in human flesh is amply paid. Heave, heave the anchor, on your handspikes rise Yo yea, resounds amidst the buzz confused, Ascending from the hold with groans and shrieks That cannot be repress'd ; and now full sail To catch the breeze, that scarce the canvass fills, The floating hearse nods onward o'er the waves. 208 THE SLAVE SHIP. But even yet the victims have not reach'd The utmost pitch of misery, for the gale With gentle sigh the canvass scarcely fills, And all the hatches are full open thrown, Giving free entrance to the breath of life : Yet, in the imperfect truce of corporal sufferance, 'Tis then that agony most keenly gnaws, The tortured soul. Night comes apace, but darkness is forbid The view of misery from itself to shroud. A glimm'ring lamp's dim beam faintly displays The rows of living corpses to the sight, As if the white men grudg'd that ev'n one sense Should cease to be the instrument of woe. But misery exquisite the vital powers Exhausts, till sleep, unhop'd, weighs down at last The weary eyelids of a favour'd few. — But mental anguish is ere long absorb'd In hideous pangs that rack, excruciate, The frame corporeal ; for now the waves Begin to heave and strew their distant crests ; The gathering clouds in meeting currents roll, Contracting heaven's expanded canopy Into a lurid vault. The sails are reef'd ; All hatches clos'd; the coffin'd 26 captives pant For air ; and in their various languages Implore, unheard, that but a single board Be rais'd : vain prayer ! for now the beetling surge Breaks o'er the bow, and boils along the deck. Oh then the horrors of the den below ! 26 The slaves, indeed, are described as not having so much room as a man in his coffin. THE SLAVE SHIP. 209 Disease bursts forth, and, like th' electric shock, Sudden, strikes through at once the prostrate ranks. Fierce fever pours his lava from the heart, And burns through every vein ; convulsion writhe* Foaming, and gnaws and champs his twisted arm ; Dire trismus bends his victim on the wheel Of torment, rivets close the firm-screwed jaw In fearful grin, and makes death lovely seem. Dreadful the imprecations, dire the shrieks, That mingle with the maniac laugh ; the gnash Of teeth, delirium's fitful song, now gay, Plaintive at times, then deeply sorrowful. In such a scene death deals the final blow In pity, not in wrath : 'tis he alone That here can quench the fever's fire, -unloose The knotted tendon ; he alone restores The frantic mind, that, soon as freed, ascends To Him who gave it being. One endless day, one night that seemed a year, The billows rag'd ; so long the slaves, immur'd, Struggled 'twixt life and death. At last the winds Abate ; subside the waves ; the fastened boards Unfold, and full o'erhead the hopeless eye Sees, from his wooden couch, once more the sun, Dim through the cloud that to the topmast streams* The dead are dragg'd above, and to the dead Enchained ofttimes is dragg'd a living man. The female captives next, freed from their cage, Breathe the pure air, leading their little ones. Oh what a sight I The miserable man, Who sees his child among the wailing crowd, Above its little head his shackled arms Circling, enfolds it to his anguish'd breast* 210 THE SLAVE SHIP. Then comes the sad repast, and loathing lips Are forc'd to share it. Some, on death resolv'd, All sustenance refuse ; then creaks the screw Of torture ; then the knotted scourge resounds, Soaking itself in blood : with aspect firm, With such a look as triumph'd on the face Of Scsevola, fixed on his shrivelling hand, The African his dreadful fate sustains, And clings to his resolve : nature at last Sinks under agony, and death's mild arm The brandish' d lash arrests. Another yields, Not to the furrowing scourge, or torture iron, In vain applied, but to a kneeling wife, And infants kneeling suppliant by her side. Contagion spreads apace from man to man ; Nor the poor comforts of their piteous state Are granted to the sick ; no place have they Whereon to lay them down and die in peace. The seaman's swinging couch has given place To human stowage ; on the deck's bare board, Or haply on a chest, he lies outstretch'd ; And, for the soothing voice and tender hand, He hears reproach, and feels the brutal blow. Suspicion is conviction, and the man, Who scarce can raise his throbbing head, is doom'd, (As if he feign'd disease) panting and pale, To feel the harrowing stripes : he breathes his last ! Dearth next approaches, handmaid of disease, With slow but certain step : the measur'd draught Of water is dealt out with cautious hand ; For now the sails hang wavering in the breeze ; The lambent waves rise gently on the prow; His bulk the following sluth-hound of the deep THE SLAVE SHIP. 211 Rolls, gambolling, and shows his vault-like gorge ; And every sign foretels a lasting calm. Fainting the breeze dies gradually away, 'Till not a breath is felt; the vessel lies Moveless, as if enchased in Arctic ice. While fierce, with perpendicular rays, the sun Withers up life, and from within thirst burns Unquench'd : O then, amid the earnest prayer For death, the tongue, parch'd, to the mouth's roof cleaves : Right busily death runs his welcome rounds, The aged man now striking, now the youth, And now the infant in its mother's arms. There was (almost incredible the tale !) A wretch, whose lips condemn'd a mother's hands To drop her murder'd infant in the deep. Murder'd ! yes foully murder'd, is each one Who dies a captive in the horrid trade. And yet there have been men, and still there are, Who vindicate such murder ; men who preach That gain and custom sanction every crime. Slight mitigation of the seaman's lot The shades of evening bring : but who in words The aggravated misery can unfold Of the poor slaves, who, thrust below, endure The double deprivation, water, air ! — With horror at the picture fancy draws, Language, appalled, shrinks faltering from the task. O God ! how large a portion of the ills Of human kind derives itself from man ! Deeming the land too narrow for his crimes, He penetrates the deserts of the main. How sad the contrast 'twixt that floating scene, 212 THE SLAVE SHIP* That little world of misery condens'd, By man created, and the view around Of nature's works ! how peaceful ocean lies Unseen, reflecting- all the heavenly host, While to the rolling eye, above, below, Wide sparkles, not a single hemisphere, But one vast concave globe of radiant orbs. Seven days and nights the deep a mirror lay To sun, and moon, and stars ; and ere the wind Began again to whisper through the shrouds, The living scarce were equal to the work Of burying the dead : the dying hear The frequent plunge, and clasp their hands in prayer That their appointed hour may be the next ; Contending sharks, full many a fathom down, Are seen in act of tearing limb from limb, The sinking corpse, that finds a living grave. Land ! land ! The sea-boy, from the topmast height, Proclaims, in feeble voice, scarce audible : Land, land, (most blessed sound to sailors' ears !) Flies on the wings of joy from man to man. Alas ! 'tis only to the free, a sound Of joy; invigorated by that sound, They mount the shrouds, and gaze untill the eye Aches at the gladsome sight ; the dying man Raises his languid head, sinks down again, Nor feels the general joy ; for well he knows That, should he reach the shore, 'twill be his grave The crowded haven opens to the view, And soon within the pier the vessel lies. The remnants of the cargo are borne forth, And warehous'd, 'till, with food and drugs vamp'd up, THE SLAVE SHIP. 213 They 're fitted for the market; then, led out, They prove the misery of a second sale. Grahame. *' An apology seems necessary for the length of this quotation. Its suitability to the object in view, and the very plan of these literary recrea- tions, must constitute that apology. But it may be said, that, on a subject like this, historical facts are of far more value than poetical quota- tions, which are apt to lay too deep a colouring on the scenes which they represent. The general truth of this remark cannot be questioned. But here, poetry has only been the amanuensis of his- tory, and her most highly wrought descriptions, so far from exaggerating, have fallen very short of the reality. It is utterly impossible for pen or pencil to overstate the atrocities, which must ine- vitably follow in the train of those, whom the Holy Scriptures have branded with the name of men-stealers — a deeper brand, than any with which the ruthless hand of the overseer ever cau- terized the flesh of the wretched captive. The brand that marks the slave is erased by the more tender hand of his last enemy, death. But the brand set upon his oppressor, like the mark set upon the first murderer, is indelible. History ex- hibits it to the eyes of all generations, and the day of final and impartial judgment, when God 214 THE SLAVE SHIP. maketh inquisition for blood, shall display it to the view of an assembled universe. " Facts are not wanting to fill up the most ample outline. Let a few suffice. To record the whole would be to count the waves that roll between the shores of the oppressed and the oppressor. " The Portugese, the Brazilian, the Spanish, and the French slave ship still navigates the Atlantic. Mr. Canning officially declares, in writing to our ambassador at Paris ; ' Scarcely an arrival takes place from Africa, without bringing with it accounts that slave-trade undertakings, covered by the flags, and carried on by the subjects of France, are in activity, from north to south, and from east to west, throughout the whole coast of that vast peninsula ; and in the African islands, the West Indies, and elsewhere, French subjects are continually heard of, as fitting out vessels for the slave-trade. In the very ports of France herself, these undertakings form the entire and almost public concern of companies of her mer- chants. One of these ports, that of INTantz, seems to be entirely devoted to it.' " The Orphee, of Nantz, was boarded by one of our cruisers, in the year 1825. She had 698 slaves on board. Commodore Buller writes : ' The state in which my lieutenant found the miserable objects of this brutal trafic, is truly revolting to the feel- THE SLAVE SHIP. 215 ings of human nature : the whole of the men (550 in number) were heavily chained in couples, some round the ancles and arms, and many by the necks. The confined and putrid air issuing from the slave-deck, a height of scarcely three feet, was so strong as almost to deter my lieutenant from exploring it.' ' In September, 1825, there were in the Bruny alone, 2007 tons of shipping, 293 persons, and 35 guns, under the flag of the French nation, employed in the speculation of human flesh. Lieutenant Griffin and other officers, were shown by them round their slave-decks, whilst they exulted in their savage trade, and in the knowledge that we could not interfere with them/ The Paris petition states, ' that it is esta- blished by authentic documents, that the slave- trade captains throw into the sea every year, about three thousand negroes, men, women, and chil- dren ; of whom more than half are thus sacrificed whilst yet alive, either to escape from the visits of cruisers, or because, worn down by their sufferings, they could not be sold to an advantage.' The Baron de Stael, who has recently visited Nantz, with a view to obtain accurate information on the subject, has published the most appalling state- ments. He tells his countrymen, whom he is laudably rousing to a consideration of the horrid traffic, that ' the unblushing audacity with which the slave-trade is carried on in Nantz, exceeds 216 THE SLAVE SHIP. every thing that he could have imagined from what he had heard or read on the subject. — ' The number of vessels/ says the Baron, ' employed by them, according to the most moderate calculation, exceeds eighty, of the average tonnage of 130. — In one vessel, about to be launched, the platform, two and a half feet from the deck, (i. e. underneath the deck) was already fitted up for the reception of slaves. — I begged of my companion to get some iron shackles for me. He said that nothing could be more easy, and walked into the first black- smith's shop on the quay, who showed him a loft, where shackles, handcuffs, and thumb-screws, were heaped by hundreds.' 27 " Our whole nation, two years since, felt as though a pestilence had touched our island, when the Perle, a French slave ship, entered the port of St. Ives, in Conwall ; nor was the joy less general, when the hands of the African Institution libe- rated the five Africans, whom the Perle had on board. We have no slaves at home : then why abroad ? And they themselves, once ferried o'er the "wave That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd. Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free ; They touch our country, and their shackles fall. 37 See the gOtivReport of the African Institution. THE SLAVE SHIP. 217 That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then, And let it circulate through ev'ry vein Of all your empire ; that, where Britain's pow'r Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too. " Yes, it is a matter for mutual and joyful con- gratulation, and, above all, of thankfulness to Him who 'fashioneth the hearts' of the children of men, and moulds them to his will, that no slave vessel ever darkens the waves that roll around our island, and no shackled foot ever touches our shores, but to lose its fetters. But slavery is still found in the skirts of our empire, and the crystalized juice that sweetens our cup is its unblest fruit. The nations of Europe, when we attempt to urge on them the claims of hu- manity, and the abolition of the trade, point with a sarcastic smile to our islands in the West, and are disposed to question both our sincerity and consistency. ' Behold those unoffending foreigners, carried by force to your cane-planted islands. Behold those tens and hundreds of thousands of your own subjects, deprived of the rights which the British Constitution assigns to all who are 'born within your king's dominions. Have you forgotten that your fleet, a few years since, laid the port of Algiers in ashes, because the Algerines had violated that very law of nations, on which you yourselves have unblushingly trampled ? Look 218 THE SLAVE SHIP. at home, to the glaring fact, that unoffending aliens, and unoffending British subjects are de- prived of their civil existence, by thousands and hundreds of thousands, solely for the emolument of private individuals, who, for that purpose alone, by a monstrous and illegal usurpation, condemn their fellow-subjects to a state of irremediable slavery, and extend the dreadful curse to their children, and their children's children. Does the claim set up by your proprietors of slaves, to their fellow-subjects, and to helpless strangers, as their property, rest on any better basis than the claim of robbers and receivers, to goods which they have stolen, or purchased knowing them to be stolen ? Does not the crime of depriving an innocent man, whether a foreigner or a British subject, of his civil existence, immeasurably exceed any one of those descriptions of theft, for which the punish- ment of death is usually awarded in this country, as it includes them all? 28 Is it not one continued system of daily and hourly robbery, wresting from the miserable victim his natural liberty, his rights as a man, as a husband, as a father ; his rights as a British subject, by the constitution of this country, or as- an innocent foreigner by the law of nations I . Is the crime any thing less than that 23 He that stealeth a man, and selleth Mm, or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death. Exod. xxi. 16. THE SLAVE SHIP. 219 of robbing a human being of all his mental and moral energies, of keeping his mind in darkness, lest he should become acquainted with his rights, and of reducing him, for all civil purposes, to the condition of a murdered man ? Is the West Indian negro allowed any inheritance but slavery, though born with an equal claim to liberty with yourselves ? If he attempts to assert his just immunities — if he endeavours to regain his liberty by the same means that were taken to deprive him of it, is he not consigned to the gallows or the stake, as a traitor, on the principles by which pirates put to death those who do not quietly submit to their injustice ? '" 9 The proprietors of West India estates claim, indeed, our consideration, and, in a measure, our pity. Many have come into possession of their estates by inheritance, or by circumstances over which they could have little or no control. Not a few of them are men of high moral probity; and great injustice may be done to their character by indiscriminately classing them with those, whose crimes have held them up to the execration of mankind — the savages who are more savage than the slaves they scourge — the ' Christian brokers in the trade of blood '—the haughty tyrants, before 39 See the Surrey Anti-Slavery Petition, in the Christian Observer, for 1826. p. 820. 220 THE SLAVE SHIP. whom, wherever they walk, ' the negro trembles, and the lash resounds.' But on what principles can the employment of capital, in property whose chief worth is conceived to depend upon, or con- sist in slaves, be justified, that will not equally establish the propriety of the slave-trade itself? And talk we of injustice done to the fair fame of a few individuals ? What is this, to the injustice which has usurped the name of law, and the right of prescription, and has heaped wrongs upon Africa, that reach a higher elevation in the scale of moral guilt, than her mountains in the scale of the geometrician? Some minds seem to labour under a morbid sensibility to the claims of a few hundreds of European slave-holders, while the claims of a million of slaves are viewed with in- difference. But let us hope that Britain is girding herself to her own emancipation, from the oppro- brium and the curse of being the mistress of slaves ; that she will at length give her heart, as well as her ear, to the cry of one part of her great family on behalf of another ; and that the lip of the negro will soon call her blessed, as the restorer of his civil liberty, and as the happy instrument ox* introducing him into the glorious liberty of the children of God. 1 Thy chains are broken, Africa, be free ! ' Thws saith the island-empress of the sea ; THE SLAVE SHIP. 221 Thus saith Britannia. — O ye winds and waves ! Waft the glad tidings to the land of slaves." Mr. Willoughby observed, that he warmly ap- proved and admired the ardent, steady, and Chris- tian zeal, with which many ladies, in the present day, have taken up the cause of the enslaved negro, and that numbers of his country-women were above the sickly and selfish sensibility, which seeks the praise of delicacy and tenderness, in starting and shrinking from the view of facts, like those which make up the history of West Indian slavery. " To use the words of an author, whose name I know not," observed Charles, " 'True hu- manity consists not in a squeamish ear. It consists not in starting and shrinking at tales such as these, but in a disposition to relieve misery. True humanity appertains rather to the mind than to the nerves, and prompts men to use real and active endeavours to execute the actions which it suggests.' If I should not be called to order, I should feel disposed to thank Miss Hamilton for the courage and feeling with which she has handled this delicate subject." " Our incomparable Litany," said Mrs. Ha- milton, " which embraces in the ample arms of its intercessory supplications the whole family of man, always awakens in my heart a touching 222 THE SLAVE SHIP. recollection of our West Indian slaves, when we beseech our good Lord to hear us, and ' to show pity upon all prisoners and captives/ It might not be amiss to have this petition printed in red capitals in all the copies of the Book of Common Prayer, used in the slave-cultured islands. I called them our slaves, for in one sense we all help to fasten and to increase the weight of their yoke, by using the produce of their toil. To evince our own, and to promote our children's abhorrence of the principles and existence of slavery, Mr. Hamilton and myself have abolished the use of West India sugar in our family. But we are very far from pressing upon others an adoption of the same plan. We fear the probability of our im- posing a yoke upon the conscience, by urging the practice as obligatory upon others, who may en- tertain the same degree of hostility to slavery as ourselves, but who may not view the means bear- ing upon its abolition in the same light. As a moral question, for such it really is, I regard it as St. Paul regarded the difference of opinion in the Corinthian church, on abstinence from meats offered to idols. * Meat commendeth us not to God : for neither if we eat, are we the better ; neither if we eat not, are we the worse/ " " I am truly gratified," answered Mr. Wil- loughby, " with this liberal concession on your part, my dear friends. We have not felt the THE SLAVE SHIP. 223 obligation, under which you have voluntarily and conscientiously laid yourselves. Yet, I can assure you, that we yield to none in a deep-rooted an- tipathy to the system of slavery. I remember, that Mr. Pitt, in his speech on the slave trade, in the House of Commons, in the year 1792, ener- getically asked, * Why ought the slave trade to be abolished? Because it is incurable injustice. How much stronger, then, is the ar- gument for immediate, than gradual abolition ! — Why is injustice to be suffered to remain for a single hour ? ' I see not why a part, at least, of this reasoning is not applicable to the state of slavery. This is incurable injustice. But cir- cumstances may arise, wherein to give immediate abolition to a long existing evil, would be to involve those who suffer from it, in deeper calamity. This, in my opinion, would be the inevitable con- sequence of the immediate abolition of slavery in our colonies. To adopt, however, a system of civil regulations, which shall ultimately issue in the emancipation of every subject of the British crown, and which shall demonstrate to the world our sincere conviction of the evil of our past national conduct, is what the united voice of jus- tice, humanity, and religion claim at our hands. " It is pleasing to recollect, that, on this grand moral question, in its primary and original form, as it bore upon the trade in ' what is woman- 224 THE SLAVE SHIP. born,' Mr. Fox was of one mind with his great political antagonist. In the debates of 1805, Mr. Fox thus delivered his sentiments on the trade in slaves, and, were he now living, I have no doubt that he would express himself in a similar manner, respecting slavery in the abstract. ' The cause of abolition, being a cause of justice, is one in which I cannot admit of any compromise : for there can be no compromise between justice and injustice? ' Upon the whole, I shall give my opinion of this trafic in a very few words. I believe it to be impolitic. I know it to be inhuman. I am certain it is unjust.' " " I cannot but hope/' continued Mr. Wil- loughby, " that the advocates for the gradual, but immediately progressive abolition of slavery, will take up the resolution formed by the great statesman, whose words I have just quoted. 'We never will give up the point. Whether in this house, or out of this house ; in whatsoever situation I may ever be ; as long as I have a voice to speak, this question shall never have an end.' We, who think that these things are not merely impolitic, but inhuman and unjust, that they are not of the nature of trade, but that they are crimes, which stain the honour of the country : we, SIR, WILL NEVER RELAX OUR EFFORTS." " I entirely agree with you," observed Mr. Hamilton, " and in common with some, I wish I THE SLAVE SHIP. 225 could say many of my clerical brethren, have, of late, not infrequently touched upon it in my public addresses from the pulpit. In doing this, how- ever, I have been careful to avoid giving a political complexion to a question, which I think is pre-eminently, though not exclusively a moral question. But by way of enlivening our present discussion of the subject, let me ask if the juniors of our party, cannot, memoriter, contribute to our entertainment and instruction, by the recital of some pieces in character, both with our topic, and with the scenery by which we are now environed." Edwin Willoughby volunteered to repeat Cowper's MORNING DREAM. 'T was in the glad season of spring-, Asleep, at the dawn of the day, I dream'd, what I cannot but sing, So pleasant it seem'd, as I lay. I dream'd, that, on ocean afloat, Far hence to the westward I sail'd, While the billows high lifted the boat, And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd. In the steerage a woman I saw, Such, at least, was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impress'd me with awe, Ne'er taught me by woman before. l2 226 THE SLAVE SHIP. She sat, and a shield at her side Shed light, like a sun, on the waves, And smiling divinely, she cried - " I o-o to make freemen of slaves." — Then, raising her voice to a strain The sweetest that ear ever heard, She sung of the slave's broken chain, Wherever her glory appear'd. Some clouds, which had over us hung, Fled, chas'd by her melody clear, And methought, while she liberty sung, 'Twas liberty only to hear. Thus swiftly dividing the flood, To a slave-cultur'd island we came, Where a daemon, her enemy, stood— Oppression his terrible name. In his hand, as the sign of his sway, A scourge, hung with lashes, he bore, And stood looking out for his prey From Africa's sorrowful shore. But soon as, approaching the land, That goddess-like woman he view'd, The scourge he let fall from his hand, With blood of his subjects imbrued. I saw him both sicken and die, And the moment the monster expir'd, Heard shouts, that ascended the sky, From thousands with rapture inspir'd. THE SLAVE SHIP. 227 Awaking, how could I but muse, At what such a dream should betide ? But soon my ear caught the glad news, Which serv'd my weak thought for a guide. That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves, For the hatred she ever has shown To the black-scept'red rulers of slaves, Resolves to have none of her own. " Montgomery, in his ' West Indies,' has an appropriate passage," said Theophilus Hamilton, " the bare repetition of which fills one's mind with trembling awe. It is this : When the loud trumpet of eternal doom Shall break the mortal bondage of the tomb ; When, with the mother's pangs, th' expiring earth Shall bring her children forth to second birth ; Then shall the sea's mysterious caverns, spread With human relics, render up their dead : Though warm with life the heaving surges glow, Where'er the winds of heav'n were wont to blow, In seven-fold phalanx shall the rallying hosts Of ocean-slumb'rers join their wand'ring ghosts, Along the melancholy gulph, that roars From Guinea to the Charibbean shores. Myriads of slaves, that perish'd on the way, From age to age the shark's appointed prey, By livid plagues, by ling'ring tortures slain. Or headlong plung'd alive into the main, Shall rise in judgment from their gloomy beds, And call down vengeance on their murd'rers' heads." 228 THE SLAVE SHIP. " I have frequently admired/' added Miss Willoughby, " two short poems, on the Abolition of the Slave Trade, which appeared in the Christian Observer, for May, 1808. With per- mission, I will repeat three stanzas of the latter of these poems. See, Britons, see ! o'er Afric's sands The day-star, bright, ascending ; With peace, and light, and life, and joy, His heav'nly march attending. The clouds and storms roll dark away, That quench'd too long her struggling day ; The shades of death are fled : Proud wave Dahomey's giant woods, And Niger, father of the floods, Heaves on his rocky bed. No more her sons, shall force or fraud From their lov'd shores dissever ; Through raging seas borne far away, For ever and for ever. Alas ! sad child of want and pain, For him the morn must wake in vain, The dewy eve descend ; Dull eve, that bids the weary mind Return to all she left behind, The sister, father, friend. Woe to the land, whose wealth proclaims - Another land's undoing ; Whose trophied column rises high On robbery and ruin. THE SLAVE SHIP. 229 Britannia saw, with deep disdain, The foul reproach, the coward stain, The characters of blood ; She saw, and swept her shame away, While shouting round, in thick array, Her patriot champions stood." The little vessel was now nearing the shore, and it was agreed that Julia Hamilton should reserve her production till the two families met again, as proposed, on Friday evening. CHAPTER XVIII THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. " My sister Julia/' said Pascal Hamilton, " is in our debt, and I, for one, as a rigid creditor, look for prompt payment." " It is very modest of you," playfully answered Julia, " to require such precise punctuality in a case where I stand pledged to pay a portion of your debts. I have since repented, as most sureties and substitutes do, of my engagement : and I fear, that our pleasant circle will wish that I had left the whole range of navigation to other and abler hands. The theme which I have chosen for a poem, if it may arrogate the name, is THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. Ho ! to the land of the o'ershading wings ; 5# My country ! Thee, the Hebrew minstrel sings. His deep-ton'd harp its thrilling numbers pours In deathless oracles around thy shores. 80 See Bishop Horsley's version and interpetation of Isaiah xriii. THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 231 Thine are the countless sails that shade the deep ; — Thine are the standards its blue plains that sweep. Ho ! all ye dwellers on the earth, behold ! The red-cross banner waves its silken fold On Britain's tow'ring hills. Ye nations, hear ! The trump proclaims the Second Advent near. Nor is the strain by Britain's ear unheard : Through all her cities rings the prophet's word ; Her sons arise and gird them to the toil, To plant on polar ice, on tropic soil, The lion-standard of Judaea's King, The prostrate nations to his footstool bring, Wrest the fell sceptre from the demon's hand, And rend the cov'ring veil from ev'ry land. Lo, on the banks of Cam, with chaplets crown'd, The man of science eyes the prospect round : Turns from the cool of Academic groves, To where in darker shades the savage roves, Dark, hopeless wand'rer of life's cheerless wild, Stranger to heav'n, and earth's poor, outcast child :— Turns from the incense sweet of letter'd fame, To where the widow burns in cedar flame ; Where Ganges rolls his corse-encumber'd flood, And tinges ocean's wave with infant blood. The spirit of the martyrs fires his breast ; He girds him with salvation's flowing vest : To fame, and wealth, and ease, he bids adieu, Christ in his heart, and heaven in his view ; Grasps with firm hand the charter of the skies, And, like th' Apocalyptic angel, flies, The everlasting gospel to proclaim, And spread through ev'ry land Messiah's name. 232 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. I saw the manly tear, that silent stole Adown his cheek : it seem'd as if his soul Would mingle with the brine where fell that tear. 'Twas but a moment's struggle, though severe ; And like that lonely drop in ocean lost, The momentary pang his soul that cross'd. He glanc'd his eye where Peter look'd, and rose Superior to the flood of fears and woes, That threaten'd to ingulf his sinking soul, And o'er his head their whelming billows roll. I saw him turn to view his native shore : — And now its vales and mountains are no more. But as the landscape melted in the sea, Faith caught a vision of eternity. Then earthly things, all, like that vanish'd scene, Appear'd, in view of heav'n, as though they ne'er had been. Alone ! no wedded spirit soothes the strife Of warring passions at the seat of life : Home, kindred, friends, and one than all more dear, Rush on his soul, and force the gushing tear. But love of Christ, and zeal for dying men, Soon still the tumult of his breast again. Would he return ? Ah ! no : the martyr's crown In balance weighs all other objects down. Alone ! that crowded bark no kindred mind Links with his own. His sighs are to the wind : Like a lone Seraph 'mid the faithless host, The scoffer's banter, and the drunkard's toast. Alone ! Ah ! no : while through the dashing seas The light-wing'd vessel scuds before the breeze, — That whistles shrilly through the rattling shrouds, And chases down the sky the fleecy clouds, — THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 233 More than the Oceanides of yore, The fabled genii of old ocean's roar, Ten thousand times ten thousand angel forms Bear the ship onward through the waves and storms, And pour upon the pilgrim's wakeful ear The still, small voice, that calms his bosom's fear. Alone ! behold him in his seaman's cot, From friends dissever'd — by the world forgot ; I hear his converse with some viewless mind, Conceal'd the curtain of the flesh behind. There is a beam upon his raptur'd eye, Reflected from a source unseen, but nigh. Unutterable fellowship is his, The prelibation of eternal bliss. Ah ! not alone he traverses the wave : With One in Three, and Three in One, to save, The light of peace to shed upon his breast, And soothe the turmoil of his heart to rest. There was a night of terrors, when the skies Contended with the deep — that bark, the prize ! The heav'ns were flaming, and the seas were hoar With foaming rage : — the elemental roar Thund'ring in pealing claps from pole to pole, Appall'd the stoutest heart, and shook the soul. Yet was there one meek spirit felt no dread, The peace of heav'n was o'er his bosom spread. See, where he moves amidst the shudd'ring crowd ! Abas'd and coward now, the brave, the proud. " Flee from the wrath that's ever wrath to come ! " Embrace the cross t or wait a hopeless doom !" The storm is gone : and with it fear and pray'r. Revel and dance the morn and ev'ning share. 234 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. Cabin'd in solitude, as still as sweet, He sees the sky and waters blandly meet : Like the false friendship of two smiling foes ; Who only watch to deal the deadlier blows. The moon-lit arch, reflected on the sea, Imag'd a fathomless eternity. Its broken fragments, undulating there, Too like the form our wav'ring spirits wear : Confus'd, at best, though imag'd from above The saint's resemblance to the God of love. He sigh'd for perfect rest, where, o'er the soul, No stormy wave, nor faithless swell should roll. A few more suns, and he should hail the day, Whose sun for ever holds meridian sway. He gaz'd upon the sea : oh ! peerless bliss ! Its great Creator — Ruler — God, was his. Then faith exulted in the written word, That, o'er the earth, the glory of the Lord, Wide, deep, abiding, soon or late shall spread, As ocean covers its unmeasur'd bed. Lo ! there he stands upon the Cape of Storms ! 31 Where nature greets him in her grandest forms. He scans the earth, the ocean, and the sky : The world is pictur'd to his mental eye ; And while the mountain promontory rears Its barrier to the clouds, his ardent prayers Ascend the heav'n of heav'ns, and reach the seat, Where human cries and seraph anthems meet. " Name above ev'ry name, my Saviour, Lord ! " From realm to realm be known, believ'd, ador'd!" 31 See Robertson's History of America, Book I. p, 49, THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 235 ' Cape of Good Hope/ that head-land's later style, The seaman's fearful bodings to beguile. 'Twas there the dauntless Missionary stood, And as he ponder'd o'er the mighty flood, The gospel-banner long'd to view unfurl'd, Waving triumphant o'er a conquer'd world. And Hope— Good Hope, his glowing spirit fir'd, — A holy flame from heav'n itself inspir'd, That coming years from Table Mount should see, The messengers of peace o'erspread that rolling- sea. The fleet is under weigh ! On, Herald, on ! Through languor, pestilence, and death begone ! Through scorn and contumely, in faith and pray'r, Fearless thy enterprize of mercy dare. Ah ! live they still, the graceless souls that scorn'd That man of God, who wept, implor'd, and warn'd ? Ah ! live they now, who, when the voyage was past, Scoff'd, and contemn'd his counsel to the last ? Lord ! hear his pray'r, then register'd in heav'n ; And be their souls abas'd — their guilt forgiv'n ! Lo, Ceylon's Isle ! — its spicy hills and vales, Perpetual odours fling upon the gales. " Ah ! when ? But see, the future opens near : " Those fragrant groves ere long a name shall hear, " Than all their perfumes sweeter. This shall rise " In daily incense to the bending skies : — " Then Budhu's temples echo with the song, " ' Worthy the Lamb ! To him our strains belong.'" Lo, where, in gloomy pride, the tow'r of blood, Throws its tall shadow o'er the pearl-strewn flood ! Fell Juggernaut ! around thy gory pile, The fiends of darkness sit in sullen smile : 236 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. There feast upon the hecatombs of slain Whose life-stream gushes 'neath thy pond'rous wain A transient cloud o'erspreads thy thoughtful breast, Servant of God, as by that coast unblest,— Where India lifts her shame into the skies, The Moloch of her million deities, Thy vessel ploughs its furrow through the main, And bears thee, pensive, 'cross the watry plain. How burns thy soul to pluck the idol down, To claim for Christ the sceptre and the crown, To rear the cross where yon Pagoda stands, And cry, " Salvation !" through its bone-bleach'd lands. " Through changing climates and tempestuous seas" He makes the haven of long look'd-for ease : From ocean's stormy breast most gladly glides To float in calm upon broad Gunga's tides. Lo, now he treads the fiery soil of Ind ! Proclaims how God has lov'd — how man has sinn'd ; Peals the dread thunders of the flaming law ; Inspires the motley crowd with trembling awe ; Exalts a Saviour to their streaming eyes, And beckons upward to the open'd skies. Meek, as the Prophet of the lifted rod ; Lowly, as learning of the Son of God ; Ardent, as Peter, for his master's name ; Constant, as John, his love a kindred flame ; In speech, Apollos; and in zeal, a Paul; He sped his way, where'er he heard the call Of dying millions, and the voice of heav'n : To each — to all, his heart — his life was giv'n. For earthly lamp by far too bright that flame, Which soar'd to reach the source from whence it came : THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 237 And, while it burn'd with clear and clearer ray, Its earthen vessel slow consum'd away. But as the lamp, before its light expires, Beams brighter, as with newly kindled fires, So Martin — Sainted Martin, ere he died, Paled the vain glory of the Crescent's pride ; Shone o'er the East, like Bethl'hem's vivid star, And gleam'd on Persia's plains, like meteor from afar! " My associates in scribbling," said Julia, with a smile, when she had read through her piece, " will readily perceive that I have made an humble attempt to sketch the short, but brilliant Mis- sionary course of the estimable and lamented Martyn. It will be my best reward, if these un- pretending verses should excite some abler and more poetical pen to take up the subject. The Rev. I. Sargent's delineation of one of the most affecting examples of ' the primitive taste,' which, as Milner has admirably remarked, and as Martyn loved to remember, was ' to believe, to suffer, and to love/ would supply abundant materials for a poem. But I will endeavour to make up for the deficiency of interest, which you must too easily discover in my own performance, by reading to you a portion of Montgomery's Greenland, which I have here in my Book of Extracts. It is in exact accordance with our present subject, and represents the three first Moravian Missionaries on their voyage to Greenland, in the year 1733. 238 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. The moon is watching in the sky ; the stars Are swiftly wheeling on their golden cars ; Ocean outstretch'd with infinite expanse, Serenely slumbers in a glorious trance ; The tide, o'er which no troubling spirits breathe, Reflects a cloudless firmament beneath ; Where, poised as in the centre of a sphere, A ship above, and ship below appear ; A double image, pictur'd on the deep, The vessel o'er its shadow seems to sleep ; Yet, like the host of heav'n, that never rest, With evanescent motion to the west, The pageant glides through loneliness and night, And leaves behind a rippling wake of light. Hark ! through the calm and silence of the scene, Slow, solemn, sweet, with many a pause between. Celestial music swells along the air ! — No ; — 'tis the ev'ning hymn of praise and pray'r From yonder deck ; where, on the stern retir'd, Three humble voyagers with looks inspir'd, And hearts enkindled with a holier flame, Than ever lit to empire or to fame, Devoutly stand : — their choral accents rise On wings of harmony beyond the skies ; And 'midst the songs, that seraph-minstrels sing, Day without night to their immortal king, These single strains, — which erst Bohemian hills Echoed to pathless woods and desert rills ; Now heard from Shetland's azure bound, — are known In heaven ; and He, who sits upon the throne, In human form, with mediatorial pow'r, Remembers Calvary, and hails the hour, THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 239 When, by th' Almighty Father's high decree, The utmost north to Him shall bow the knee. And, won by love, an untam'd rebel-race Kiss the victorious sceptre of his grace. Then to His eye, whose instant glance pervades Heaven's heights, earth's circle, hell's profoundest shades, Is there a group more lovely than those three Night-watching pilgrims on the lonely sea ? Or to His ear, that gathers in one sound The voices of adoring worlds around, Comes there a breath of more delightful praise Than the faint notes his poor disciples raise, Ere on the treacherous main they sink to rest, Secure as leaning on their Master's breast ? They sleep; but memory wakes ; and dreams array Night in a lively masquerade of day ; The land they seek, the land they leave behind, Meet on mid-ocean in the plastic mind ; One brings forsaken home and friends so nigh. That tears in slumber swell th' unconscious eye ; The other opens, with prophetic view, Perils, which e'en their fathers never knew, (Though school'd by suffering, long inur'd to toil, Outcasts and exiles from their natal soil ;) — Strange scenes, strange men ; untold, untried distress ; Pain, hardships, famine, cold, and nakedness, Diseases ; death in every hideous form, On shore, at sea, by flood, by fire, by storm ; Wild beasts, and wilder men ; — unmov'd by fear, Health, comfort, safety, life, they count not dear, 240 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. May they but hope a Saviour's love to show, And warn one spirit from eternal woe : Nor will they faint ; nor can they strive in vain, Since thus — to live is Christ, to die is gain. 'Tis morn — the bathing moon her lustre shrouds ; Wide o'er the east impends an arch of clouds, That spans the ocean ; — while the infant dawn Peep3 through the portal o'er the liquid lawn, That ruffled by an April gale appears, Between the gloom and splendour of the spheres, Dark-purple, as the moorland-heath, when rain Hangs in low vapours o'er th' autumnal plain : 'Till the full sun, resurgent from the flood. Looks on the waves, and turns them into blood ; But quickly kindling, as his beams aspire, The lambent billows play in forms of fire. — Where is the vessel ? — Shining through the light. Like the white sea-fowl's horizontal flight, Yonder she wings, and skims, and cleaves her way. Through refluent foam and iridescent spray. The terrors of Jehovah, and his grace," The brethren bear to earth's remotest race. And now exulting on their swift career, The northern waters narrowing in the rear, They rise upon th' Atlantic flood, that rolls, Shoreless and fathomless, between the poles, Whose waves the east and western worlds divide, Then gird the globe with one circumfluent tide ; For mighty ocean, by whatever name Known to vain man, is every where the same, THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. 241 And deems all regions by his gulphs embrac'd But vassal tenures of his sov'reign waste. Clear shines the sun ; the surge intensely blue, Assumes by day heav'n's own aerial hue : Buoyant and beautiful, as through a sky, On balanc'd wings, behold the vessel fly ; Invisibly impell'd, as though it felt A soul, within its heart of oak that dwelt, Which broke the billows with spontaneous force, Rul'd the free elements, and chose its course. Not so : — and yet along the trackless realm, A Hand unseen directs th' unconscious helm ; The Pow'r that sojourn'd in the cloud by day, A fire by night, on Israel's desert way ; That Pow'r th' obedient vessel owns : — His will, Tempest and calm, and death and life fulfil. Day following day, the current smoothly flows ; Labour is but refreshment from repose ; Perils are vanquish'd ; ev'ry fear resign'd ; Peace walks the wave, Hope carols on the wind ; And time so sweetly travels o'er the deep, They feel his motion like the fall of sleep On weary limbs, that, stretch'd in stillness, seem, To float upon the eddy of a stream, Then sink, — to wake in some transporting dream. Thus — while the Brethren far in exile roam, Visions of Greenland show their future home. —Now a dark spot, but bright'ning as it flies, A vagrant sea-fowl glads their eager eyes : How lovely, from the narrow deck to see The meanest link of nature's family, Which makes us feel, in dreariest solitude, Affinity with all that breathe renew'd ; M 242 THE MISSIONARY VOYAGE. At once a thousand kind emotions start, And the hlood warms and mantles round the heart ! Another and another day is past ; The fourth appears, — the loveliest and the last ; The sails are furl'd ; the anchor drags the sand ; The boat hath cross'd the creek ;— the Brethren land. " Many other parts of this truly interesting poem," said Julia, " are as worthy of selection as these. But quotation must have its limits." CHAPTER XIX RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. On Saturday morning, the Rev. Mr. Hamil- ton, and his friend Mr. Willoughby, took an inland ride, the latter leaving with his young people a Meditation, which he found in his desk, and which he had written on a former visit to the sea-side. Mrs. Hamilton calling in, with her family, this Meditation, at her request, was read. RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. " I had been reading of an extensive and de- structive inundation on the continent, wherein the feeble barriers raised by human art and strength, had been swept away ; and the impression made upon my mind, had been heightened by a reference to Cowper's Task, where he has sketched the de- solations in Sicily, by earthquake and flood. 32 32 Book II. The Time-piece. 244 RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. At this very time, ' no small tempest lay ' upon the sea, which beat furiously against the shore, as though it threatened the earth with invasion. It seemed that the Almighty had quitted his grasp upon the winds and waves, and given them unre- strained liberty. The inhabitants of the town, and the summer visitors, were assembled in great num- bers on the strand, which had been raised into an esplanade by human art, and had for many years stemmed the highest tides and roughest seas. There was, however, a part where a stream from a neighbouring ravine, in finding its way through the pebbles and sand, had undermined and weak- pned the artificial beach. This yielded to the reiterated assaults of the angry deep, which in an instant burst through the gap, and rushed into the valley. Several cottages on the green margin of the stream were overthrown, and some verdant and lovely meadows were inundated . But the waters, though supplied with fresh aid by every successive billow, did not reach far into the interior. The tide ebbed, the storm subsided, and, but for the shattered cottages and the wasted fields, we should now have looked at each other with amazement at our recent alarm, equal to what we had felt at the moment when the sea effected its breach in the embankment. I con- tinued my walk beneath the cliffs, as the tide receded, and encouraged a train of thought, to RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. 245 which what I had just witnessed gave rise. — I thought of Canute and his wise rebuke of the adulation of his courtiers, for I had often been upon the identical spot, where he is said to have uttered his memorable reproof; and I was naturally reminded of Jehovah's answer to Job, out of the whirlwind, after his friends had in vain endea- voured to silence the complaints of the afflicted Patriarch. T sat down beneath a towering cliff, which had defied all the fury of the recent tempest, and of all the storms of preceding centuries, and read the sublime passage : ' Who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb ? when I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swad- dling-band for it, and brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further : and here shall thy proud waves be stayed ? ' 33 Job xxxviii. 8 — 11. *' The few and far-between irruptions of the 38 " Thus far shall thy flux and reflux extend. The tides are marvellously limited and regulated, not only by the lunar and solar attraction, but by the quantum of time required to remove any part of the earth's surface, by the rotation of the earth round its axis, from under the immediate attractive influence of the sun and moon. Hence, the attraction of the sun and moon, and the gravitation of the sea to its own centre, which prevent too great a flux on the one hand, and too great a reflux on the other, are some of those bars and doors by which its proud waves are stayed, and prevented from coming farther." See Baxter's Comprehensive Bible. Note y on Job xxxviii. 11. 246 RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. deep, so far from impairing my faith in the con- trol exercised by the Lord over the mighty waters, rather tended to confirm it. I knew that not a single drop of the vast ocean could give itself motion, and that it was equally incapable of resisting any impulse which its Creator might impress upon it. I had just seen a partial instance of what it could do as an instrument in his hands. I pondered with admiration the restraint, as bene- volent as it is powerful, with which he limits its agency. The rocks, and cliffs, and highlands, soaring into mountains, form its doors ; but these, at their Maker's bidding, promptly give it ingress and egress, and stupendous as they are, excite my astonishment less than that occult restraining power, to which the Lord alludes, w^hen he says, ' I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling-band for it.' The cloudy, superincumbent atmosphere, and unknown shores, frowning darkness over its waters, are as the gar- ment and swaddling-bands which the Lord has thrown round it, and with which he confines it, as a nurse the infant in her arms. I hinted at the benevolence of this restraint. Yes : the great Mediator's eye and hand superintended the settle- ment of those laws by which the universe of waters is controlled. "When he prepared the heavens, I was there : when he set a compass upon the face of the depth : when he strengthened RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. 247 I he clouds above : when he strengthened the ountains of the deep : when he gave to the sea is decree, that the waters should not pass his ommandment : when he appointed the founda- tions of the earth : then — my delights were with the sons of men.' Then, Jesus, the power of God, and the wisdom of God, condescended to take delight in anticipating the wants and the happi- ness of the fallen race, whom he designed to recover and to save. " High-water mark, discernible along the entire range of a rocky coast, seems, to a thoughtful eye, to be inscribed with that decree of Jehovah, ' Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further : and keie shall thy proud waves be stayed.' There, at this moment, I see it lie in its decreed place, like a child in its cradle, whose passions have only rocked it into sounder sleep. Of late, with others, I trembled at the nearness and gigantic power of the foaming billows : and now I seem to hear Jehovah saying unto them, and unto me, by the mouth of his Prophet, ' Fear ye not me ? saith the Lord ; will ye not tremble at my presence, which have placed the sand for a bound of the sea, by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it : and though the waves thereof toss themselves, yet can they not prevail ; though they roar, yet can they not pass over it ? ' Jer. v. 22. Alas, at this very hour, which divine grace has taught and 248 RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. inclined me to improve, how many are forgetting, amidst their follies and their earthly cares, the voice that of late spake to them out of the whirl- wind, and the lesson of fear towards God which it was destined to teach them ! How few there are, who consider, that all the forms of beauty, or of terror, with which creation teems, are designed by their Author to convey instruction to man, and to promote in his bosom, either the love that draws, or the fear that impels. Are not floods and earth- quakes, thunders and lightnings, storms and tempests, eclipses and meteors, tornadoes and simooms, some of those tokens, which the Psalmist describes as awakening the fears of those, who dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea and land ? The poor uninformed heathen, accordingly, tremble at these 'tokens' of the presence and power of the Supreme Being, while nominal Christians behold in them nothing more than the results of certain established laws, by which the great Artificer has left his mundane machine to operate. " My thoughts had received an impulse, and they went on in the same track, while, alternately glancing at the Book of God, and at the works of its great Author, I sat unseen, except by heaven, and by the sea-bird as it flitted by. How similar, thought I, is my situation in the world, to that of an inhabitant of the sea-shore, who is exposed to RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. 249 the inundations of the waters ! Feeble are all, even the wisest schemes and precautions I may adopt, to secure my temporal lot from calamity. Times have been, when all have given way, and sorrow has burst in upon me with overwhelming force. It may be so again. But I am privileged to look and rise above the world, and all its alarms and dangers. 'Thou rulest the raging of the sea.' I recognize The secret pulse of thy omnipotence, That beats through every motion of the storm. " ' The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice : the floods lift up their waves ! The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters ; yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.' ' The Lord sitteth upon the flood ; yea, the Lord sitteth king for ever.' It cannot be in vain that I send my cry into his pre- sence, to entreat him not to ? let the waterflood overflow me, neither to let the deep swallow me up.' As the inundating tide stops where He com- mands it, and retires when it has accomplished his purpose ; so affliction cannot proceed beyond the limits of his appointment, and it will be with- drawn when it has fulfilled his merciful designs. My soul, too, is very much exposed to the deep waters of spiritual affliction. My own corruptions, M 2 250 RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. aided by the temptations of the world and of Satan, and assisted by the innate weakness of all my personal resources, sometimes rise as with an over- whelming force. This precious volume in my hand, however, supplies me with an unfailing resource, and helps me to lift up my heart in prayer, the language of which is recalled to my remem- brance by the scenes which I have been survey- ing. ' Save me, O God ; for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing ; I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.' I recollect, that my Saviour has been overtaken by the flood before me ; and rejoice in the assurance, that, as He, the glorious Head of his mystical body, the church, which must pass through great tribulation into the kingdom of heaven, has risen to an unap- proachable height above the waters, so in succes- sion will his members rise, and leave beneath them all the waves of this troublesome world. The Holy Book of God furnishes me with abundant promises, to encourage and sustain the prayer of faith. ' When the enemy cometh in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him.' " Refreshed by these thoughts, I retraced my steps along the shore, and returned homeward with a mind invigorated, to improve the present calm, or to meet the future storm. I observed RESTRAINT UPON THE SEA. 251 many hands strenuously engaged in repairing the breach effected by the sea, and preparing for the return of the tide. ' Such,' I said to myself, * is the part of man. It is his wisdom and his duty to adopt all precautionary means against the day of evil: nor less so, to leave those means and himself in the hands of God.' " CHAPTER XX. THE SHIPWRECK. Scarcely had the Rev. Mr. Hamilton and his friend returned from their ride, when the wind, which had been gradually rising through the morning, blew a perfect hurricane. A coasting brig was observed to be in great distress, and, in spite of every effort made by the crew and by some pilots who went from the shore, she was driven upon the rocks, and went to pieces. The crew, however, were most providentially saved by the spirited exertions of many, who incurred every risk to effect their rescue, and happily succeeded. The captain and his men were treated with Christian hospitality by the inhabitants of the town, and having been supplied with a change of clothing, through the kindness of the resident Clergyman and some of the visitors, they expressed their earnest desire to attend divine service on the Sunday morning, and publicly to return thanks to God for their deliverance. THE SHIPWRECK. 253 The house of God presented an impressive scene, being crowded to excess. So lively and deep was the sympathy excited, by the appearance of the preserved seamen, and their numerous brethren, who accompanied them, that it seemed as if the whole assembly had together just escaped from the horrors of shipwreck. During the pre- vious week, our friend the Vicar had received and returned a visit from the Rector of the Parish, who prevailed upon him to undertake to occupy the pulpit on the Sabbath. Mr. Hamilton had prepared several sermons suitable for a watering- place, and now delivered the following DISCOURSE, UPON THE SHIPWRECK OF ST. PAUL. Acts xxvii. 44. And so it came to pass, that they escaped all safe to land. "St. Luke's narrative of the voyage and ship- wreck of the Apostle Paul, on his passage to Rome, is fraught with interesting considerations to readers in general, but especially to mariners, and to residents upon the coasts of the mighty deep. Accordingly, I propose to place some par- ticulars of that narrative before you, with a few practical remarks, which may, under the blessed teaching of God the Holy Spirit, render our medi- tations personally profitable. It is not my inten- tion to offer you any critical observations on the 254 THE SHIPWRECK. several topics, which here open a field for the researches of the curious. My object will rather be to awaken reflection in the inconsiderate, and to direct and aid the faith of the believer, by a review and application of some circumstances in the voyage of St. Paul, which bear an instructive analogy to our own situation and prospects. For, beloved brethren, we are upon a voyage : time is the sea across which we are sailing : human life is the frail vessel in which we are embarked : our ultimate destination is the tribunal of the Uni- versal King, whither we are going for judgment : in the conduct of the voyage, human opinion is too commonly regarded, in preference to divine direc- tion : we are surrounded by dangers, great, numerous, and imminent, in the midst of which, the believer alone enjoys perfect security : we are impressively taught the inseparable connexion be- tween the means and the end : no sacrifice is to be spared to insure our preservation : a ship wreck awaits us all : but final salvation will be the result of faith in the divine word. On each of these particulars I proceed to make some brief observa- tions, for a part of which I hold myself indebted to others, who have preceded me in this use of St. Luke's narrative. "I. We ourselves are upon a voyage. — We entered upon this voyage on our first coming into life ; we have ever since been pressing onwards ; THE SHIPWRECK. 255 and to stop or to return is not in our power. We must go forward. Nor do we know how long or how short may be the time to be spent in our course. We may be very rapidly carried across the waters, and terminate our voyage to our own astonishment and that of others. Or we may be lingeringly detained upon our way, beyond all expectation. At sea or in a foreign port, the sea- man considers himself to be on his voyage. He finds no place of lasting rest, between the harbour from which he starts and the haven for which he is bound. He may touch at many ' Fair havens/ but none of them are his haven. Fair as they may be to the eye, they have neither the commodious- ness nor safety of his own port. Nor have we here any continuing city. Again and again are we startled by a voice from unseen lips, ' Arise and depart ; for this is not your rest, because it is polluted.' Brethren, endeavour seriously to enter into this view of your actual situation in the present world. " II. Time is the sea across which we are sailing. — As the Creator's hand has thrown around the sea impassable barriers, except where it issues in a more ample expanse of waters : so has he set limits to time, which is to issue in the boundless ocean of eternity. I may be pardoned a personal allusion. At this moment I am con- scious of the awful sensation which I once felt in 256 THE SHIPWRECK. my school-boy days, when I had ventured into a crazy little boat, upon a rapid stream not far from its mouth, and I perceived myself being hurried towards the ocean. Let us each thoughtfully ponder the narrowness and the treacherous nature of the scene we have to traverse, and the incon- ceivable extent of that future in which the present will terminate. Yonder element is not so deceit- ful to him who embarks upon its surface, as is human life to the children of men. The gentle ripplings of the waters round the vessel are like the kisses of an enemy, nor less so are the smiles of this present evil world. It is not to be trusted, even when it appears the most inviting : no, not even when its smooth surface reflects the cloudless heavens. It is but a reflection — a picture — a visionary semblance of glory and happiness, and he, who should infatuatedly strive to reach the imaged heaven below, would perish in the attempt. "HI. Human life is the frail vessel in which we are embarked. — When man first came from the hands of his divine Maker, he was perfect and immortal. But sin introduced death, and the countless other ills, which have impaired the once goodly fabric of our nature. In the ante- diluvian race it retained enough of its pristine vigour to weather the changes of nearly a thou- sand years : but now it is scarcely sea-worthy for a voyage that is to continue but threescore years THE SHIPWRECK. 257 and ten. As in our navy it is an extraordinary- circumstance, for the most skilfully constructed vessel to last beyond a certain limited number of years ; so, instances of particular longevity amongst mankind are looked upon with wonder, as excep- tions to the general order of things. That which is perishable, indeed, is confined to, one of the constituent parts of our nature ; and the animal life and its organized frame, the body, may with the greater propriety be compared with the frail and fragile bark, exposed to the gnawing worm, and the destructive elements. So far from the number of marine calamities being a matter of surprise, it is, rather, astonishing that so many vessels outlive the storm that agitates the waters : and, looking at the fine, delicate, and compara- tively feeble texture of the human frame, we are amazed at its lasting so long. Truly, we are fear- fully and wonderfully made : and if a vessel, com- pletely equipped and navigating the ocean, be worthy of admiration as the master-piece of human ingenuity, how much honour and praise are due to God, for the consummate wisdom which he has displayed in the organization of that most exqui- site machine, the human body ! This is the vessel in which we pilgrims to eternity are prosecuting our eventful and momentous voyage — a vessel, as frail in its durability as it is marvellous in its construction. 258 THE SHIPWRECK. "IV. Our ultimate destination is the TRIBUNAL OF THE UNIVERSAL KlNG, WHITHER we are going for judgment. — This observa- tion, you easily apprehend, is founded upon the circumstances under which St. Paul and his fellow prisoners sailed for Rome. He had ap- pealed unto Csesar, from the partial and unjust judgment of inferior tribunals. They were pro- ceeding to take their trial at Rome, from similar or other causes. We all are not only charged with guilt, but actually guilty. We stand most evi- dently convicted of high treason against the Majesty of Heaven. We have ourselves taken up arms against our rightful sovereign, and have joined with others in open rebellion against his throne. Our hearts have been at enmity with God, and our lives opposed to his will. The law has already passed its sentence — Death ! The sinner is on his way to hear this awful sentence confirmed, and fully executed. Indeed, he is now spiritually dead. Temporal death is at hand. Eternal death, with all its bitter pains, its worm that never dies, and its flame that never can be quenched, is the plenary penalty that awaits him. But the Son of God has most graciously interposed. His spotless obedience and atoning death have expiated the rebellion of man. He has become the Saviour of all men ; though in the end, espe- cially and exclusively of them that believe in his THE SHIPWRECK. 259 name. * There is now, therefore, no condemna- tion to them that are in Christ Jesus.' The law, indeed, is not rescinded, but the believer has a valid and unfailing appeal to ' the Judge of all/ and he is proceeding to the great tribunal to hear the joyful sentence of bis acquittal pronounced in the presence of assembled worlds. On his voyage, it is true, he may have to complain of still being ' tied and bound with the chain of his sins/ and exposed to the malice and violence of his spiritual adversaries, who may sometimes threaten him with destruction ; but then, like St. Paul, he is cheered by a voice from heaven : ' Fear not ! - " On the other hand, how unblest are they, who can make no such appeal as the believer in the Lord Jesus Christ ! Like convicts on their voyage, they may endeavour, and may even suc- ceed in the infatuated attempt, to banish thought. Their carelessness and mirth, however, does not alter either their character or their destination. They must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, to give an account of the things done in the body ; and if they have not previously known, loved, and served him, as their Lord and Saviour, they must at last tremblingly acknowledge him as their unrelenting Judge, and for ever suffer the tremendous penalty of his just wrath. " V. In the conduct of the voyage, hu- man OPINION IS TOO COMMONLY REGARDED, IN 260 THE SHIPWRECK. PREFERENCE TO THE DIVINE WORD. — That WOrd may be styled the book of spiritual navigation; and it contains charts and instructions, precisely adapted to the wants of man. Its origin is divine, for God is its Author. Its contents are beyond price, for they are unmixed truth. But who has not fallen into perilous and ruinous errors, by neglecting this heavenly directory ? Who has not, in his own conduct, manifested the proneness of our nature to follow the dictates of human, rather than divine wisdom ? ' The centurion be- lieved the master and the owner of the ship, more than those things which were spoken by Paul.' * Thus it happens with us, on many occasions/ and on none more than where our souls are con- cerned. ' We go to man for advice, and miscarry ; when we might have it from God, and succeed. We live in an age when human wisdom is magni- fied far beyond its value ; and, in the course of our education, we take its authority implicitly in many things, where the Bible would teach us better, and make us wiser, as well as happier. For want of this, we too frequently make shipwreck of faith ; and, in many instances, reason, learning, true policy, and true philosophy, are shipwrecked along with it.' Brethren, in the Holy Scriptures you have an infallible chart, and a compass whose needle is subject to no variations. It points with unvarying accuracy to the polar star of human THE SHIPWRECK. 261 hopes, and that star is Christ. But as the mari- ner cannot avail himself of his charts and his compass, without the aid of light : so we require the revealing influences of 'the Holy Spirit, to guide us into all truth. Be encouraged to look to God for light ; for ' the meek will he guide in judgment : the meek will he teach his way.' "VI. We are surrounded by dangers, GREAT, NUMEROUS, AND IMMINENT; IN THE MIDST OF WHICH, THE BELIEVER IN CHRIST alone enjoys perfect security. — How for- midable, and countless, and near are the perils of the seaman's life ! It has, with perfect truth, been said, that there is but an inch between him and death — the mere thickness of the plank which separates him from the closely pressing wave. In a calm, or in the fairest gale, the bare starting of a plank may give entrance to the sea, and in the twinkling of an eye he may founder and perish. Fire may, as it were, form an un- natural alliance with its natural enemy, water ; and he may sustain the very extreme of human misery. In addition to these and innumerable other evils, the lee-shore, the sunken rock, and the tempest, often threaten his safety. And how subtile — how thin and weak is the separation between us all and death ! How often is the smiling, but deceitful calm, fatal to the soul ! How destructive are the passions, when they break 262 THE SHIPWRECK. out, and rage with ungovernable fury ! How many- concealed — how many sudden calamities lurk around us, or are ready to burst upon us ! The navigator of time's peril-thronged sea has to be on his guard in more than one spot, where a Scylla and a Charybdis watch for his destruction. How often, during his voyage, does Euroclydon rise in all his fury ! How frequently is he ' exceedingly tossed with the tempest ! ' Are there not seasons when he is, as it were, ' driven up and down in Adria : when neither sun nor stars in many days appear : when no small tempest lies on him ; and all hope that he shall be saved is taken away : when fear points a rock beneath every wave ; when all resources seem to fail; and when his eyes fail in looking for the morning? Many temporal trials are aptly pictured by these cir- cumstances of the Apostle's literal voyage. Nor are they less descriptive of the Christian's spi- ritual difficulties.' " But ' God is often nearest to his saints, when he appears farthest off. To us, indeed, short- sighted as we are, it is more easy to discover and acknowledge his attention, when we are sensible of his bounty. We see and adore the hand of the Creator, in the clearness of the fountain, the brightness of the sunshine, and the calmness of the ocean ; but his power as a Saviour, is mani- fested in the storms and troubles of life. Therefore THE SHIPWRECK. 263 he brings his servants into distress, that he may- make his power known by bringing them out of it; with this farther advantage to themselves, that they are exercised and improved by the trial of their faith. It is for this end that we see the life of the great Apostle diversified with such contrary visitations. On the occasion mentioned in the text, we see him on ship-board, in the company of soldiers and sailors, whose conversation is too generally of the coarsest sort, and upon the lowest subjects : very unsuitable to the dignity and purity of an Apostle. But in this situation, it pleases God to distinguish and exalt him as a preacher and a deliverer. The ship that carries him becomes like the ark of Noah ; he himself is like that second father of mankind, and all the souls embarked with him, whatever their charac- ter may be, are preserved for his sake.' Thus the Christian is the special object of divine care. He has upon him the seal — the mark of God, who seems to say to him, in all situations of trial, ' Fear not : for I have redeemed thee ; I have called thee by thy name ; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee!' Frequently, too, are the unregenerated spared for the sake of the people of God ; and not seldom are the prayers and labours of believers blessed to the salvation of many. ' Lo, God hath given thee all them that sail with thee/ 264 THE SHIPWRECK. "VII. We are impressively taught the in- separable CONNEXION BETWEEN THE MEANS and the end. — 'Except these ! abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved.' The sailors were about to aban- don the vessel, secure themselves, as they thought, and leave their companions to their fate. Now, St. Paul had been assured, by an angel of God, that in this voyage there should be no loss of any man's life. He had expressed his own full assurance of this fact. ' Sirs, be of good cheer : for I believe God, that it shall be even as it was told me/ Yet, in this critical moment, the Apostle declared, that the safety of the whole depended upon their abiding in the ship, and pursuing the plan which he should prescribe. ' To suppose an end, is to suppose the means that lead to it : to hope to obtain the end, through a dependance on the divine promises, while we neglect the means which should lead to that end, is the sin of tempt- ing God : we tempt him to transgress the rules of his own wisdom and justice, by an undue exercise of his power. He promises to work with us, not without us : his help is an encouragement to labour, not an excuse for idleness. The promises of God are a security to those who work under them.' " ' What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.' He has established a necessary connexion between cause and effect, between means THE SHIPWRECK. 265 and end. The submission of the whole man to the obedience of faith — the believing heart — the spiritual and heavenly walk — are the prescribed means. The end is salvation. Happily for us, our great Surety has undertaken all for us. ' Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling : for it is God that worketh in us to will and to do, of his good pleasure.' " VIII. No SACRIFICE IS TO BE SPARED TO insure our preservation. — 'They lightened the ship, and cast out the wheat into the sea.' r What will not men do for the saving of their lives? Their bread itself is cast away, when it endangers the life it ought to preserve. Thus should men act for the saving of their souls : they should lay aside every weight that would render their escape from sin and sorrow more difficult and hazardous. Nothing must be retained that is inconsistent with their safety. A ship-load of corn is of no value, when men are sinking with the weight of it to the bottom of the sea ; and what are all the possessions of this life, but super- fluous and destructive, if their tendency is to sink the soul into perdition ? When a vessel on a tempestuous sea is about to founder, with the weight of the corn she has on board, then it be- comes undeniable, that the life of the mariners does not consist in the abundance of the things which they possess ; so far from it, that from hence N 266 THE SHIPWRECK. is their danger ; and their abundance is their ruin. Every man who abounds with earthly possessions, in u world of sin and temptation, is in danger of being overset by them. If there were no storms in life, no blind appetites to agitate and disorder us, we might then possess much with little danger : a vessel deeply laden may float in a calm sea. But when the winds blow, and the waves arise, and there is a bottomless gulph underneath, ready to swallow us up, the meanest understanding must be convinced, that abundance is not to be coveted. Suppose a ship to be laden with the treasures of the Indies : suppose her to be painted, and gilded, and carved, with all possible elegance ; of what use is all this, when she is going to be cast away with her own weight ? Then, the plain, unorna- mented, light-freighted vessel, which bounds over the waves, and bears her passengers safe into the port, is rather to be chosen. Look at the great and the wealthy of this world, and see how often they are tossed about with storm and passion, beyond the experience of other men ; the slaves of pride, avarice, and ambition ; to the torment of their lives and the hazard of their souls. ' They that will be rich/ saith the Apostle, ' fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition/ — We are embarked on a dangerous ocean ; and the great question with us all, is, or at THE SHIPWRECK. 267 least, ought to be, this — ' What shall we do to be saved ? * One method is, to lighten the vessel so far as it is necessary ; to throw aside every weight that may endanger our salvation ; and to cast out even the wheat itself into the sea, when the pro- vision we have made for the body endangers the life of the soul ; that so we may escape out of this troublesome world, naked and unprovided, to the heavenly shore.' O brethren, if any of you are in circumstances that call for such a sacrifice, seek strength of God to dispose and enable you to make it : for no easy thing is it to give up the en- cumbering possessions and honours of this world, even when we clearly perceive that they endanger our interests in the world which is to come. The young Ruler, mentioned in the gospel, perished within view of heaven, 'because he had great possessions.' Not that any temporal sacrifices can purchase our salvation. Far be the erroneous and ruinous thought! The only and sufficient price of that has been given in the blood of the Lamb. This needs no addition. The ransom is complete. But unbelief and unmodified lusts may debar the soul from all benefit resulting from that atonement. " IX. A SHIPWRECK AWAITS US ALL. ' HoW- beit we must be cast upon a certain island/ The event fulfilled the prediction. ' It is also appointed unto men, once to die.' To the impenitent and 268 THE SHIPWRECK. faithless, this necessity is most terrific. Death will be to them a hopeless and irremediable wreck. If they remain such, they must inevitably sink into the gulph which has no bottom or shore ; where torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd. " The believer, too, must suffer shipwreck, but not the wreck of all. These fragile barks — these mortal bodies, must be dissolved, either, as it were by the sudden dash of the tempests, or by the gradually destructive e violence of the waves.' Infant life, like the light skiff, which fills and sinks in the first wave it meets : youth, though resembling the gaily and richly ornamented yacht : manhood, though strong as the heart of oak that proudly rides in the embattled line ; and age, already assimilated to the vessel which is on its last voyage, and then destined to be broken up — all sustain the terrific shock of death. But, behold St. Paul, standing in undaunted firmness upon the deck when the vessel strikes, and is torn piece-meal by the fierce elements ! Amidst the general confusion and dismay, he is tranquil. Memory recals the promise of that God, whose he is, and whom he serves. Still, he seems to hear the voice of the angel, breathing softly through the THE SHIPWRECK. 269 howlings of the storm, 'Fear not, Paul!* His calm and intrepid conduct in the hour of extremest peril is a strong encouragement to those around him. " Believer in the Son of God, it is thy privilege thus to stand upon the verge of life, and anticipate its wreck. Paint the scene in all its possible hor- rors. View the angel of death riding upon every dark billow. Then call to mind the last words of Moses, before Israel crossed the overflowings of Jordan. ' There is none like unto the God of Jeshurun, who rideth upon the heaven in thy help, and in his excellency on the sky. The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. — Happy art thou, O Israel : who is like unto thee, O people, saved by the Lord ! ' While others, who, having lived without faith and love towards the Saviour, die without hope, shrink back from the wave which is to wreck their all, — thou art permitted to adopt the Apostle's language on another occasion, and to exclaim, in the near view of thy last, great change, ' I know whom I have believed, (or trusted,) and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.' V Brethren, were you to experience the wreck of dissolving nature before to-morrow's sun shall rise upon the earth, what, judging from the present state of your souls, (and that forms the 270 THE SHIPWRECK. only correct rule of judgment,) what would be your situation ? Would you be cast away and perish, or would you * escape all safe to land—to the shore of heaven ? These questions may in- troduce our last observation. "X. Final salvation will be the result of faith in the divine word. — We read no particulars respecting St. Paul's deliverance. We are generally informed, that ' they who could swim, boldly cast themselves into the sea, and got to land ; and the rest, some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship. And so it came to pass, that they escaped all safe to land.' This may beautifully illustrate the varied circumstances attendant upon the manner in which believers are ultimately saved. God honoured, by temporal preservation, the confidence placed in his word by St. Paul and his shipwrecked companions, although that confidence was distinguished by every possible diversity of shade, from the un- doubting faith of the Apostle, to the trembling hope of the most timid. The degree of personal comfort, peace, and joy, possessed by Christians in dying circumstances, chiefly depends upon the degree of faith which they exercise in the divine promises, and is usually commensurate with the devotional spirituality of their previous life. But salvation is freely promised and given to faith as a divine principle, irrespectively of its extent — to THE SHIPWRECK. 271 faith in the atoning blood and justifying righteous- ness of the Lord Jesus Christ. Some, strong in faith, and giving glory to God, like St. Paul, courageously meet their last hour, and land in grateful triumph upon the heavenly shore ; while others reach that shore, as it were, clinging in trembling hope to some plank or broken fragment of the ship. The former are buoyed up through the waters by the vigorous efforts of faith in the whole word and work of the Saviour. The latter are just sustained by a hold upon some one promise of his word. But all are ultimately saved, who have been enabled by grace to believe in Jesus, and to receive his word as the basis of their hopes, and the directory of their course in life. " Here the allegorical parallel fails. St. Paul, indeed, and his companions, found safety, and even experienced kindness, on that unknown shore : but they still were strangers in a strange land, and far from home and rest. Not so the Christian, when he arrives upon that coast, which to him is as yet known only by testimony. It is not a bare rescue from the bottomless abyss of hell : it is not mere safety that he expects, and that he there will realize. It is more — infinitely more. ' Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, what God hath prepared for them that love him.' It is a state, of which fruitful Canaan, and still more fruitful Eden, 272 THE SHIPWRECK. were faintly typical. It is heaven — the fulness of joy, and pleasure for evermore. It is the presence of God, the enjoyment of his love, the partici- pation of his glory, and a transformation into his image. " Thither may we all ultimately arrive ; recount the perils and mercies of our voyage ; congratulate each other on our rescue and our happiness ; offer up thanks for our preservation in the Celestial Temple, and join the song of praise to our great Deliverer. Amen." The preacher introduced a short and touching address, directed more immediately to the ship- wrecked mariners, which, being only of local and temporary interest and application, is here omitted. CHAPTER XXL THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. The mind of a truly devout Christian is not satisfied with a single visit to the house of God on the Sabbath day, when an opportunity presents itself for repeating that visit. The second service of the sanctuary is as important and desirable to him, as the first ; nor can he fall into the fashion- able and unchristian practice of leaving that second service to servants, and other members of the lower ranks of society. He feels it alike his duty and privilege to consecrate to God the afternoon and evening of the day of rest; and scrupulously discountenances, by his example, the desecration of those seasons to the lounge and the promenade. Our two families again met in the afternoon, in the church-path, and as they had much antici- pated the time for the commencement of divine service, they occupied some seats which had been placed there for the accommodation of visitors. The sacred enclosure around the church com- n2 274 THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. manded a wide view of the sea, whose now placid surface tended to soothe the reflective mind, and prepare it for the employments of the sanctuary. On looking inland, the sun was seen to gild several village towers and spires, whose bells mingled their sounds in the passing gale, and led Theophilus to recite a few lines, to which he was very partial. " Come, come to me," the meek Redeemer cries ; " Come, come to Christ," the echoing bell replies : " Come, all ye weary, all ye heavy prest, Your burthens bring, and I will give you rest." Arise, my soul, and joyful leave thy home, And, answering, say, " I come, dear Lord, I come !" "lam here forcibly reminded," said the Vicar, * of one of the scenes of my early labours, and of an event connected with that scene, and partly arising instrumentally out of those labours. For three years my duty called me every Sunday afternoon to the service of a small church, at two or three miles distance from our residence. The local population did not amount to a hundred, but there were many villages within an easy walk, and from these, many persons attended with an apparent desire to hear the word of God. It also served as a kind of test, to try and elicit the earnestness of many in my larger parish, who, by thus seeking the advantage of a second, or even THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. 275 a third service, encountered some little obloquy from their less anxious neighbours, and were called to an avowal, that they * esteemed the words of their Saviour more than their necessary food.' Many a handful of precious seed was I wont to scatter by the way, as I happened to overtake the various groups of villagers on their road ; and often was my own soul refreshed by the unrestrained utterance of their simple piety. The flowering hedges, and green lanes, and bleat- ing flocks, aided my meditations when I was alone, and supplied me with many an apt illus- tration of the subject, on which I was about to address my rustic congregations ; while my thoughts experienced a sensible expansion and elevation, when, as I approached the hamlet, I caught bold views of the B Channel, and the hilly country beyond it. L church stood just below the brow of a hill, which intervened between it and the shore, and gave it a partial shelter from high westerly gales ; though I have often proceeded with my gospel message, when my voice could with difficulty surmount the mingled roar of the tempest and the waters, and when the wind has been making rude and forcible entrance through the unceiled roof of our simple edifice. O how they listened to the word of life ! How eagerly did the mechanic and the husband- man lend an ear to that gospel, which told them 276 THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. of Him, who himself had once become poor to make them rich ; who had shed his blood to wash away their guilt, and to save them from eternal misery ; and who had purchased and prepared for them a place of repose, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest ! I sometimes felt a joy worth more than worlds, while, amidst the mingled uproar of the winds and neighbouring waves, I preached unto them Jesus, as ' the way, the truth, and the life/ ' able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him/ " There, often knelt and sat one, to me unknown but by her countenance, who was removed to her Lord's more immediate presence before I became acquainted with the circumstances which I am about to relate. She was the child of parents in a middling station of life, who had endeavoured to instruct her in true religion, and used to bring her with them to our little church. Her age might be about twenty, and her general health seemed to promise length of days. Mary G loved to hear the gospel, though as yet she did not feel her personal need of its great and gracious provision for lost sinners. Her opinion of her own safety had not been disturbed, and she enter- tained no doubt that her prospects for eternity were fair. It pleased the convincing Spirit of God, however, to teach her a very different lesson. THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. 277 She was enlightened to see the utter defectiveness of her own righteousness, moral and creditable as had been the tenor of her outward life ; and she was brought into great spiritual distress at the perception of her real state, as a sinner before God, without any personal plea in her behalf in bar of the condemnatory sentence of the holy and broken law. At this juncture she was taken ill, and her sickness proved to be unto death. Her mental disquietude and alarm increased with her indisposition, until she sunk into the very depths of despair. It was impossible, she would say, for one, who, being actually so vile, had fancied and prided herself upon being righteous, to obtain the mercy promised in the gospel, only to the broken- hearted and consciously guilty sinner. She now pleaded against her own soul with even more ardour than she had previously argued for its safety. ' Her soul refused to be comforted ' by any of the numerous and scriptural suggestions of her religious friends ; and it seemed as if she was to go down to the grave sorrowing, and without hope. if One day, not long before her decease, being engaged in conversation with her nurse, who, happily, was not ignorant of the truth as it is in Jesus, Mary G adopted the same line of self-condemning argument, and stated, in strong and affecting terms, that she could not believe in 278 THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. the Saviour ; — that she found herself incapable of so reposing in him, as to find rest and peace to her soul. ' Then/ said her nurse, with a kind of desperate animation, on finding that all her en- deavours to inspire hope and confidence were fruitless, — ' Then turn your back upon the Saviour ! ' ' Turn my back upon Him ! ' replied Mary, ' no : never ! Nurse, be kind enough to leave me.' The nurse quitted the room, and waited till Mary summoned her to return, who, on her re-entrance, thus addressed her. '* O nurse, your words sunk to my heart, and, by the blessing of God, have done that for me which nothing else could effect. I have approached the Lord Jesus Christ in prayer, and he has heard me. Now I can — now I do believe ! ' " From that time, the soul of Mary G was released from its bondage and its terrors, and they never returned. Within a few days, she peacefully breathed out her spirit into the hands of Him, whom she now knew and rejoiced in, as the Lord our righteousness. Since that period, I have seldom, if ever, visited a church situated near the sea coast, without recollecting Mary G , and the remarkable manner in which it pleased God to bring her soul to peace. May we, in waiting upon God, in this his storm-beaten temple > ex- perience the application of his promises to our own hearts, and feel both excited and encouraged THE SEA-SIDE HAMLET. 279 to walk worthy of Him, who hath called us to his kingdom and glory, through a system of mercy which as effectually honours his law as it secures our salvation. May the constant supply of his blessed Spirit keep us at middle distance from self-justifying pride and ignorance, and from Christ-distrusting and cheerless despondency. It may be a question, which is most dishonourable to the Lord — the pride of the pharisaical, the wilful transgression of the profligate, or the un- belief of the despairing. Of this we may be assured, that we cannot glorify the Saviour more than by implicitly crediting his promise, ' Him that cometh to me, I will in nowise cast out.' Let us now go to his footstool, and humbly, yet confidently, plead for the fulfilment of his faithful word." CHAPTER XXII HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. The Willoughbys and two or three other friends, having, at their own request, been cheer- fully permitted to meet the Vicar's family in his drawing-room, at the hour of domestic prayer in the evening, the simple service was opened with a hymn, the subject of which was the more ap- propriate and touching, because another storm had gathered in the atmosphere, and was then hanging over the sea in dense and almost tangible blackness, which was alternately relieved and heightened by the lightning's flash, " wrapping ether in a blaze." HYMN. Dark, and darker low'rs the sky — Ocean swells — the iightnings glare — Thunder rends the torrid air — All proclaim Jehovah nigh ! From his eye that vivid flash — From His foot that pealing crash ! 281 Could'st thou meet Him, my soul ! — Meet him, and be undismay'd, Should He now, in clouds array'd, Come and fire the melting pole ? Could'st thou hail his Advent now, Glad in heart, with lifted brow ? Yes : though frail this mortal bark, Anchor'd to th' Eternal Rock, I can meet the tempest's shock, Calm, as rode the pilgrim's ark, When, to wreck and ruin hurl'd, Sunk the former guilty world. Hope, my anchor, steadfast, sure, Holds me to my Saviour's side ; Where, while safely moor'd I ride, Faith, my cable, will endure. Come, Lord Jesus ! — quickly come, Take thy storm-worn pilgrim home ! This and the concluding hymn were Julia's, who had written them the preceding evening; but none knew that they were her compositions, except her father, who now expounded the passage of Holy Writ, which had aided her in writing them. " God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath : that, by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the 282 hope set before us : which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil ; whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus." Heb. vi. 17—20. " I observed," said the Vicar, in his exposition, " that, besides the wreck, which we all witnessed, the storm of yesterday drove many vessels from their moorings in the harbour. A few only rode out the storm. This circumstance powerfully brought to my recollection the words of St. Paul, which I have now read. The persons, who are interested in the strong consolation, derivable from the immutability of the divine counsel, are ' the heirs of promise.' In other words, believers. Every soul that receives, believes, and rests upon the covenant engagements of God in Christ, is an ' heir of promise/ having a title to all the present grace and future glory, which are embraced by the exceeding great and precious promises of God. An heir of large estates may be robust or feeble : but this does not affect the validity of his title, although it may affect his enjoyment, from the anticipation of his future lot. So the heir of divine promise may be strong or weak in faith : but his claim remains unchangeable, though his comfort of expectation may vary. Are we humble, penitent believers in the word of the Lord ? HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. 283 " Observe the ground of faith. It is Jehovah's promise. In that promise God deems it of high importance, both for his own glory and our hap- piness, that we should unhesitatingly rest. The adverb ' more abundantly/ here, connects with the participle ' willing/ and expresses, if we may so speak, the earnest desire of God, that his people should implicitly believe him. What a singular display of condescension ! Oh, that we were as abundantly willing to believe, as the Lord is that we should believe. Lord, increase our faith ! We believe a friend — a tried friend, upon his bare promise. We give credit even to a stranger, upon his oath, though ignorance may have betrayed him into error, and though villainy may have led him into the crime of perjury. And do we hesitate to place full confidence in the word of our tried heavenly friend ? In condescension, therefore, to our pitiable weakness, God confirms his promise by an oath. " It is his counsel — it is his will, that those who believe in Jesus, shall have all that is really beneficial to them, both of temporal and spiritual good, in their passage through time into eternity — pardon, favour, justification, assisting grace, con- solation, peace, hope, joy, and in the world to come, life everlasting. This is the counsel of God. The unbeliever rejects this gracious counsel against himself. The child of faith is here invited to 284 HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. meditate upon its immutability. As soon shall the very throne of the Eternal totter to its fall, as his counsel change. Can the wisdom which formed the design vacillate? Can the power which has undertaken its execution fail? Can the love which delighteth in mercy grow indifferent to the objects of its choice ? In a word, Can the faithfulness of God lose its very essence ? No : it is impossible for God to lie. How strong is the consolation which we may have from these con- siderations ! Consolation, strong in itself, and infusing strength into the heart that receives it. Consolation, not soft and yielding, as the treacherous quicksands of earthly comfort: but firm, stable, - everlasting consolation/ like the immovable and imperishable rock. He who stands upon such a rock, seems to feel a portion of its firmness communicated to himself. His footing is sure. Consolation, derived from the promises of our reconciled God and Father, and applied by the Holy Spirit, is the strength of the soul. ' It strengthens the weak hands, and confirms the feeble knees. It is as a munition of rocks to the believer — a strong tower, wherein he feels himself to be safe. " The persons entitled to this strong consolation are again described to be those, ' who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before them/ The image may be borrowed from the cities of HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. 285 refuge, appointed by God for the shelter of those who might accidentally commit man-slaughter. Those cities were well-known; and the roads that conducted to them were straight, broad, and kept in good repair ; and the fugitives who fled thither from the avengers of blood, obtained within their walls a sure and certain hope of safety. But may not the comparison have another scene in view ? May it not be taken from the stormy sea? A tempest arises : the ocean is convulsed : the ele- ments seem to conspire the destruction of every thing within their reach. The alarmed mariners make for the harbour, and having arrived within its sheltering basin, they are secure. Or they have recourse to another expedient, as we read in the narrative of St. Paul's shipwreck : ' Then, fearing lest they should have fallen upon rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern, and wished for the day.' This is the scene before us. Are we ourselves the subjects of the picture? Have we, alarmed by the terrors of the holy law of God, which we have violated, ' fled for refuge to the hope set before us ' in the gospel ? And can we truly and thankfully add, ' which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast'? " Faith, like the mariner's cable, lays hold upon the anchor of hope ; and hope, grasping some pro- jection of the rock, or entering into the firm bottom 286 HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR, of the sea, holds the vessel through the storm. Every wave and every blast may try the believer's feeble bark, but the strength of the anchor more than compensates for the weakness of the vessel. Faith and hope are the Christian's hold on Christ. All the tempests which may issue from the gates of hell can never unloose that hold, or avail to sink into perdition the frailest bark that navigates the sea of human life. " In the 18th verse, the Apostle seems to speak of the object of hope, as laid hold on by faith : and in the 1 9 th verse, of the grace of hope, as formed in the believing heart. This grace, supported in its exercise by the Holy Spirit of God, is to the soul as an anchor to the ship. The sight or men- tion of this nautical instrument, implies the possi- bility or existence of circumstances, in which it may be useful and even requisite. Am I driven by fierce tempests towards a lee shore, where inevitable destruction points every rock, while my vessel is no longer controllable by the helm ? Am I impetuously hurried by spiritual terrors towards despair, or towards those spiritual evils on which faith is liable to be shipwrecked ? What shall I do? To tack may be impossible. To remain stationary for even a moment is equally impossible. I must cast out my anchor of hope, to stay my vessel from her fatal course, and to retain her in safety, though in a state of agitation, till the storm HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. 287 subsides. But even in port, while the mariners are attending to the lading or unlading of their ship, an anchor is necessary, that it may be kept in a steady posture. So, in the Christian life, the hope of the gospel is essential to my peace, that I may not, as St. Paul elsewhere expresses it, like children in little skiffs, over which they have no power, be tossed to and fro upon the mighty deep, and carried about with every wind of doc- trine. Amidst the outward storms of temporal affliction, and amidst the cares of worldly business, I greatly need this stay and support. The mariner lets down his anchor through the waves and dark*- ness of the ocean, by its cable, until it fixes itself below ; so our hope, let out, as it were, by the sure word of God, entereth into that wherein it fasteneth itself, and fixeth the soul. But we have heard of, and even seen instances of vessels breaking from their moorings, and being either cast away or driven out to sea. The cable I has given way ; or the fluke, or ring of the anchor, I has been broken ; or the anchor has lost its hold, and been dragged along the bottom. The faith, however, of the people of God is of divine work- manship, and will not fail. As to their hope, their anchor, it is sure and steadfast. The mate- rials are firm and durable. It cannot break. It is a hope that maketh not ashamed. It is not the alloyed anchor of the hypocrite, shining, but soft 288 and yielding. It is not the wooden log, or the bundle of straw, which are the only and the ruinous hopes of multitudes. But it is of solid and durable metal, firm and invincible against all that may assail it : not, indeed, so much from itself, as from the ground on which it fixes, namely, Christ in the promise. It entereth into that within the veil. As the holy of holies was concealed from the eye by the veil, and as the rock on which the anchor fastens is covered by the waves, so the hope of the believing soul embraces and holds fast an invisible Saviour. The vessel is still at the mercy of the winds and waves, until the anchor reaches and grapples the bottom. It can- not fasten in the yielding wave. So is the soul in a wavering, unsettled, and unsafe state, until its hope reaches and lays hold upon Jesus Christ our Lord. May our meditations upon this portion of the divine word have this blessed issue. Amen." The Vicar then offered up an appropriate prayer; after which the other hymn was sung, and the social and domestic congregation se- parated. HYMN. O how strong the consolation, God's unchanging love affords ! Heirs of promise, your salvation Hangs upon Jehovah's words : He can never Swerve from what his word records. Everlasting hills surrounding, Lo, your refuge opens wide ! There, through grace on grace abounding, Fearless of the ocean tide, Heirs of promise, You may evermore abide. Sooner shall the wild wave sever Alp from Alp, and dash the sky, Than Eternal Truth shall ever Oath-seal'd promises deny. Thine, believer, Is the God who cannot lie. Hope, on thy dear Lord depending, As the anchor holds the keel, When the universe is rending, Firm and steadfast, shall reveal How securely Thou art fix'd within the veil. The storm had been only of short duration, and had rolled majestically away below the horizon, while the moon, riding in calm triumph across the sky, smiled upon the path of those of the little assembly, who now separated and retired to their homes. How enviable were their feelings, and 290 HOPE THE SOUL'S ANCHOR. how different from those experienced by " the children of this world," when they withdraw from scenes of Sabbath dissipation, or from society where God is forgotten, and the soul is undone ! The moon, meanwhile, o'er ocean's sombre bed, New ris'n, a thousand glow-worm lights had spread; From east to west the wildfire splendours glance, And all the billows in her glory dance ; 'Till, in mid-heav'n, her orb might seem the eye Of Providence, wide- watching from the sky, While nature slumbers ; — emblem of His grace, Whose presence fills the infinite of space. Montgomery. CHAPTER XXIII THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. The afternoon of Monday was allotted to a walk upon the sands, which a neap-tide had left far and long uncovered. This circumstance gave a favourable and safe opportunity for the party to cross upon a natural cause-way of shingles to a small island, which the retreat of the waters now left accessible. After a short time given to an examination of this little spot, Charles Willoughby proposed, that they should seat themselves as con- veniently as they could, and that he might be allowed to request Miss Hamilton to favour them with a paper, which, he understood, had engaged her thoughts and pen in the morning. Louisa read her production. THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. " The Arab guide, as he conducts the traveller along the sacredly classic shores of the Red Sea, points to the spot, where tradition, corroborating 292 THE DEPTHS GONGEALED. the records of Moses, keeps up the remembrance of the miraculous passage of the Israelites. Those shores, indeed, are now most desolate and silent; and but seldom does the mariner disturb the shal- low waters, which, perhaps at the very part where ' the floods stood upright as an heap, and the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea/ scarcely wet s the knees of the pilgrim's camel. The coralline rocks and the African sands have greatly contracted the north-western gulf of the Red Sea. " I had been reading the account, M written by the meek man of God, of those remarkable trans- actions, of which he was an eye-witness, and in which he acted a conspicuous part. My imagi- nation was strongly excited by the narrative, and, taking the Sacred Volume in my hand, I directed my steps towards the shore, to ponder over the story of ages past, and to con the lessons which it taught. An arm of the sea, two or three leagues in breadth, ran far inland, and I took my medita- tive course along its beach. In magnitude, it probably corresponded with the gulf passed by the ransomed Israelites ; but in other respects it was strikingly different. Woodlands, diversified with hill and dale, skirted its opposite coast, and ex- tended to the horizon their dark green undulations, Exod. THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 293 which were distinctly reflected on the calm waters. Two rivers poured their tributary streams into the gulf, and the intervening land was richly culti- vated by the plough, and adorned with a neat, populous town, and many elegant villas. Very different was the scene presented to the Israelitish multitude, when they took up their station before Pihahiroth. 35 That was a wilderness, in whose labyrinths their merciless foe congratulated himself that they were entangled, and that he should make them an easy prey. The surrounding regions, even at that time, seem to have been marked with a peculiarly barren aspect, so that the Israelites frequently made a doleful contrast between them and the well watered and fruitful fields of Egypt. " Oh ! what a cry ascended from the fugitive myriads of Israel, when they found themselves as it were entangled in the toils of their enemy : — a cry scarcely exceeded by that, which had recently filled the whole land' of Egypt, on the death of the first-born. The distant moun- 35 Or Pi-hachipoth, t':e mouth of Chiroth, as it is rendered in the Septuagint. Dr. Shaw, the traveller, is of opinion, that Chiroth denotes the valley which extends from the valley of Etham to the Red Sea. " This valley he observes, ends at the sea in a small bay, made by the earLhern extremities of the mountains — and is called Tiah-beni-Israel, i. e. the road of the Israelites, by a tradition that is still kept up by the Arabs, of their having passed through it." Bagster's Comprehensive Bible. 294 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. tains must have echoed it back over the waves, and the nearer heights and valleys must have conveyed the sound to the Egyptians, and elicited from them a shout of anticipated triumph. Their situation reminded me of the well-known and pitiable condition and complaint of the ancient Britons, when their Roman masters, who had taught them every thing but the art of war and of self-protection, abandoned them to the invasion of new foes. The British ambassadors carried to Rome the letter of their countrymen, which was inscribed, ' The groans of the Britons.' The tenor of the epistle was suitable to this superscrip- tion. ' The barbarians (say they,) on the one hand, chase us into the sea ; the sea, on the other, throws us back upon the barbarians ; and we have only the hard choice left us, of perishing by the sword, or by the waves.' 36 " But how safe are they, who are where God would have them to be. The children of Abraham had quitted the land of their oppressors at the divine bidding, and they were now encamped on the identical spot, to which God had directed them, a spot widely out of the road which they would naturally have chosen to conduct them to the promised land. Yet, how mixed and imper- fect was their piety ! They loudly complained i6 Hume's Histcry of Ecglard. THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 295 against their generous leader, and regretted that they had left the house of bondage. They had rather live and groan under the scourge of an ignoble and oppressive slavery, than die by the sword of war. What astonishing forbearance on the part of God ! * Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will show you to-day : for the Egyptians whom ye have seen to-day, ye shall see them again no more for ever. The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.' 37 Their murmurs were now silenced, if their fears were not dissipated. They looked at the sea and paused upon its verge. They gave a glance of tacit apprehension to the Egyptian host, and it was to be the last. Yet, a few hours, and the Egyptians were to be no more. They were to ask no questions, such as curiosity or unbelief might suggest. This was to silence all. ' The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.' The Israelites might not seem more fully destined to utter ruin than their adver- saries to perfect triumph. But the former were looking through self-despair to their God ; while the latter were self-deluded and judicially har- dened. The trembling heart of the Israelite yet hoped in Jehovah. The hardened heart of the Egyptian had no confidence beyond itself and its 37 Exodus xiv. 13, 14. 296 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. false idols. A child of God, through the weakness and imperfection of his faith, and through his defective insight into the results which are wrapped up in futurity, may sometimes appear to little ad- vantage by the side of a man of this world. But the Christian's fears are connected with a state of safety. The worldling's hardihood is associated with tremendous peril. The timidity of the one, however, as well as the carnal and false security of the other, may conceal from h,im his real situa- tion. Holy fear clings to an unfailing rock, like the tenacious shell-fish. Unholy audacity treads upon a yielding wave, which may soon give way and ingulf the soul for ever. " But prayer and simple faith are not to super- sede, but rather to stimulate human effort, when the time for action arrives. For it has been fre- quently and well observed, that prayer without exertion is presumption, while exertion without prayer is atheism. We have a memorable instance of this, taught us by Jehovah himself, on the shore of the Red Sea. 'The Lord said unto Moses, Wherefore criest thou unto me ? speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward : but lift thou up thy rod, and stretch out thy hand over the sea, and divide it : and the children of Israel shall so on dry ground through the midst of the sea.' " What means that sudden movement in the THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 297 heavens ? It is the angel of God changing the place of his encampment. Till this hour he has led the march. Now he retires, and forms the rereward of the trembling host. ' The pillar of the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them : and it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel ; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to those : so that the one came not near the other all the night/ The evening shades were advancing from the further shore, when Moses, by the command of God, ' stretched out his hand over the sea, and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. And the children of Israel went into the midst of the sea upon the dry ground : and the waters were a wall unto them, on their right hand and on their left.' Thus ' the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea.' The solemnity of night added awe to the scene, the grandeur of which, exhibiting the passage of two millions of people through the divided sea, can be but feebly pictured by the imagination. They passed and safely trod the path of miracle. Their foe, instead of being struck dumb with amazement, or pros- trate in adoration of the irresistible Jehovah, infatuated to his ruin, rushed to the pursuit. The emancipated host had just reached the opposite o 2 598 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. shore, and the last band of their pursuers had iust entered the awful o-ao, when a look from Jehovah through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, threw the armies of the Egyptians into confusion. Then Moses, by divine command, stretched out the wonder-working rod ; the sea returned to his strength ; and the beams of returning day shone upon a shore strewn with the corpses of the mul- titudes of Mizraim. " Then sang Moses that song, which ever since has borne his name, and the whole throng united with him in full chorus. This grand event in their history afterwards became a favourite theme with successive Jewish bards, who celebrated it in all the pomp and richness of eastern poetry. That ode of Moses has often since been taken up by the church in her days of triumph and deliverance, and in the prophetic visions of St. John we are taught to expect, that it will hereafter be used with even more than its primitive force and pro- priety. ' And I saw another sign in heaven, great and marvellous, seven angels having the seven last plagues ; for in them is filled up the wrath of God. And I saw, as it were, a sea of glass mingled with fire : and them that had gotten the victory over the beast, and over his image, and over his mark, and over the number of his name, stand on the sea of glass, having the harps of God. And they sing the song of Moses the servant of THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 299 God, and the song of the Lamb, saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and true are thy ways, thou King of Saints. Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ? for thou only art holy : for all nations shall come and worship before thee ; for thy judgments are made manifest.' " I now turned to many of the sublime and in- structive portions of the divine word, which refer to, or commemorate the event, particularly the 74th, 77th, 78th, and 114th Psalms ; and when I reached home, T took down Bishop Hall's Contemplations, but, as much to my surprise as regret, found that he had passed over this most memorable transac- tion, in a very brief and cursory manner, saying- little more upon it than what follows. " ' He was a bold Israelite that set the first foot in the channel of the sea ; and every step that they set in that moist way was a new exercise of their faith. Pharaoh sees all this, and wonders ; yet hath not the wit or grace to think, (though the pillar tell him so much) that God made a dif- ference betwixt him and Israel. He is offended with the sea, for giving way to his enemies, and yet sees not why he may not trust it as well as they. He might well have thought, that he which gave light in Goshen, when there was darkness in Egypt, could as well distinguish in the sea ; but he cannot now either consider, or fear ; it is 300 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. his time to perish. God makes him fair way, and lets him run smoothly on till he be come to the midst of the sea ; not one wave may rise up against him, to wet so much as the hoof of his horse. Extraordinary favours to wicked men are the forerunners of their ruin. ISTow, when God sees the Egyptians too far to return, he finds time to strike them with their last terror. They know not why, but they would return, too late. Those chariots, in which th^y trusted, now fail them ; as having done service enough, to carry them into perdition. God pursues them, and they cannot flee from him. Wicked men make equal haste both to sin, and from judgment: but they shall one day find, that it is not more easy to run into sin, than impossible to run away from judgment. The sea will show them, that it regards the rod of Moses, not the sceptre of Pharoah ; and now, as glad to have got the enemies of God at such an ad- vantage, shuts her mouth upon them, and swallows them up in her waves ; and, after she hath made sport with them awhile, casts them upon her sand, for a spectacle of triumph to their adversaries. " ' What a sight was this to the Israelites, when they were now safe on the shore, to see their enemies come floating after them upon the billows, and to find among the carcases upon the sand, their- know r n oppressors, which they can now tread on with insultation ! They did not cry more " THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 301 loud before, than now they sing. Not their faith, but their sense teaches them now to magnify that God, after their deliverance, whom they hardly trusted for their deliverance.' " " Being aware of the subject of my sister's paper," said Pascal, ' I this morning made an extract from one of our Oxford Prize Poems. It was written by Matthew Rolleston, on whose lips, when he entered the sacred ministry, and was ap- pointed a University Preacher, as I have often heard from my seniors, overflowing congregations used to hang, charmed by the energy of his elo- quence, though it lay under the restraint and disadvantage of much corporeal infirmity, and by the fervour of his piety, which, when on one occasion he preached on the Standard of Primitive Christianity, appeared like the mantle of St. Stephen investing the preacher. He died in the prime of his years, in humble and simple faith, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. 'Tis past — that hour of death ! the eye of light „ On its own tow'rs ™ looks down, in glory bright : Yet ne'er on host so vast its golden beam. Waking, has shone, as now, with mighty stream Of mingled man and herd, from Goshen's land Pours frequent forth, a more than locust band. 38 Memphis. 302 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. They go ; but all is silent as the tomb — For look ! where, column'd high in massy gloom, Deep as the darkness of the coming storm, Moves slow before the host a giant-form ; And see, as all the twilight landscape fades, A pale and dubious light the mass pervades, And as the night rolls on, the wondrous frame Pours a broad glare, and brightens into flame : Tis not the beacon fire, which wakes from far The wand'ring sons of rapine and of war ; 'Tis not of night's fair lamp the silv'ry beam, Nor the quick darting meteor's angry gleam ; No ! 'tis the pillar'd cloud, " the torch of heav'n," Pledge of the present God, by mercy giv'n ; The sacred boon, by Providence supplied, By day to cover, and by night to guide. And He, the great, th' eternal Lord, whose might All being owns, who spake, and there was light, Who gave the Sun the tow'r of day to keep, And the pale Moon to watch o'er nature's sleep, He, present still, shall aid, shall safety yield, Thy lamp by night, by day thy guide and shield. Not such their trust, when, by the Red Sea flood, Trembling and faint, th' affrighted myriads stood ; When war foam'd fierce behind, and from the wave Despair, dark frowning, yell'd, " Behold thy grave!" When, spurr'd to insult rude, th' impatient crowd Chid the meek man of God, and murmur'd loud : " Was it for this, that Nile's obedient flood Roll'd, at thy word, a sea of death and blood ? For this, to life did every sand-grain spring, And famine lurk beneath the insect's wino- ? THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 303 Was it for this, the Sun forgat to rise, And midnight darkness veil'd the noonday skies ? Or when, high-borne upon the sweeping blast, Th' avenging Spirit of Destruction pass'd, And dealt, with viewless arm, that mortal blow, Which laid the blooming hopes of Egypt low ; Was it for this the frowning Seraph stay'd The fiery vengeance of his deathful blade ; Bent on the hallow'd blood his alter'd eye, Own'd mercy's pledge, and pass'd innocuous by ; And spar'd us, but to glut the savage sword, Or groan once more beneath a tyrant lord?" Peace, impious doubts ! rebellious murmurs, hence ! Mark the rais'd wand, and trust Omnipotence! — 'Tis done, obedient to the high decree Wave parts from wave, and sea rolls back from sea ; 'Till, sudden check'd as by the wintry hand Of the stern north, the solid waters stand. The pillar'd flames, while gathering darkness falls, Shed passing radiance on the crystal walls ; And now those caves, where dwelt primeval night, Drink the warm spirit of the orient light ; Swift through th' abyss the pure effulgence flies, And earth's foundations burst on human eyes. But see ! where Egypt comes ! with steed and car, And thousands panting for the spoils of war ; Bold waves her plume, and proud her banners gleam, As now they bask'd in vict'ry's golden beam ; The war-trump speaks ; maddening she spurns the shores, And through the yawning surges headlong pours. But where is Egypt now ? Where all her might," Her steeds, her cars, her thousands arm'd for fight ? 304 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. Where is the banner' cl pride that wav'd so high ? And where the trump that told of victory ? All, all are past ; the chain'd and fetter'd deep, Loos'd from its bonds, at one tremendous sweep Whelm'd all their hopes, and not a wreck is seen, To tell to future times that they had been. — And thou, infatuate Prince, of stubborn mould, Aw'd by no terrors, by no pow'r controll'd ! Hast thou too felt that arm thy soul defied ? How is thy glory fall'n ! how chang'd thy pride ! For hope had fondly deem'd thy death-cold clay Should mock corruption's worm, nor know decay ; But ne'er thy scatter'd bones shall now be hid In the dark bed of thy proud pyramid : But thou, vain boaster, and thy meanest slave, Alike must glut the monsters of the wave. " Have I not heard it suggested/' asked Edwin, " that the passage of the Red Sea may have been effected at a time when the waters of the gulph had retreated through natural, though extraor- dinary causes ? " " I am always pleased to hear and to answer the inquiries of the young on these topics," replied the Vicar, " for our great enemy is very ready to take advantage of smothered and unanswered doubts, to harass the mind with sceptical thoughts, and supposed difficulties. It is very true, that natural events have occurred, bearing a resem- blance to the division of the Red Sea, and of the river Jordan. For instance, Dr. E. D. Clarke THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 305 states, that ' a remarkable phenomenon occurs in the sea of Azof, during violent east winds : the sea retires in so singular a manner, that the people of Taganrof are able to effect a passage upon dry land to the opposite coast, a distance of twenty versts, equal to fourteen miles ; but when the wind changes, and this it does sometimes very suddenly, the waters return with such rapidity to their wonted bed, that many lives are lost. The depth here is five fathoms.' For the Israelites to have arrived and passed at such a juncture, would, indeed, have been a wonderful illustration and instance of the peculiar providence which watched over them : but the retreat of the waters would have been no miracle. As a miraculous interference of the God of nature, and the God of Israel, it is constantly referred to in the Sacred Volume. Its instantaneous occurrence at the out- stretching of the Prophet's rod, was calculated to impress the minds of the people with its directly miraculous character, and the whole narrative itself forcibly implies that it was a miracle, par- ticularly where it is stated that ' the waters were a wall unto them, on their right hand and on their left/ which could not have been the case under any merely natural and material agency. A strong wind, indeed, is said to have been employed ; but, then, let it be observed, that, according to the analogy of similar natural phenomena, it would 306 THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. have been a north wind, forcing the sea south- ward down the gulph, and leaving the upper part dry ; whereas this was an east wind, which seems miraculously to have ploughed a passage through the sea, and left the waters on either side ap- parently ' congealed.' But the humble pupil of Revelation, in his inquiries into subjects of this character, will do well to ask rather by whom, than by what means, events were brought about. — But it is time that we should return, lest the tide should intercept our retreat. " " But, dear papa," said Julia, " if you think that we may take ten minutes more, with your approbation, we may sing Dr. Watts's beautiful hymn." The Vicar assented, and the whole party sang the hymn, to the tune of the Old Hundredth Psalm. GOD'S DOMINION OVER THE SEA. God of the seas, thy thund'ring voice Makes all the roaring waves rejoice ! And one soft word of thy command Can sink them silent in the sand. If but a Moses wave thy rod, The sea divides and owns its God ; The stormy floods their Maker knew, And let his chosen armies through. THE DEPTHS CONGEALED. 307 The scaly flocks amidst the sea, To thee, their Lord, a tribute pay ; The meanest fish that swims the flood, Leaps up, and means a praise to God. The larger monsters of the deep, On thy commands attendance keep ; By thy permission sport and play, And cleave along their foaming- way. If God his voice of tempest rears, Leviathan lies still and fears ; Anon he lifts his nostrils high, And spouts the ocean to the sky. How is thy glorious pow'r ador'd, Amidst these wat'ry nations, Lord I Yet the bold men that trace the seas, Bold men, refuse their Maker's praise. What scenes of miracle they see, And never tune a song to thee ! While on the flood they safely ride, They curse the hand that smooths the tide, Anon they plunge in wat'ry graves, And some drink death among the waves : Yet the surviving crew blaspheme, Nor own the God that rescu'd them. O, for some signal of thine hand ! Shake all the seas, Lord, shake the land : Great Judge, descend, lest men deny That there's a God that rules the sky. CHAPTER XXIV. THE SEA PILGRIM. On Tuesday evening, the two families met at Mr. Willoughby's. It was cold, and they gladly indulged in the early and ever-acceptable luxury of an autumnal fire-side. While sitting in their social circle, Miss Willoughby said, " I take some little shame to myself for the scantiness of my contributions — or rather contribution, for I have brought forward only one article— to the stock of general improvement and entertainment, according to the plan of our revered friend. Nor have I now any thing original to produce. But, in looking over the album of a friend, on whom I called this morning, I read, and, by her permission, copied a little piece, which will more than compensate for my lack of service. It was in the hand-writing THE SEA PILGRIM. 309 of the venerable author. In the absence of any title from its commencement, I will style it THE SEA PILGRIM. " My dear Madam, " As I find that a vague report has reached you, of the merciful deliverance which I have ex- perienced ; I conclude, from the friendship with which you have favoured me, that you are anxious to know the particulars of the story. " You need not to be informed of my early designation to a sea-faring life, nor of my deter- mination of taking a voyage to a very distant I region. Alas, I thought little of the dangers to j which I might be exposed, or of the risk I ran ! , I had never seen the mountainous wave, nor heard \ the rending howl of the tempest. And though I , had read of the perils in which others had been , involved, I foolishly thought, that with respect to i my own voyage, the wind would be always fair, I and the ocean calm. A painted storm differs widely from a real one. May my painful experience •be a warning to others. " Not to weary you with mure previous remark, I proceed to inform you, that I took my passage on board the Sufficiency, Captain Self, a man who pretended to be well skilled in the science of navigation, and frequently became the panegyrist 310 THE SEA. PILGRIM. of his bark, which he described as a very fast sailor, and as proof against wind and weather. His crew, according to his account of them, were picked hands, who had often made the voyage in which we were engaged ; his charts were the most accurate and comprehensive ; and his masts and rigging in the finest order. " All this I have since found to be untrue, and therefore charitably seize this opportunity of cautioning; those who venture themselves on the great deep, to investigate carefully the captain with whom they trust themselves, and the ma- terials of the vessel in which they embark. The Sufficiency, as I have now discovered, was built, not of British oak, but of a soft kind of timber, hewn from the forest of Pride, remark- able for its defect, both of strength and durability. There was not, it seems, a single bolt of iron in the whole fabric ; but the planks were fastened to ribs of the same wood, and to each other by pins, cut from the same tree. And, had they not been secured from the effects of the weather by a thin covering of paint, which rendered the contour of the ship very tawdry, they would scarcely have held together till we were out of port. The Cap- tain, in the course of the voyage, gave sufficient proof of his ignorance, both of the course we were to take, and of the management of the ship. He steered at random, without a compass ; for he THE SEA PILGRIM. 311 forgot, or, through conceit, neglected to take one with him. Neither himself nor his crew had ever reached the port to which we were bound ; but had always been obliged to return thither, from whence they sailed, disappointed and confounded His ship was wholly without ballast, while the masts were disproportionally lofty, and the sails unreasonably large. The ropes, instead of being fabricated of tough hemp, were manufactured of rushes, that grow in the swamp of Moral De- cency. To all this may be added, that the vessel itself, and all her apparatus, were so old as to be quite rotten ; being the very same in which Captain Adam once attempted to make the voyage, and failed of attaining his object. The history of his disappointment I need not recall to your recollection, since you have so often read the affecting narrative, drawn up by the pen of Moses ; who has by some persons been considered as the builder of the ship, but who, as appears by his own account, had no hand in it. Indeed, it had been in use long before he was born. " From the account which I have given of my ship and its commander, you will not wonder when informed of the catastrophe which ensued. As we sailed from the port of Nature, the place of my birth, parentage, and education, I was hailed by my old companions, in a manner that showed the sanguine hopes they entertained of 312 THE SEA PILGRIM. my success, by an acquisition of the object in view : viz. the opulence of the country to which I was going. Our ensign streamed in the wind ; our sails were filled with a prosperous breeze ; and our hearts exulted in the prospect of an advan- tageous expedition. " We made, however, but little progress, before the scene awfully changed. A boisterous wind, called by the navigators of those seas, Convic- tion, arose; compared with which, St. Paul's Euroclydon was a gentle zephyr. We, moreover, got into a place, in those parts, called the straits of Tribulation, where two seas met, and the waves ran mountains high. Here we were tossed to and fro, and reeled like a drunken man, and were at our wits' end. We were carried up to heaven, and then down again to the deep, and our hearts failed because of the trouble. Our Captain lost all his false confidence, and acknow- ledged that he knew not where he was, or what to do. Our charts afforded us no direction, and the whole crew were so benumbed with the cold, that they were incapacitated to handle the sails, or to assist in the management of the ship. Neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and all hope that we should be saved was taken away from us. " Our ship was now at the mercy of the waves, and our lives in the most imminent danger. Judge, THE SEA PILGRIM. 313 my friend, if you can, (but it is impossible, unless you had been in similar circumstances,) what were my feelings, as I lay in my birth, night after night ; for nature demanded refreshment in a tone too peremptory to be resisted ; and besides, my continuance upon deck appeared useless, since I could do nothing to promote a deliverance. Judge what were my feelings, when, every moment, some part of the rigging gave way, with a crash that harrowed up my very soul ; and the rotten planks were starting from their ribs. After some time, we were obliged to throw overboard all the lading of the ship with our own hands, which consisted of a kind of merchandize called Human Merits ; and which I had laid up for the purpose of barter with the king of the country to which we were bound, and whereby I hoped to obtain an immense profit. This sacrifice of my all cost me much affliction. But to avoid it was impossible. Had I then known what I have since discovered, that my supposed goods were all marred and rotten, and absolutely worthless, I should have felt no pain in the loss of them. " A thought at length struck into the Captain's head, which afforded us .a momentary gleam of hope; but alas, it was hope unfounded. Here- collected that before he set sail, he had been recommended by a shipwright, called Mr. Legal Repentance, to take with him, in case of an 314 THE SEA PILGRIM. accident, (which, however, was considered to be very improbable,) some ropes, made in the manu- factory of Mr. Reformation, wherewith the ship, should a violent storm endanger her safety, might be undergirded and kept together. It was now therefore proposed to make use of these ropes, and the proposal was immediately carried into execution. But, alas ! these ropes were made of the same frail materials as the rigging, and, on the first reel of the ship, snapped asunder. This failing, we yet tried another experiment. We had on board a kind of pitch, or cement, celebrated for stopping leaks. This, therefore, we applied to the seams, which now copiously admitted water into the hold. But though this cement is truly valuable, when judiciously made, ours, alas ! was good for nothing ; since the principal ingredient in its composition was omitted, and another, of no use, substituted in its stead. When properly ma- nufactured, it is called Godly Sorrow, and is only sold at the warehouse of Mr. Grace. Ours was a composition, called Worldly Sorrow, vended by Mr. Fear. This scheme, therefore, proved abortive, like the former, the cement being washed off as fast as we laid it on. " Not to weary you with a recital of other vain expedients to which we had recourse, I hasten to tell you, that the storm increased in violence ; and that in a short time the Sufficiency was dashed THE SEA PILGRIM. 315 in a thousand pieces, so that no two planks held together. Captain Self, and every individual of his crew, were instantly drowned ; and I only am left, a miracle of divine mercy ! " How I escaped, you shall now hear ; and I am sure you will not hear it, without joining your friend, in an adoration of that all-gracious Being, to whom I owe my life, and all its comforts. On the destruction of the ship, I found myself in the midst of the waves, and, as you may suppose, despaired of any escape. Death, in all its terrors, stared me in the face. The darkness of the night added to the horrors of my situation. But I had not been long in this state, before the morning light dawned, and I descried near me a Rock, which was raised above the swelling flood, and promised me a place of security, if I could reach it. But here lay the difficulty ; I was so exhausted and weak, that I had no power to struggle with the waves, and when, once or twice I touched the friendly shore, and tried to grasp some prominent part of the Rock, I was washed off again. At length, however, when I found it impossible to save myself, the waves being so violent, and the ascent so steep, I was constrained to cry out for help to Him, who stilleth the raging of the sea : a friendly hand was held out to me ; I tried to lay hold of it, but was unable ; when, with a strength more than human, it laid hold of me, lifted me 316 THE SEA PILGRIM. out of the water, and lodged me on the Rock of security. " You may suppose, that I was no sooner re- covered from the state of exhaustion in which I was left, than I began to inquire after the name of my deliverer, and the place where I was, and to return him my warmest thanks. He informed me that his name was Paraclete, and that the Rock, on which I was placed, was called, Jehovah Tsuri; and that it was his constant employment to assist those, who, venturing as I had done, were frequently wrecked in those seas. You may suppose that, in transports of joy and gratitude, I kissed the Rock, and adored Him who had set me on it. After employing some time in this manner, I recollected the companions of my voyage, and began to look around me to see if any of them had escaped. But they were all sunk, like lead, in the mighty waters ; and considering the manner in which they had deceived me, I can- not say that I regret their destruction. *' I am still sore with the bruises I received, while I was the sport of the angry waves. But my gracious friend, before mentioned, has given me a cordial, called ' Gvttm Sanguinis Christi/ which he assures me will, ere long, effect my restoration to health and soundness. And, indeed, I begin already to experience their virtue. My time is here spent in a very comfortable manner, THE SEA PILGRIM. 317 being in perfect security ' from fear of evil/ and enjoying the company of my kind deliverer. His conversation makes me wise, while his smile fills my heart with joy. And he has promised that his own ship, which is called Salvation, shall soon arrive, and waft me safely to the haven where I would be. " Thus, my dear Madam, have I given you my history. If you think it may be of use to others, navigating these seas, you are welcome to com- municate it. And all I request of you, in return for my trouble in affording you this long detail, is an interest in your prayers, that my heart may be more and more filled with gratitude, till faith is changed for sight, and hope for fruition. " I am, Very truly, your's, T. T. B." Mrs. Hamilton remarked, "The subject of this allegorical piece reminds me of poor Cowper's Castaway, which, by way of contrast, and to excite our gratitude to the Saviour, that we are not left a prey, either to our own fears and un- belief, or to a disordered intellect, I will request one of our party to read." 318 THE SEA PILGRIM. Edwin immediately brought the third volume of Cowper's poems, and read THE CASTAWAY. Obscurest night involv'd the sky, Th' Atlantic billows roar'd, When such a destin'd wretch as I, Wash'd headlong- from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left. No braver chief could Albion boast, Than he with whom he went ; Nor ever ship left Albion's coast, With warmer wishes sent : He lov'd them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay ; Nor soon he felt his strength decline, Or courage die away ; But wag'd with death a lasting strife, Supported by despair of life. He shouted ; nor his friends had fail'd To check the vessel's course ; But so the furious blast prevail'd, That, pitiless, perforce, They left their outcast mate behind, And scudded still before the wind. THE SEA PILGRIM. 319 Some succour yet they could afford ; And, such as storms allow, The cask, the coop, the floated cord, Delay'd not to bestow, But he (they knew) nor ship, nor shore, Whate'er they gave, should visit more. Nor, cruel as it seem'd, could he Their haste himself condemn, Aware that flight in such a sea, Alone could rescue them ; Yet bitter felt it still to die Deserted, and his friends so nigh. He long- survives, who lives an hour In ocean, self-upheld ; And so long he, with unspent pow'r, His destiny repell'd : And ever as the minutes flew, Entreated help, or cried — ' Adieu ! ' At length, his transient respite past, His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in ev'ry blast, Could catch the sound no more : For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him : but the page Of narrative sincere. That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear : And tears by bards or heroes shed, Alike immortalize the dead. 320 THE SEA PILGRIM. I therefore purpose not, or dream , Descanting on his fate, To give the melancholy theme A more enduring date : But misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case. No voice divine the storm allay 'd, No light propitious shone ; When, snatch'd from all effectual aid. We perish'd, each alone : But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelm'd in deeper gulf than he. " I never before," observed Mr. Willoughby, " so distinctly traced the lineaments of Cowper's mental distress, drawn by his own hand, in this memorable poem. May it please divine mercy ever to uphold and preserve our intellectual fa- culties from that deplorable prostration, which physically incapacitates the mind from inferring right conclusions from right premises ; and ever to sustain our faith and hope, in all the childlike simplicity of fiducial reliance upon the promises of God, given to us in his dear Son. Let each of us watch and pray, lest he should be ' a castaway :' but at the same time, ' embrace, and ever hold fast the blessed hope/ founded upon Jehovah's assurance, ' I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' THE SEA PILGRIM. 321 " Nineteen years before he penned The Cast- away, Cowper expressed himself in similarly desponding language, in what he wrote To the Rev. John Newton, on his return from Ramsgate. That ocean you have late survey'd, Those rocks, I too have seen ; But I, afflicted and dismay'd ; You, tranquil and serene. You, from the flood-controlling steep, Saw stretch'd before your view, With conscious joy, the threat'ning deep, No longer such to you. To me, the waves, that ceaseless broke Upon the dangerous coast, Hoarsely and ominously spoke Of all my treasure lost. Your sea of troubles you have past, And found the peaceful shore ; I, tempest-toss'd, and wreck'd at last, Come home to port no more." p2 CHAPTER XXV. THE SANDS. . The Hamiltons had arranged with their friends, to give up the whole of Thursday morning to a ramble along the sands. As soon, therefore, as the sea had sufficiently ebbed, and the sun had dried the shore, they set out on their walk, agree- ing to proceed as far as their strength and the tide and coast would allow, and then to be met by two carriages and return by the inland road. They were at no loss for interesting and profitable topics of conversation, environed as they were with objects of which they were enthusiastically fond, and which were connected in their minds, with all that is gratifying to a refined, intellectual taste, and all that is impressive to a heart under the controlling influence of divine principles. After having walked a distance sufficiently fatiguing to render rest welcome, and having THE SANDS. 323 arrived at a point, where a bold, rocky head-land, from which the sea never wholly retired, obstructed their further progress, they sat down in the shade of a projecting cliff, which the sun had recently left, and partook of a light refreshment. This being over, Edwin was requested to read some thoughts, which he had written, on THE SANDS. " The common sand which clothes the shores of the ocean, and invests immense regions of the Asiatic and European continents, is considered by mineralogists, to be 'a granulated kind of quartz; or consists of rounded grains of small size, which have a vitreous or glassy surface.' ' In the torrid regions of Africa and Asia, there are immense tracts of desert covered only with sand, so dry and light as to be moveable before the wind, and to be formed into vast hills and boundless plains. These are incessantly changing their place, and frequently overwhelm and destroy the travellers whose necessities require them to enter these dreary realms.' Addison has borrowed a striking image from this latter fact. Lo, where our wild Numidian wastes extend, Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend, 324 THE SANDS. Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play, Tear up the sands, and sweep whole realms away The helpless traveller, with wild surprise, Sees the dry desert all around him rise, And smother'd in the dusty whirlwind dies. } " These immeasurable regions of sterility seem to be widely extending themselves, especially in an easterly direction. They have already spread over provinces, which were the very granaries of ancient times ; and have buried beneath their gradually advancing and accumulating masses, temples, and cities, which once were the admira- tion of the world. The African sandy wastes, and only their skirts, are known but to the wandering Arab, the lawless Moor, the bleeding captive, and the adventurous traveller. There Regions immense, unsearchable, unknown, Bask in the splendour of the solar zone. " There, a lake impregnated with soda, and sur- rounded by a few stunted date trees or bushes, and a scanty pasturage of dingy green grass, forms a kind of paradisiacal contrast with the red, and glaring, and scorching sands of numberless leagues round. Is it not a reflection full of asto- nishment, that the Zaara itself is no more than an unconnected accumulation of particles resem- bling those which are now beneath our feet ! The THE SANDS. 325 drops of the watery waste before us, have a subtile and intimate bond of union ; the sands of the desert have none. Those terrible wilds, where nature is forbidding in her every form, present too faithful a picture of the moral waste which is occu- pied by the fifty or more millions of Africa. There, man, Fierce as his clime, uncultur'd as his plains, lives and dies the victim of every passion which can debase, and of every calamity which can oppress mankind. O Canaan, son of Ham, what hast thou done ? what a curse hast thou brought down upon thy race ! " Can Omnipotence, when mercy repeals the curse, remove the barrenness of those scenes? The question needs not to be asked. Omnipotence can and may effect the miraculous renovation, during the millennial reign of Messiah. But we are certain that Almighty grace will effect a far greater change than this in the spiritual world. Of that world, under the sceptre of Emmanuel, not a single spotshall be sterile. When the servants of God shall have accomplished his gracious will, and disseminated the precious seed of the divine word throughout the field of the world, ' The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them ; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as w 326 THE SANDS. the rose. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing : the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon ; they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God/ " Sand is not without its important uses in the arts which embellish human life, and add to its comforts. ' When mixed in due proportion with lime, it forms that hard and valuable cement called mortar. Melted with soda and potash, it is formed into glass; white sand being used for the finer kinds, and coarse and more impure sand for bottle glass.' But the most valuable end, answered by this simple, but curious substance, is that which it serves in its natural position on the shores of the ocean. There, it not only affords the foot of the contemplator of nature a smooth and pleasant surface, and facilitates the labour of the mariner in hauling his bark ashore, or in launching it into the deep ; but it also forms a peculiar kind of breakwater, protecting the shore from the violence and inroads of the ocean. There, since the creation, or at least since the universal deluge, it has reposed upon its bed, giving way but little to the force of the waters, and even abating somewhat of that force, by thus partially yielding to the waves. It is thus an effectual, though a shifting barrier to the encroachments of the sea." ' THE SANDS. 327 The Vicar here interrupted the young Essayist, by kindly asking him permission to interpose a remark or two, suggested to his mind, by this part of Edwin's paper. " The Hebrew word," said he, " for patient expectation, or abiding hope, and that for the sand of the sea are derived from the same root, to remain, abide, stay, wait, expect :^ and, accordingly, the sand of the sea affords an apt and beautiful illustration of the believer's hope and expectant state of mind. That sand, reposing on its rocky bed, and remaining there by its own weight, instead of being removed from its place by the rolling tides, pressed still closer to its sup- port ; and, though superficially disturbed by the waters when agitated, yet, speedily restored to its smooth level, happily represents the patience of hope resting upon the rock of ages ; adhering there the more strongly for the waves and tempests of affliction which pass over it; and, though occa- sionally disturbed and ruffled, yet retaining its position, and soon resuming its calm and placid character. Contemplate Jeremiah sitting alone and sad, amidst the ruins of his city, and the deso- lations of his country. What is the state of his mind ? It is that of the sand upon the sea-shore. J The Lord is my portion, saith my soul ; there- fore will I hope in him.' " 39 See Parkhurst's Hebrew Lexicon. 7J"p 328 THE SANDS. Edwin now resumed his paper, and read the remainder. " Things which defy the powers of human calculation, are, in the Book of God, compared with the sand. David, in his sublime Ode on the Divine Omniscience, the 139th Psalm, has thus forcibly depicted the goodness of God towards all and each of his redeemed people. ' How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O God ! how great is the sum of them ! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand.' The Christian may say : ' My wants are numerous. They are innumerable. Even those which may possibly come within the reach of my own cognizance, are astonishingly great, and they multiply with every advance and every change of my being. At every new circumstance of my existence, my necessities and comforts vary ; my relative situation changes ; and I am exposed to fresh and unseen dangers. For not one of all these can I myself provide : how much less for those more numerous contin- gencies, which lie much beyond the province of human reason and human speculation. Should I for one hour take upon myself the care of these matters, it would be a burden far too heavy for me to bear, and would crush me'with its own weight. At the bare and indefinite contemplation, in which I am able and apt to indulge, I am forced to exclaim, • THE SANDS. 329 ' O Lord I am oppressed : undertake for me ! ' But how perfectly relieving is the view of the divine om- niscience and providence sketched in that Psalm ! It leaves me nothing to fear, and even nothing to de- sire beyond the being placed in His hand, whose care of me is as minute as my necessities. How pre- cious then should be the name of my Saviour, through whom alone it is, that these ' precious thoughts towards me ' have entered and abide in the mind of God ! ' " When the spirit of prophecy designed to im- press the mind of Abraham with the future greatness of the people which were to descend from him, the angel of God called to him out of heaven, and summoned his attention to the glit- tering host of the sky, and to the countless grains that cover the shores of the ocean. ' In multiply- ing, I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, as the sand which is upon the sea-shore/ If we look back on the accomplishment of this prediction, in the amazing increase of the Jewish nation in its highest prosperity ; and in the en- largement of the church of God by the admission of Gentile converts to Christianity ; and if we anticipate the results of the millennial period, we shall readily acknowledge, that no image could more forcibly express the mind of the Spirit, than that which was adopted in the revelation made to the Father of the faithful. 330 THE SANDS. te We find similar language used to convey to us an idea of the extent and multiplicity of Solo- mon's mental acquirements. ' God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and largeness of heart, even as the sand that is on the sea-shore.' If so much might be said of this great man's intellectual accomplishments, what may we not anticipate for ourselves, when, through abounding mercy, we shall have reached the per- fection of our ransomed nature, and shall be completely renewed after the image of God, in knowledge as well as in true holiness ! When, also, Job wished to impress the minds of his friends with a more adequate sense of his sorrows, he resorted to the same field of imagery. ' Oh that my grief were thoroughly weighed, and my cala- mity laid in the balances together ! For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea.' Nor will the humble soul, conscious of its own guilt, deem it an hyperbole of language to confess, ' My sins have been countless as the sands of the sea : — countless to man, but fully and accurately known to God. Oh how great is that love, which has caused mercies and pardons to be multiplied to the full extent of my transgressions ! Eternity must give its duration to my praise for mercy, which it will require an eternity to know/ " And can we forget the instructive use, which the great Teacher of his own gospel made of THE SANDS. 331 another property of the sand, its shifting and slippery quality, in the parabolic application of his sermon on the mount? Who has not felt the touching beauty and solemnity of the contrast, which his unerring hand has there drawn ? Let it wind up these imperfect and desultory remarks, and may it leave a salutary impression on all our hearts ! ' Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock : and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell not : for it was founded upon a rock. And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand : and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house ; and it fell : and great was the fall of it.' " " Few devout visitors of the coast," observed the Vicar, " can forget the Rev. J. Newton's simple ' Thought on the sea-shore/ But by way of refreshing our memory, I will request Julia to repeat the little piece." "Most readily, Papa;" said Julia, "it was recalled to my mind the first morning after our arrival at S . Many have written sacred poetry with more of the elegance of composition, 332 THE SANDS. and the fire of genius ; but few have written so devoutly as the venerable Newton." A THOUGHT ON THE SEA-SHORE. In ev'ry object here, I see Something-, O Lord, that leads to thee ; Firm as the rocks thy promise stands, Thy mercies countless as the sands, Thy love a sea immensely wide, Thy grace an ever-flowing- tide. In ev'ry object here, I see Something-, my heart, that points at thee; Hard as the rocks that bound the strand, Unfruitful as the barren sand, Deep and deceitful as the ocean, And, like the tides, in constant motion. The party now agreed to separate till the car- riages should arrive. They did so, and rambled in different directions and groups, as their fancy led them. At last, when the signal was given for their return, Theophilus was missing, and after some time spent in searching for him, it was dis- covered that he had incautiously advanced too far along the shore, and that the tide had cut off his retreat. He had, however, clambered up an insulated rock, the top of which was never covered by the water, and it was agreed to leave him there to wait the ebb of the tide, and that Edwin should THE SANDS. 333 meet him on his return. This was accordingly done, and the two young friends came home in the evening. Theophilus in part atoned for the temporary uneasiness he had occasioned, by pro- ducing a copy of lines which he had written while upon the rock. THE ROCK. Though dear the social group, — the flow of soul Commingling freely with its kindred mind, — Yet who, at times, but loves the lonely hour In dewy meadow by the silver stream, Or 'mid the forest's shade and echoing groves, Or on the heathy mountain-top in storms, Or by the murm'ring wave on ocean's shore? 'Tis well to doff the links that man to man Enchain : — to realize alone the bond Which heav'n has fasten'd round the Christian's soul. Ah ! is that tie my own ? Fit hour to see ! For distant now are all, on whom I hang- Dependent by the ties of kin or love. God of the boundless heav'ns and pathless deep, In thee I live, and move, and have my all ! But sin hath sever'd 'tween my soul and thee ; Thy wrath may frown on him thy care sustains. I own my meed to be a thousand deaths, And twice ten thousand more — a deathless death ! Yet, Lord ! I hate my sin : I love thy name, Prepared to kiss thy rod, yet plead for life. For has not Jesus died ? On Calv'ry's rock, — Peopled indeed with guilty Zion's throngs — He hung in blood, forsaken of his God, 334 THE SANDS. His Father — there alone sustain'd the load, That else had crush'd a world — alone he died. Then was the chasm fill'd, the link repair'd : Man touch'd the throne of God, and liv'd again. Lord, I believe: help my unbelief! Feeble and young, surrounded by the waves — The boist'rous waves of this tumultuous world, And buffeted by storms, my faith retains Its hold adhesive to my rock — to Thee, As clings the limpet to the wave-worn cliff. Ah ! can it fail me in the trying hour : — The rock, to which I cleave, or faith, that holds My trembling spirit to its only hope ? No ; 'tis the rock of ages, round whose brow The storms of centuries successless beat : — Around whose solid base the flood of years Rolls harmless : — no ; that faith, or strong, or weak, Is not my feeble hold on Thee, my rock, But thine on me — the grasping of thy hand, Which ne'er will let me go. All praise be thin, ! As here, uplifted o'er the swelling deep, Cut off from human converse, all alone, I wait the ev'ning hour, and promis'd friend : E'en so, ere long, shall I survey alone Death's intervening flood 'tween me and heav'n, Wait its slow ebb, and, at life's e\ T 'ning hour, Hail my best Friend's approach, and hasten home. Blest moment, come apace ! Joy, beyond all That ever fill'd that all-including word, — What joy, to find me in a Father's arms, A Friend's embrace, a Saviour's peaceful breast, While thronging round, with smiles and choral songs, Brothers and sisters hail me to the skies." CHAPTER XXVI BATHING. A considerable quantity of rain fell on the following day, and the Hamiltons did not see their friends till the evening, when they called and spent with them a couple of hours. The day, however, had not passed slowly, or hung heavily upon their hands. It was no cause of gloom and discontent to either of the two families, to be thrown upon their own resources for employ- ment or entertainment. The love " which seeketh not her own/' eminently prevailed in the domestic circle, to the banishment of strife, and of those selfish passions that too often embitter the hours which the members of a family are obliged to spend exclusively with each other : while in their separate pursuits, they individually prized the ad- vantages of retirement, and fully entered into the admonitory import of Solomon's memorable saying : " Through desire, a man, having sepa- rated himself, seeketh and intermeddleth with all wisdom." 336 BATHING. In the course of the evening, Mrs. Hamilton said, " I have hitherto contributed little to our plan of mutual information and mental recreation. But I am not disposed to take any blame to myself for the deficiency of my contributions, because from the first I deprecated your expecting much from my pen. I have now, however, thrown together a few plain thoughts on a common topic, and will, with your permission, submit them to your notice. They are reflections on BATHING. " One of the chief ends for which visitors resort to the sea-side, is to bathe in the salt wave, and to strengthen or renew their bodily health by its invigorating properties. What a magnificent instance have we before us, of the benevolence and goodness of the God of nature, in the salubrious qualities which he has infused into the sea ! — impregnating every drop of the ocean with a saline particle, which, amongst the numerous beneficial ends it was to answer, was destined to be an instrument of good to man, suffering in the flesh, under the penal curse of God's violated law. ' Let the medicinal powers and salutary virtues, with which the Almighty has endued the waters of the sea, be always had in remembrance by those who have happily experienced them : let praise and BATHING. 337 glory be rendered to the Great Physician, who hath made the ocean a magnificent mineral bath, in which, as formerly in the pool of Bethesda, the weak become strong, and the sick whole. And when we behold the mighty works thus wrought for the bodies of men, let us reflect upon that sovereign mercy, which in like manner strengthens the infirmities, and heals the diseases of our minds ; and let us be equally diligent in using the means appointed to restore them to vigour and purity, that so, thus doubly benefited and blessed, we may express the gratitude of our hearts in those divine words of David — ' Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits ; who forgiveth all thy sin, and healeth all thine infirmities ; who saveth thy life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies ; who satis- fieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.' " But the whole of this mighty deep — this ' magnificent mineral bath,' affords only an im- perfect emblem of that divine mercy, which, as ' a sea immensely wide/ has neither bottom nor shore. This ocean, vast as it appears, is but a drop to ' the fountain opened for sin, and for un- cleanness.' The cleansing property of the salt water is but imperfectly detersive, whereas ' the Q 338 BATHING. blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin/ The me- dicinal qualities of the briny deep are numerous, and greatly efficacious. For several complaints, if taken in their early stages, sea air and sea water prove an effectual cure, under the blessing of his hand, whose prerogative it is to say, ' I am the Lord that healeth thee.' Have we ourselves derived benefit from our visit to the coast, and our uses of the Bethesda, which waits for no angel to agitate its waters, and render them salubrious ? Let us own the divine presence, and be thankful for the blessing ; and let us not be guilty of the atheistic impiety of confining our acknowledgments to the operation of secondary causes. " Yet, after all, how loudly do the walls of the temples of God, which adorn our coast, — walls covered with memorials of the departed dead, who left their ashes amongst strangers, — proclaim the incompetency of the salubrious wave, to meet the case of every one who plunges into it with the riope of deriving from it a healing and renovating virtue. The diseases are not few, to which ira- rnersion in the sea proves a fatal stimulant. Such is its effect in all inflammatory disorders, and it fails of administering lasting relief in many others, when they have gained an ascendancy in the constitution. But where is the case of spiritual disease, which may not find a cure by an appli- cation, in faith, to the ocean of our Redeemer's BATHING. 339 merits and love ? ' Here, in this Divine ocean, souls find all their relief; his merits are no more confined, no more locked up, and we no more restrained from the use of them, than the ocean itself. Here would I enter myself a patient ; here may I bathe daily, by my renewed application, by a living faith : I would be drawn by the display of those excellent properties which recommend every medicine — an exact suitableness to my case, an abundant sufficiency to answer all my wants, and prescribed by him who is infinitely wise, and the greatest friend of the poor patient. I consider the volume of Revelation, as the dis- pensatory of this Physician, not only describing the nature of the panacea, but the method of application. Here I am directed at one time to drink, and another time to bathe ; and all, that I may be cleansed from the filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and, which is the health of the soul, that I may attain perfection of holiness in the fear of God. O blessed Redeemer ! there is no malady which thou canst not relieve. Let my spiritual distempers be never so various, and every one never so malignant, inveterate, or obstinate; though my whole soul be emaciated, weakened, or corrupted ; though from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head there be no soundness ; though the schools of philosophy, and all human aids, are physicians of no value, thy blood can cleanse from 340 BATHING. every iniquity; thy Spirit can give life, though dead ; can invigorate me when torpid ; can raise me when faint and bowed down ; yea, can give that strength and alacrity, whereby I shall be enabled to ' run without weariness/ and work with diligence and activity.' " The salubrious properties of the sea can benefit those only whose habitations are near its shore, or whose circumstances allow them to visit it. Multitudes live and die without ever having an opportunity, however greatly they may desire it, and however fair may be the prospect of their being advantaged thereby. It is not thus with the grace of salvation, through our Lord Jesus Christ. All who are near enough to hear the report of its efficacy, and are willing to make trial of its healing power, are enabled to avail them- selves of the inestimable boon. The poor as well as the rich, the unlearned as well as the wise, the old as well as the young, are welcome to this Bethesda ; and all that resort to it are as fully re- stored as Naaman the leper was, after dipping himself seven times in Jordan. Free as the waters that encircle our lands, divine mercy is offered without money and without price, to all : — ' who- soever will, let him come ! ' " How often does the Christian, who himself has experienced the restorative powers of divine mercy, long to speak of his Saviour to others, BATHING. 341 when he sees the numerous invalids that throng to the various watering-places of his native land. He beholds many, courting pleasures which they have lost the capacity to enjoy, and, while they exert the few last efforts of their failing strength to visit scenes of gaiety, and to cultivate that friendship of the world which is enmity with God, keep far aloof from every scene, and from all society, which might be helpful to their souls. Even when the eye glistens with the brilliancy which disease imparts, and the cheek is painted by the hand of death, and fanned by the breeze which is soon to bend the flower on its grave, with what miserable fondness does man cling to life, and its vain, transitory enjoyments ! The Christian sighs while he views those barriers, which the customs of life may throw up between him and the objects of his compassion, for fain would he address them in strains like these. ' Brother ! Sister ! Friend I I have a heart too readily disposed to sympathize with thy sorrows, to censure thy solicitude, and that of thy friends, to use the means of restoring health, which a kind providence has placed within thy reach. If it be consistent with the divine will, and with thy best interests, may it please God to own and bless those means to thy recovery. But shall all thy care — all thy time be expended upon the health of a frame, which can last but for a time ? Is thy im- 342 BATHING. mortal and most precious soul— thy immaterial spirit, which has eternity before it, to attract none of thy anxieties, or to receive at best but a secondary and languid attention ? Can it escape thee, that thy resort to these salubrious scenes may not be attended with the desired advantage ? Hast thou forgotten how many, and some perhaps within thine own circle, have just bowed to taste or touch the wave, and died ? Even should it be the good pleasure of the Lord and giver of life to bless the bracing air and healing waters to thy recovery of health, wilt thou return to life, as it were from the borders of the grave, only to add another to the multitude, who live to forget God, and who cause his ministers to say, as Jeremiah did of old, • O Lord, are not thine eyes upon the truth ? thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved ; thou hast consumed them, but they have refused to receive correction : they have made their faces harder than a rock ; they have refused to return.' ? O that the voice of a stranger may be heard by thee at a season, when surely it behoves thee to lay aside the habit of thy nature, which is so prone to be serious about trifling things, and trifling about serious things. Look around thee, and read the many touching lessons that are reflected from the volume of Revelation upon the volume of nature. Look at the froth upon yonder white-crested waves : is it lighter BATHING. 343 than those pleasures, which have hitherto made up thy cup of earthly bliss ? Glance at those sands : is the foundation of thy hope for eternity built upon surer ground ? Contemplate that vessel, spreading all her canvas to the favouring gale, skilfully shunning every rock and every shallow, and making for the desired haven. Such is the consistent Christian. May I say, such art thou ? Thou hast bathed again and again in the briny wave, constrained by painfulness and lassi- tude to seek therein for renovated vigour, and eagerly desiring a cure. Thy soul's maladies are more numerous, more inveterate, and more dan- gerous than those of thy body. Let me towards thee act the Prophet's part toward Naaman, arid point thee to where thou mayest be cleansed and healed. Suffer not pride, resembling that which had nearly proved fatal to the Syrian nobleman, to withhold thee from an experiment, simple, yet efficacious and infallible. I direct thy attention to the mercy of God in Christ. Thereby alone, to adopt the sentiment of our communion service, thou canst obtain remission of thy sins, and be made a partaker of the kingdom of heaven. When thou lookest at yonder deep, and sighest after lost health and happiness, and desirest its return, while the hollow murmur of that deep seems to answer, ' It is not in me ! ' — then turn thine eye to the Saviour, and thou shalt receive 344 BATHING. from him no such dismaying reply, but rather an answer of peace. His language, to all the perishing sons and daughters of Adam, is, ' Look unto me, and be ye saved !' There may be hours when, seated on the beach, or at thine opened casement, thou courtest the soothing sea-breeze, and art refreshed by its cool and invigorating breath ; but yet thou art painfully conscious of thy need of something more than this. Regard that exhi- larating breeze as emblematical of the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit. He is the Paraclete — the blessed Comforter of the children of God, and his grace is sufficient for thee, to revive thy soul when faint, to refresh it when weary, to quicken it when cleaving to the dust, to cool its feverish passions, and to stimulate its appetite for the rich viands of the gospel feast. Seest thou that rock, beaten by the wave below and by the storm above, yet immoveable and imperishable ? Contemplate it as shadowing forth the unchange- ableness of thy Saviour, who is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Are thy sorrows like the deep and rapid rise of the tide, increasing every moment ? Be not alarmed ; if thou art interested in Christ, by faith in his promises, thy afflictions shall only do for thee, what the full tide does for the vessel on its surface, bear thee up and bear thee on to thy port — thy everlasting home. Listen, then, afflicted stranger, to the voice of an unknown BATHING. 345 friend, and be admonished, instructed, and com- forted/" " When I had written this paper," added Mrs. Hamilton, " a few other thoughts, bearing some analogy to these, assumed a metrical form, and I committed them to writing. Oh ! bear me to the briny wave : Oh ! fan me with the ocean breeze : Oh ! try this fading form to save : — To give this frame of anguish ease ! Thousands beneath that healing tide, Acquire the pearl of health again : Thousands that balmy air have tried, And been releas'd from all their pain. Why should I languish here and die, While healing virtues there abound '( Oh ! bear me to the waters nigh, Oh ! place me where relief is found ! Ah ! thou may'st bathe in yonder wave : Ah ! thou may'st breathe that balmy air ; Yet find, hard by, an early grave, As thousands who have perish'd there ! But stretch thine eager view beyond : Lo, mercy flows in ampler tides ! And never shall the soul despond, That in its saving power confides. «2 346 BATHING. Why perish with an ocean nigh, Where millions have salvation found ? Why, sullen, lay thee down to die, Where health, and life, and joy abound ? Oh ! haste thee — haste thee to that deep, That has no bottom — has no shore : And when in death thine ashes sleep, Thy soul shall live to die no more." CHAPTER XXVII THE LATTER DAY. Before the Hamiltons and Willoughbys sepa- rated, on Friday evening, an agreement was entered into, that as many of the party as might have it conveniently in their power, should on Saturday prepare a short piece, in prose or verse, upon some passage of Holy Scripture, declarative of the future prospects of the church of Christ, and illustrated by imagery borrowed from the world of waters. The whole were to be read in the Vicar's drawing-room, on the ensuing Sunday evening, preparatory to the closing family service. The proposal of this plan originated with Mr. Willoughby, and it had been suggested to his mind by the circumstance, that two sermons were to be preached in the Parish Church on Sunday, in aid of the Church Missionary Society. The scheme was taken up with much alacrity, as it was well adapted to prepare the mind for listening 348 THE LATTER DAY. to the addresses which were expected to be de- livered from the pulpit. On their way to the house of God, on the Sabbath morning, the Vicar said : " In all the works of God there is a complexity, as well as a simplicity, both in their operations and results, which is well deserving of our admiration and praise. It is not one simple process alone, which accomplishes some particular end, but the union of many simple operations : nor does one solitary effect result from those operations, but many ; and these, though generally related to each other, and having certain common characteristics, yet distinct and various. Of this we have admirable instances, in the operations and results of our great Societies for the diffusion of divine truth through the earth. I specify the Church Missionary Society. Keep out of view, if you can, for a time, its grand scope — the evangelization of the heathen world, and then contemplate its wonderful and extensive cor- relative benefits. It has thrown into prominent notice the moral and spiritual condition and claims of our own colonies, and been mainly instrumental in procuring for our foreign possessions, those im- portant ecclesiastical establishments which they now enjoy. It bears with weighty and salutary effect upon several foreign churches, which for ages have been in a declining state, and 'bids fair to prove itself to them a bulwark, to save them THE LATTER DAY. 349 from impending and total ruin. I will not dwell upon the advantages which men of science and enterprise derive from the travels, researches, and journals of our Missionaries ; nor will I now stay to expatiate upon the aid afforded by the Institu- tion, to the cause of Negro Emancipation. Other, and, without depreciating those I have just men- tioned, inestimably superior benefits, have accrued to our own land from the proceedings of the Society. They have had a large share in reviving the partially dormant energies of the old Societies, which have for a century and a quarter existed in the Church of England : have encouraged and even promoted the successful operations of similar institutions, supported by the several classes of our dissenting brethren : and have greatly facili- tated the successful labours of that Society, which I deem the grandest and most blessed association of human effort for the first interests of mankind, that has ever adorned our fallen world — I scarcely need to name the British and Foreign Bible Society. But let me add to these things, that which crowns the whole. The home means, taken to raise, support, and carry on our Missions, have been the channels of divine blessing to our Na- tional Church. The powerful reaction of those means, and their immediate recompense, have been conspicuously developed in promoting the present remarkable revival of sound and fervent religion, 350 THE LATTER DAY. both amongst the Clergy and Laity of Great Britain. Great have been the happy results of our Missionaries' labours, and greater still are those in prospect on foreign shores ; but if none of these had hitherto encouraged our faith and hope, and rewarded our efforts, these collateral and domestic benefits have amply repaid our expendi- ture of wealth and life. Is not this the Divine Spirit's seal upon the heart of Britain, testifying of the divine favour and approbation, and assuring of ultimate and abundant success ? May we to- day have the evidence of experience to the cor- rectness of these remarks/' In the evening the two families met as had been proposed, and the following were the pro- ductions of their several pens. The Vicar's was A COMMENT ON HAB. ii. 14. The earth shall te filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. " This sublime and comprehensive prediction occurs both amidst the threatenings of Jehovah against the adversaries of his church, and amidst his promises of the future glory of that church. Of what avail are all the schemes of worldly poli- ticians, and the cruel persecutions of those who thirst for the blood of the children of God ? The THE LATTER DAY. 351 Prophet exultingly asks, f Behold, is it not of the Lord of Hosts that the people shall labour in the very fire, and the people shall weary themselves for very vanity ? For (notwithstanding all diffi- culties and opposition) the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea/ Isaiah had previously foretold the same grand consummation, in the days of the ' Root of Jesse.' The glory of the Lord appears in the face of Jesus Christ — in his person, work, and offices. The knowledge of this glory is contained in the Holy Scriptures, and waits only for the great outpouring of the Holy Spirit to diffuse itself in a flood of light through the whole world. The bed of the ocean contains cavities as deep, and eminences as lofty, as any that are found on the dry land. But all are covered with the waters. Thus shall it be in the final dispensation of God. The vallies, the plains, and the moun- tains of the moral world shall be covered with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. The poor savage of Australia, who now occupies the lowest grade in the moral scale : the dense and level millions of the most populous heathen regions : the more elevated and cultivated portions of hu- manity : — all regions, wherever man is found, and in whatever state, shall be blessed with this pro- mised visitation of heavenly light and mercy. This flood of knowledge too, unlike the shallow 352 THE LATTER DAY. streams which now just irrigate some small por- tions of the earth, shall be deep as well as universal. It shall be a knowledge confirmed by personal experience, profound, extensive, and abiding. ' I, the Lord, will hasten it in his time.' A full, calm, transparent body of waters, like the ocean, resting in tranquil grandeur in its vast channel, and re- flecting the bright image of the smiling firmament, is a grand spectacle. But what is the most mag- nificent display of material grandeur, in comparison with the scene opened to the believer's eye, through the vista of prophecy ? A world peopled with an unprecedented population ; at peace with God, through the propitiating blood of his dear Son, and at perfect peace within itself; pure as the stainless water in its knowledge, spirit, and morals ; reposing under the unclouded light of heaven, enjoying the divine favour, and reflecting the divine perfections ; — this will be a spectacle for all worlds — a spectacle on which Jehovah himself will look down with full complacency. He will rest in his love." Mrs. Hamilton read THOUGHTS ON PSALM lxxii. 8. He shall have dominion also from sea to sea. " Unquestionably, ■ a greater than Solomon is THE LATTER DAY. 353 here.' Great, comparatively, as was the glory of Solomon's kingdom and reign, it was but the shadowy type of the glory of David's Son and David's Lord, and of his everlasting kingdom. Solomon, according to the prediction of his father, swayed his sceptre from the Mediterranean ' Sea' to the flood of the Euphrates, sometimes called a ' sea : ' and perhaps his dominion even bordered on the Persian Gulf. But the church has ever been accustomed to interpret this prophetic Psalm of King Messiah. " My soul, rouse thyself from thy native selfish- ness — a selfishness, which sometimes taints thy enjoyment of personal, spiritual mercies. Stand upon the nearest shore, and rejoice in the full and widest sense of these words, ' He,' thy Prince, and King, and Saviour, ' shall have dominion from sea to sea.' From the sea which now laves the desolate shores of Sion to the Atlantic, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific, — over every region, whose edge the ocean touches, my Re- deemer is to reign. His dominion shall be one, on which the sun of the material, and the sun of the spiritual world shall never set ; which the Prince of darkness shall no longer benight and circumscribe ; and which shall exhibit in reality, all that Prophets and Poets have pictured respect- ing the Millennium. " It was on the terrace of a ' house by the sea- 354 THE LATTER DAY. side,' 40 that the Apostle Peter beheld the celebrated vision, which opened the dominion of Messiah, from the narrow limits of the typical Solomon's kingdom, to the empire of the earth. Let me, while residing in a somewhat similar situation, and thankfully hearing the Ministers of God e preaching peace by Jesus Christ,' exult in the confident assurance, then communicated to the mind of St. Peter, that * He is Lord of all,' and that the day is probably not far distant, when the throne of Christ shall be reflected by every wave, and the standard of his cross be planted on every shore. " Let me, then, who am not likely to live to see that day, while I constantly pray for its approach, seek to bring every thought — every imagination of my soul into willing subjection to my Kingly Saviour. O Lord ! is the whole earth to be filled with thy glory, and shall not my heart ? Shall all men be blessed in thee, and shall not I be blessed in thee ? Shall the kings of the isles bring thee presents, and all kings fall down before thee, and all na- tions serve thee, and shalt thou not have do- minion over my soul ? O send down thy Spirit of grace ! Let this be the day of thy power ! Let me be willing to have thee fully reign over me i » Acts x. 6. the latter day. 355 Mr. Willoughby had written the following verses, on LET THE SEA ROAR, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF. Psalm xcvi. 11. Hfi cometh ! Who ? My Lord ! my God ! 'Tis Hfc, who erst on Calv'ry trod, With bending form and bleeding brow ; But glory mantles round him now : He comes to reign ! He comes to save His ransom'd from the fiery wave ! He cometh ! Let the ocean roar Its loud acclaim on ev'ry shore ; Let the full tide roll on the sound, And echo fill the earth around ; He cometh, seated on his throne Let all the world their Sov'reign own. He cometh ! Let the rocks and caves, The tropic and the polar waves, The eastern flood, the western main, Announce Messiah's golden reign : He cometh ! Let the heav'ns rejoice, And gladden'd earth lift up her voice. He cometh ! Lo, his throne is rais'd ! His name from sea to sea is prais'd : His banner, waving o'er the tide, Bids the proud-crested waves subside : He cometh ! Ocean's ample breast Is sooth'd to everlasting rest. 356 THE LATTER DAY. Louisa Hamilton read, A REFLECTION ON REV. six. 6. And I heard, as it were, the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia ! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. " Perhaps * creation does not afford a fourth ' similitude, equal to the three here employed to describe the songs of the heavenly choir. Of these three, the second does not yield to the others in sublimity. Waters — many waters, are, as it were, gifted with the power of utterance. They have a ' voice/ We have heard it, and listened thereto with solemnity. It has brought to our remem- brance St. John's vision in Patmos. We have seemed, with him, to hear the echo of the heavenly anthem, rolling round, like the voice of many waters when resounding along the rocky shores. Alleluiah ! Praise ye the Lord ! This will be the universal song from men and angels, when the Lord shall take to himself his great power, and reign unri- valled over a ransomed and renewed world. Yea, the very waters of the deep will seem to repeat the same glad sound. Every wave, as it rolls to the shore of the renovated earth, will appear to the devout soul to cry, Alleluiah ! It may now sanc- tify our walks along the wave-beaten strand, and our wakeful hours at night, if we mingle our own voice with that of the mighty and many waters ; THE LATTER DAY. 357 and, remembering the past wonders of redeeming love and power, and anticipating its future works, exclaim — Alleluiah ! For the Lord God omnipo- tent reigneth." Miss Willoughby, who took a lively interest in the cause of the degraded, and yet noble, the long out-cast, but not off-cast people of the Jews, brought forward REMARKS ON ISAIAH xi. 11. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the Lord shall set his hand again the second time to recover the remnant of his people, which shall be left, from Assyria, and from Egypt, and from Pathros, and from Cush, and from Elam, and from Shinar, and from Hamath, and from the islands of the sea. " Jehovah has once, and only once, brought back his people from their dispersions. He has under- taken and promised to recover them ' a second time/ A remnant of the Jews has been most wonderfully preserved through a period of disper- sion much longer than that through which they subsisted together as a nation. This remnant now lies scattered over the kingdoms of every continent, and the islands of every sea. But it shall be recovered. Are then the efforts of Chris- tians to be ridiculed, as either enthusiastic or presumptuous ; and is disappointment to be ex- pected from every scheme that is brought to bear 358 THE LATTER DAY. upon the Jewish nation ? Is it, then, enthusiastic simply to believe, and presumptuous to look for the fulfilment of the word of Him who cannot lie ? Or are the terms so convertible in their meaning, that, believing those promises, and looking for their fulfilment, it becomes enthusiasm and pre- sumption, to use the ordinary means for the accomplishment of the end ? Well : let this all be as it may. Let the schemes of men, even of wise and holy men, come to nought. The page of immutable truth assures us, that ' The Lord shall set his hand ' to the accomplishment of his word. The Root of Jesse shall be set up as an ensign for the nations, and round it shall he assemble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together the dispersed of Judah, from the four corners of the earth. Yes : the thousands of Hebrew stran- gers, who dwell in these ' Islands of the sea' shall be recovered to their God, their Saviour, and the land of their fathers; and remain in unbroken peace, as a national monument of divine grace and power, in the centre of a converted and admir- ing world. - The Lord shall set his hand' to the work. It matters little, what may be his destined instrument. We believe that he will employ ordinary means, while he will bless those means in an extraordinary manner. In the interim, it is the imperative duty and high privilege of the Christian world, vigorously to employ those means. THE LATTER DAY. 359 Even should we be mistaken as to the mode, in which God has graciously purposed to bring about his designs of mercy to his ancient people, it will be no mean testimony of his favour, if he shall say of our attempts, as he said of David's desire to build a temple to his name, ' Thou didst well that it was in thine heart.' " i 1 The productions of the rest of the party are subjoined with the names of the respective writers. Sing unto the Lord a new song, and his praise from the end of the earth, ye that go down to the sea, and all that is therein ; the isles and the inhabitants thereof. Isaiah xlii. 10. Pilgrims of the broad, wild sea, Coursing its rough bosom o'er, Sing Jehovah's majesty, — Shout from earth's remotest shore ! Ever new your choral song, Floating the blue deep along. Dwellers in the sea-girt isles, Where eternal winter scowls ; — Where eternal summer smiles ; — Where the wild tornado howls, Or the breath of spices plays ; — Chaunt divine Messiah's praise ! Ye, who, 'till the Gospel shone, Dwelt where flaming Pele reign'd, 360 THE LATTER DAY. On her dire volcanic throne, O'er a thousand islands stain'd — Streaming dark with human blood, Reeking from the azure flood :- — Ye, who roam Australia's shore, Human but in form and crime : — Ye, who feast on human gore, Basking in the southern clime : — Ye, who spread your leafy sails, Freighted from Formosa's vales : — Sable myriads of the west, Bondag'd to a foreign soil, Where the sweet cane thrives unblest, Cultur'd by your blood and toil : — All ye dwellers of the sea, Sing Jehovah's majesty ! Lo ! the twilight sweetly smiles, Blushing in the eastern sky ; Hail it, earth's ten thousand isles, Lift your mingled voices high ! Lo ! He comes ! with loud acclaim, Shout Emmanuel's saving name ! Lo ! He comes, to judge, to save : — Judgment, for his foes and ours : — Tell it, ev'ry rolling wave, — - Judgment for Hell's trembling pow'rs ; But salvation for his own : Saints, behold your promis'd crown ! P. Hamilton. THE LATTER DAY. 361 The abundance of the sea shall be converted unto thee. Isaiah lx. 5. " This is one of the rich and numerous promises, which hang in clusters yet unripe, around the ruined walls and dreary cliffs of Zion. These promises shall arrive at maturity in the Lord's appointed time. The Christian often scarcely knows whether to weep or to smile at the infidel indifference, or impious contempt, with which prophetic parts of the divine word like this are treated. But it is enough for him to know, that it is the word of Him who cannot lie, and the purpose of Him who cannot fail of accomplishing his designs. " It is to the Jewish church that this sublime address of the prophetic spirit is directed. It is Zion that is to arise and shine amongst the gathered and converted nations, like a lofty Pharos, built upon some rock in the midst of the sea, and throwing its light upon every subject wave. In all probability, a flood of light, compared with which that of the brightest previous era will appear but feeble, will be poured upon the house of Israel in the latter day, and thence radiate upon the sur- rounding nations. To Thee, lonely Zion, shall the abundance of the sea be converted, in love towards thyself, in faith towards thy Saviour, and in zeal for thine honour. ' The abundance of the sea/ 362 THE LATTER DAY. may be understood, either of the whole mass of the world's population, or of those maritime na- tions, which in wealth, numbers, and intelligence shall finally hold the pre-eminence. The fame of the divine glory seen upon thee shall spread from shore to shore, and the waves of the ocean shall not wash a land too remote to hear of thy greatness, and to rejoice in participating of thy salvation. Won- derful prospect ! The most despised of all the tribes of men is to be invested with the fullest honours, and from having been the last, is to be- come the first of the nations. ' I will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations:' ' The city of the Lord, the Zion of the Holy One of Israel.' " Charles. Dan. vii. 2. Daniel spake, and said, I saw in my vision by night, and behold the four winds of the heaven strove upon the great sea. " The field of Daniel's prophetic vision presented the grandest combination of scenery. The ocean was before him, and formed the agitated arena, on which the four winds of heaven were contend- ing. Who would have expected, that out of a scene, as chaotic as it was sublime, should arise a series of mystic emblems, prophetical of the destined order of things upon the great theatre of the world ? Such, however, was the case. From THE LATTER DAY. 363 that confused and visionary sea, arose in orderly succession, the four symbolic animals, whose forms and actions predicted the character and history of the four consecutive empires, which, in the arrangements of divine providence, were to arise and prevail in the earth. When the Prophet's eye glanced heavenward, a very different spectacle presented itself. He beheld the consummation of human events — the judicial session of the Ancient of days on his throne of flame — the judgment of the last beast — the establishment of the Son of Man's everlasting dominion. " The process of the vision is actually the pro- gressive course of events. Amidst apparent confusion and anarchy, the purposes of God are operating to their end ; and when all the empires of earth shall have accomplished the preparatory objects for which they are permitted to arise, the kingdom of the heavens will be set up on its im- perishable basis. O Saviour, thou shalt see of the travail of thy soul and be satisfied ! All that travail, indeed, must have been undergone for the salvation of even one immortal human spirit from the burning flame : but, at the same time, it is sovereignly efficacious for the rescue of a multitude that no man can number, who shall constitute the happy subjects of thy endless reign. May we be reckoned with them in glory everlasting ! " Theophilus. 364 THE LATTER DAY. THE SEA AND THE WAVES ROARING. Luke xxi. 25. " It is of importance to observe, that predictions of the Lord's Second Advent, are generally, if not universally of a mixed character. The glorious reign of the Prince of Peace, will not be ushered in with unmingled sounds of joy and gladness through the world. The flood of mercy, which is to rise and cover the earth, is to be preceded by ' the sea and the waves roaring ; men's hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth.' By these precursory judgments, the church will be purged, and the enemies of the Lord will be destroyed. Solemn consideration ! Let it chastise the fervour of our glowing anticipations, and prompt us to close and frequent scrutiny into the state of our own souls. Are we prepared to be sifted as wheat? Alas ! it is too possible to have the imagination filled with glowing pictures of the future glories of the kingdom of Christ, and yet to mistake a strong natural taste, for what is grand or lovely in prophetic vision, for a spiritual delight in the reign of Christ. Oh ! that, when the tempestuated sea and waves shall roar beneath the breath of the blast of the divine wrath, we may enjoy conscious peace with God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, and be serene amidst a disordered world ! " Louisa. THE LATTER DAY. 365 The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. Gen. i. 2. Eternal Spirit ! at the birth of things, Wild chaos yielded to thy brooding wings ; Light, order, beauty, forms sublime or fair, Sprang into being in the quick'ning air Of thy soft breath : thy plumy, gentle breast On all the earth a peaceful smile imprest ; Dark ocean beam'd with heav'n's own glorious sheen, And God's approving look survey 'd the finish'd scene. That first creation typified the last : The future hath its model in the past. What, though chaotic gloom, misrule, and strife Again have spread the seat of human life ; What though the mental world be void and drear, And only forms of loathsome mien appear ! Eternal Spirit ! Promis'd and implor'd, By thee our ruin'd nature is restor'd. Oh! once again descend, and dove-like spread Thy brooding wings upon the ocean's bed ; Chase the dark chaos of hell's fiendly reign, And plunge into the gulf disorder, sin, and pain ! As erst Jehovah's form, by angels seen, Glided in silent majesty between The lightless globes, that teem'd around his way Where'er he trod, and roll'd beneath his sway, 'Till from his lips they heard the mandate fall, 1 Let there be light ! and there was light' on all : — It was the beaming of Jehovah's eye, That lit the starry splendours of the sky ; He look'd upon the vast — his look was light, And suns appear'd where'er he turn'd his flight : — 366 THE LATTER DAY. So, in the new creation's op'ning dawn, Jehovah, riding on the wings of morn, Cloth'd in the majesty of man-divine, On ev'ry soul, in ev'ry world, shall shine : Peace, the dear purchase of his precious blood, Shall sweetly smile o'er mountain, vale, and flood : New heav'ns, new earth ; — beneath, above, all new, Again shall meet the Lord's approving view : Gone, and for ever, sin and satan's train, Confusion, darkness, sorrow, guilt, and pain : Creation, recreated from the fall, Man shall be man again, and God be all in all. Edwin. CHAPTER XXVIII THE CAVERN. On Monday, the younger members of the two families went to visit a newly-discovered cavern, which had become a topic of general conversation. Charles Hamilton was requested to prepare an account of the excursion, with any remarks which might suggest themselves to his mind. In the afternoon of the following day, the whole party sailed to a distant part of the coast, and, having landed opposite the mouth of a large cavity in the rocky cliffs, drank tea after the gypsy fashion. While this refreshment was being prepared by the servants, the party seated themselves in a con- venient situation, and listened to the paper which Charles had written, on THE CAVERN. In His hand are the deep places of the earth. Ps. xcv. 4. " Subterranean scenery produces on the mind a class of impressions exclusively its own. All 368 THE CAVERN. human things seem there to be more than com- monly remote. You appear to be communing With disembodied Nature, in her den Of lonely desolation, silent and dark. " To quote more of the language of a modern poet, These halls Are unprofan'd with human workmanship : All that thou seest — those fretted roofs, high arching, From their vast piMars, those broad coigns and friezes, And sculptured pomp grotesque, and marble floors, And roofs of pendulous crystal : — these are all Nature's primaeval architecture. " But the experimental believer in Revelation enters these remarkable places with not only such, but also better feelings. ' God is here. In his hand are the deep places of the earth.' " Our yesterday's excursion led us along the flat of a fine sandy bay for about a mile, when we turned inland, and after driving a few miles through a country of simple, rather than striking beauty, we reached the foot of a singularly formed ridge of land, not unlike the back of some huge animal, reposing amidst the verdant landscape. Having gained the height, we drove along the THE CAVERN. 369 almost level summit of the hill, till we arrived at its extremity, where we understood was to be found the object of our search. A messenger was despatched for the farmer, who had the care of the interesting spot. He soon came with the necessary keys, lanthorn, and candles, and conducted us to the place. The entrance, now closed with a door, was narrow, and had at first been discovered by the accidental fall of a part of the soil and rock. The farmer left us here for some minutes, while he went into the cavern, but speedily returned, and, having given each of the gentlemen a candle, conducted us in. The passage descended with a moderate declivity for many yards, and though generally narrow and low, yet in parts varied in height and width. The rock was lime-stone, and, being much rent, and pervious to moisture, the roof and sides of the cavity were, in many parts, covered with the filtrated depositions of calcareous matter, in the forms of stalactite and stalagmite. The beauty and variety of the pendent stalactites often arrested our attention, as they glittered in the light of our tapers ; and we were amused in tracing the fan- tastic forms assumed by the stalagmite, as it had settled on the sides or floor of the passage. It frequently wore the appearance of the rough and thick hide of the elephant, and not seldom re- sembled that animal's ears. r2 370 THE CAVERN. " At length we reached the hall of the cavern, a spacious cavity, where, till of late, silence had sat enthroned during four thousand years, and where her leaden sceptre had not yet lost all its power ; for the first inclination of the mind on entering this hall, was to gaze around in mute admiration. The roof consisted of vast masses of rock, thrown into an apparently loose arch, by the hand of the Creator, and which, though they had retained their position for so many centuries, seemed momentarily to threaten a fall. The farmer had lighted up the hall, with candles fixed in different parts, which added much to the effect of the scene. But that which more than all attracted our notice, and called into incessant play the garrulity of our guide, was the immense quantities of animal remains which crowded the cavern. When first opened, it was nearly filled with a rich loam, thickly interspersed with the bones of numerous animals, and many cart-loads of which had been taken out. The floor of the hall was still composed of the same materials, and had been examined to the depth of thirty feet, without finding a bottom. Two or three of our party descended into a large cavity in one corner, where the loose mass of loam and bones, to the weight of many tons, seemed to need only a breath to entomb alive the adventurous traveller. We were both amused, and had our thoughts set THE CAVERN. 371 busily afloat, by observing, that our guide had made candlesticks for the tapers that illumined the hall, out of the bones of the antediluvian animals, which had found their tomb in that cavern. Here was a candle in the eye-socket of a buffalo, there in that of an elk. In one spot was a row of wolf's and fox's bones ; in another, those of horses and oxen ; while elsewhere were seen the jaw-bones and horns of deer, and other cor- niferous animals, which had their being in the world before the flood. It seemed like the charnel house of a former world, though the bones had all the freshness of recent slaughter. Speculation was ready to inquire, whether this had been the retreat of beasts of prey, whose spoils were now around us : or whether the cavern had been once open above, and had proved a pit-fall to the animals of the surrounding country ; or whether it had been their retreat and grave when the rising deluge drove them from the plains. There was no record of their history to be traced upon the walls of their cemetery ; and to every repetition of the question, ' Whence came they ? ' echo only re- plied, * Whence came they ? ■ Of this, however, on retiring from the cavern, we carried away a deepened conviction, that the Mosaic history of the flood is no cunningly devised fable. This, and numerous other similar cavities, in our own and other countries, proclaim the truth of the Holy 372 THE CAVERN. Scriptures : and it requires not a Samson to seize and wield the jaw-bone of one of these antediluvian animals ; it will equally avail in the hand of a child, to slay the Philistines of infidelity. " ' In His hand are the deep places of the earth/ and we owe it to his wisdom and goodness, that these cavernous archives of ancient and most important historical documents are now being successively laid open to the researches of men of science. But while irrefragable proofs are thence drawn in support of the Inspired records, con- cerning the deluge, let us hope, that our scientific men will imitate the philosophical modesty and Christian humility of our great Newton, as well as his bold, yet safe and calculated steps in ex- perimental philosophy. Before new systems are built up, the erection of which may shake, if it does not overturn the faith of ordinary or feeble minds in the unmixed truth of the Holy Scriptures, let us wait ' till the further progress of geological science shall have afforded us more ample in- formation as to the structure of our globe, and have supplied those data, without which, all opinions that can be advanced on the subject must be premature, and amount to no more than plausible conjecture.' 41 41 See Professor Buckland's Reliquiae DiluviaNjE. p. 47, THE CAVERN. 373 " Comparatively few of these ' deep places of the earth' have as yet been unlocked : but they are all in the hand of Jehovah, and perhaps he designedly keeps them closed, till a more humble and implicit faith in his own word shall have prepared the minds of men generally, for the developements which shall hereafter be made. While one generation is blowing bubbles for the next to break, God may be smiling at human folly, misnamed wisdom, and may purpose hereafter fully to open his all-comprehensive hand ; reveal the secrets of the earth ; and explain all the phenomena of nature, to the confusion and de- struction of infidelity, and to the honour and confirmation of his faithful word." CHAPTER XXIX THE STORM. Wednesday evening was spent at Mr. Wil- loughby's, and Pascal Hamilton brought out a paper, to which he had given the title of THE STORM. Here, hostile elements tumultuous rise, And lawless floods rebel against the skies, 'Till hope expires, and peril and dismay Wave their black ensigns on the wat'ry way. Falconer. " It is remarkable, considering how little the Jewish people were conversant with maritime affairs, that the Holy Scriptures should abound, as they do, with marine imagery. But they con- stitute a volume designed for the instruction, not of one nation only, but of all the families of the THE STORM. 375 earth, and for man in all the diversified circum- stances of his temporal being. They are, there- fore, written in a style, not exclusively calculated to interest and inform one class, or a few classes of mankind, but comprehending enough to arrest and hold the attention of all. The mariner, as well as the husbandman, when turning over the Holy Book of God, perceives and admires the wisdom and goodness of its divine Author, in adapting much of its rich and abundant imagery, to his own most frequent ideas and associations. Of these ideas and associations, perhaps the most numerous, and certainly the most impressive, are such as arise from the sea when in a tumult uated state ; and, accordingly, He who seeth the end from the beginning, and who foresaw how large a portion of the future generations of men would be ' dwellers on the sea/ or intimately connected with maritime pursuits, has interspersed through the Sacred Volume, very frequent allusions to the mighty waters, when agitated by storms. Let us endeavour to bring these allusions together, and connect them with some illustrative and instruc- tive remarks. " ' They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the.deep. For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to 376 THE STORM. the heaven, they go down again to the depths ; their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad, because they be quiet ; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh ! that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his won- derful works to the children of men/ " Had we never seen the ocean in any other than a state of tranquillity, we should scarcely believe the possibility, or credit any description of its being convulsed and disordered, to the degree which we occasionally witness. What an august view is here exhibited of the omnipotence of Jehovah ! He breathes upon the peaceful waters as they slumber in deep calm within the hollow of his hand, and at first they appear slightly ruffled. Now, ' the blackening ocean curls ' into billows, which soon swell from the gentle undulation, on which the curlew slumbers, to the surge, which emulates the mountains in height and width. Every wave, to use the emphatical phrase of sailors, is ' a sea/ The sun's last watery ray struggles between the heavy clouds, ** and the 42 " Some t>f the soldiers near me having remarked that the sun was setting, I looked round, and never, can I forget the feelings with THE STORM. 377 quickly succeeding night, without moon or stars, resembles the darkness of Egypt — a darkness which might be felt. Sails, rigging, yards, and masts, are quickly strewn over the angry tide, while one, and then another hapless mariner is swept into the abyss, and seen no more. Cimmerian darkness shades the deep around; Save when the lightnings, gleaming on the sight, Flash through the gloom a pale, disastrous light. Above, all ether, fraught with scenes of woe, With grim destruction threatens all below : Beneath, the storm-lash'd surges furious rise, And wave uproll'd on wave assails the skies. ' They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths : — they reel to and fro, and stag- which I regarded his declining rays. I had previously felt deeply impressed with the conviction that the ocean was to be my bed that night ; and had, I imagined, sufficiently realized to my mind, both the last struggles and the cdnsequences of death. But as I continued solemnly watching the departing beams of the sun, the thought that it was really the very last I should ever behold, gradually expanded into reflections, tifcte most tremendous in their import. — It was not, I am persuaded; eifeer the retrospect of a most unprofitable life, or the direct fear of death, or of judgment, that occupied my mind at the period I allude to; but abroad, illimitable view of eternity itself. I know not whither the thought would have hurried me, had I not speedily seized, as with the grasp of death, on some of those sweet promises of the Gospel, which give to an immortal existence its only charms ; and that naturally enough led back my thoughts, by means of the brilliant object before me, to the contemplation of that ' blessed city, which hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of G od doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.' " Loss of the Kent. 378 THE STORM. ger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end.' The vessel no longer obeys the ■ regent helm/ and the whole mass of waters may seem, to an unestablished mind, to be equally beyond all con- troul. But no : the infuriated waves, which appear to have completely thrown off the yoke of any superior power, are, in fact, as perfectly under the sway of Jehovah, in the midst of this wild disorder, as when they are calm, * like a molten looking-glass.' These are ' the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep/ and blessed and safe in the midst of his perils, is the mariner who ' sees' it with the eye of faith. While the helm of his vessel, perhaps, is broken in his own hand, and he may appear to be abandoned to the blind mercy of the winds and tides, he has been taught to believe that it is Jehovah who com- mandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves. He seems to hear the voice of the Lord upon the waters, issuing his commands. * The God of glory thundereth ; the Lord is upon many waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful ; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.' 43 He perceives tha't it is not chance, but the arm of the Lord which raiseth the stormy wind, and thereby, as with a lever, lifteth up to their terrific height, the ambitious waves. He knows that his Lord 43 Psalm xxix. 3, 4. THE STORM. 379 and Saviour presides ; that he hath * his way in the whirlwind and in the storm ; ' and that ' the clouds are the dust of his feet.' " Nor need ■ they who go down to the sea in ships, and do business in great waters' inquire, [ Is thy wrath against the sea ? M While, by the agitation of the elements, God, as the Ruler of nature, carries on his benevolent purposes, and promotes the salubrity of the globe, he also, as the Moral Governor of the world, prosecutes his purposes of judgment or mercy towards his intel- ligent creatures. There are great moral and spiritual ends answered by every storm that rages upon the ocean. Faith is called into exercise in the believer ; decayed impressions are revived and strengthened in the backslider; and alarm is spread through the souls of the careless and pro- fane. In such circumstances, it behoves every man to make instant and faithful inquiry into the probable design of the Almighty, in thus surround- ing him with dismay and peril. When Jonah was awaked from his slumber by the terrified mariners of Tarshish, conscious of guilt, he immediately perceived and acknowledged, why 'the sea wrought and was tempestuous.' ' I know,' said the self- condemning prophet, f that for my sake this great tempest is upon you/ Most men, in this situation, 44 Hab. iii. 8, 380 THE STORM. recognize the presence of the Lord God of heaven and earth, though with every possible variety of emotion, and in some way or other betake them- selves to 'the Invisible.' The affecting narrative of the loss of the Kent, which I have before quoted, affords an instance in point. " c The scene of horror that presented itself baffles all description. The upper deck was covered with between six and seven hundred human beings, many of whom were forced, on the first alarm, to flee from below, in a state of absolute nakedness, and were now running about, in quest of husbands, children, or parents. While some were standing in resignation, or insensibility, others were yielding to the most frantic despair. Some, on their knees, were earnestly imploring, with noisy supplications, the mercy of Him, whose arm, they exclaimed, was at length outstretched to smite them ; others were hastily crossing them- selves, and performing the various external acts required by their peculiar persuasions. Several of the soldiers' wives and children, who were in the after-cabins on the upper decks, were engaged in prayer, and in reading the Scriptures with the ladies, some of whom were enabled, with wonder- ful self-possession, to offer to others those spiritual consolations, which a firm and intelligent trust in the Redeemer of the world appeared at this awful hour to impart to their own breasts. THE STORM. 381 " * One young gentleman, having calmly asked me my opinion respecting the state of the ship, I told him, I thought we should be prepared to sleep that night in eternity ; and I shall never forget the peculiar fervour with which he replied, as he pressed my hand to his, ' My heart is filled with the peace of God ; ' adding, * yet, though I know it is foolish, I dread exceedingly the last struggle/ " ' At this period, I was much affected with some of the dear children, who, quite unconscious in the cabins, of the perils that surrounded them, continued to play as usual with their little toys in bed, or to put the most innocent and unseasonable questions to those around them. To some of the older children, who seemed fully alive to the re- ality of the danger, I whispered, * Now is the time to put in practice the instruction you used to receive at the Regimental-school, and to think of that Saviour of whom you have heard so much ? They replied, as the tears ran down their cheeks, ' O, sir, we are trying to remember them, and we are praying to God.' " Now, if never before, ' their soul is melted because of trouble/ Now, even if the language of prayer has previously been far from their lips, ' they cry unto the Lord/ What a comment is this upon the weakness and dependency of man, and the omnipotence and supremacy of God ! 382 THE STORM. These attributes, in unison with his goodness, are strikingly illustrated by the facts, that not one in five hundred of the vessels exposed to the fury of every tempest is wrecked, and that of the ship- wrecked crews, few comparatively perish. ' He bringeth them Out of their distresses/ The greatest ' wonders of the deep' are to be read in the book of providence. The foaming surge, which threatens to ingulf the vessel, lifts her over a hidden rock, and sets her afloat in a land-locked harbour. The flash of lightning, which kindles her top-mast, makes timely discovery of a lee- shore. The wind continues in a favourable quarter to secure the arrival of a leaky vessel, or a famishing crew on board a crowded ship, and then within an hour veers to the opposite point of the compass. One bark is forcibly driven out of her course by contrary winds, to afford relief to another in the last extremity of distress. The boats, to which a crew has resorted as their forlorn hope, are preserved amidst seas, in which their ship has foundered. The heavens become clear, the winds subside, the waters are tranquillized, just at the very time, when human skill and human strength have spent their last effort. ' The Lord maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.' This is as entirely the work of God, though in the ordinary way of his providence, as the miraculous instance recorded in three of the THE STORM. 383 biographical sketches of our blessed Lord's history, given us by the pens of his Evangelists. ' When he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him. And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves : but he was asleep. And his disciples came to him and awoke him, saying, Lord, save us ! we perish ! And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith ? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea ; and there was a great calm. But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him ? ' Sic ait, et dicto citius tumida aequora placat ; Collectasque fugat nubes, solemque reducit. jEn. I. 142. " O Saviour ! that voice of thine, which then rebuked the stormy wind and the raging sea, though uttered by human lips, was divine ; and thy form, as thou stoodest upon the vessel's brink, though the form of man, reflected a divine ma- jesty upon the tumultuated waters, and, like oil poured upon the waves, produced a settled and smiling calm. Very similar are thy dealings with thy people amidst those afflictions which are the storms of life. It is at thy command that the tempest often bursts upon a domestic scene, or 384 THE STORM. upon an individual mind, which had before re- sembled the unruffled bosom of a lake, surrounded by the everlasting hills, like that of Tiberias ; as in the case of the venerable Job, who exclaimed, in the bitterness of his soul, ' He breaketh me with a tempest!' It is at thy command that wave follows wave in rapid succession, until the over- whelmed spirit cries ' Deep calleth unto deep, at the noise of thy water spouts ; all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.' Then, having reduced the soul to perfect self-despair, and distrust of all human help ; when the soul is, as it were, melted ; and the conscious sinner lies at thy feet, asking in anguish, ' Master, carest thou not that we perish ? ' — thou, O Lord, rememberest thy compassions and thy promises, and thy afflicted ones hear thee, saying, in thy word, and by the still, small voice of thy Spirit, * Peace ! be still ! ' ' O thou afflicted, tossed with tempests, and not comforted ! — for a small moment have I forsaken thee ; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath, I hid my face from thee for a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer. For this is as the waters of Noah unto me : for, as I have sworn that the waters of Noah shall no more go over the earth ; so have I sworn that I would not be wroth with thee, nor rebuke thee. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be THE STORM. 385 removed ; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord, that hath mercy on thee/ " The joy of seamen, when a storm has*passed, and left them in safety, images the exultation of the servants of God, when ' the stormy wind, ful- filling his word, ' has accomplished its errand, and they find themselves secure in the enjoyment of his favour and protection. ' Then are they glad, because they be quiet ; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.' May this gladness, amount- ing, even on earth, to 'joy unspeakable and full of glory,' be ours, through a consciousness of being at peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. As mariners, on the termination of a long, event- ful, and tempestuous voyage, are joyfully hailed on shore, by expectant and affectionate relatives and friends, so may we be welcomed to the realms of eternal peace, by those who have arrived before us, or who have never sojourned in any other clime." During the conversation, to which this paper gave rise, the Vicar, with a smile, observed, that it was not to be expected that all the party were acquainted with the learned languages, and he therefore desired Theophilus to give them a version of his brother's Latin quotation. 386 THE STORM. Theophilus readily complied with his father's request, and in a few minutes presented him with these lines, at the same time making an apology for their poor pretensions to acceptance, in com- parison with the terse beauty of the original hexameters. " He speaks ! and sooner than he speaks, the seas, Swoll'n by the storm, his awful looks appease : He drives the gather'd clouds of heav'n to flight, And to his throne restores the God of light." The evening was closed with family prayer, Mr. Willoughby deeming it a privilege not to be neglected, to enjoy the kind assistance of his friend and pastor, at his domestic altar. After they had risen from the posture and act of sup- plication, they sang the well known hymn of Dr. Watts. When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes. Should earth against my soul engage, And hellish darts be hurl'd, Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. THE STORM. 387 Let cares like a wild deluge come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heav'n, my all ! There shall I bathe my weary soul, In seas of heav'nly rest, And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast. CHAPTER XXX JESUS ON THE SEA. The only production of the subsequent day, was a copy of simple verses from the pen of Julia, who read them while her family and friends took a temporary rest, during an afternoon ramble along the sands. JESUS ON THE SEA. Dark, and darker low'rs the sky — { There is sorrow on the sea/ As it foams in anger by, Swelling — rolling heavily. Tis the midnight watch : no star Glimmers through the rayless dark ; No red beacon from afar, Guides our solitary bark. Now it strikes the sunken rock ; — Now it floats above the cloud, Reeling to the tempest's shock, As it breaks in wrath, and loud. JESUS ON THE SEA. 389 Adverse blows the fitful gale ; Shelt'ring bay nor port is near ; Human skill and vigour fail ; Hope resigns her throne to fear. Lo ! amidst the raging storm, Cloth'd in majesty serene, Some divine, unearthly form Traversing the wave is seen. ' Is it from the realms of death ? ' Is it from the world unknown ? Ask we, while each panting breath Labours with a bursting groan. Lo ! it nears the vessel's side, Pacing the deep-furrow'd wave : Hark ! — our frantic spirits cried, 1 Comes it to destroy or save?' Hark ! — it is no earthly voice : — i Be encourag'd ! It is I ! i Fear not ; but believe — rejoice ! * I have brought salvation ni^h.' Saviour ! Lord ! and can it be ? Is it thy dear voice I hear ? Bid me come, O Lord, to thee : I can tread the waves, nor fear. * Come ! ' — But, lo ! the boist'rous wind Ploughs my pathway, deep and wide : Onward, down, above, behind, Fierce and fiercer roars the tide. 390 JESUS ON THE SEA. Save, O save me, Lord ; I sink Far beneath the yawning wave ! 1 Even from destruction's brink, ' Am I not at hand to save ? ' Fearful, faithless, look — believe !' Lord, I feel thy grasping hand ; Thankfully thy help receive ; Firmly on the billows stand. Walk I now on Hood, or shore, On the calm, or stormy tide, I will trust myself no more, But in Thee alone confide. Only through the tempest's sway, Let me see thee walking nigh : Only let me hear thee say, ' Fear not — doubt not — it is I.' CHAPTER XXXI EVENING. On the next opportunity, which occurred after the Hamiltons and Willoughbys had returned from a delightful walk on Friday evening, Louisa read a new paper, on an appropriate subject. It was this. " There are few scenes which do not appear to the greatest advantage in the evening. The massive ruins of feudal grandeur and power — the impregnable keep — the buttressed walls — the or- namented chapel — ' the embattled portal arch/ Whose pond'rous grate and massy bar Have oft roll'd back the tide of war, decorated as they frequently are, with simple flowers, which time has sown with one hand, while with the other he has carried on his work of destruction, may, indeed, be seen with most effect at the earliest hour of the day : and buildings 392 EVENING. of an exclusively religious order, at the latest hour. If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go, visit it by the pale moon-light ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower : When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go — but go alone the while — Then view St. David's ruin'd pile. Walter Scott. " But it is the evening which most attractively invests the generality of objects. The softness of the lights and shades, the air of repose resting upon all things, and the sympathy with the aspect of nature, felt by both the human frame and mind at the close of day, combine to render this the most suitable season for contemplating natural scenery, and especially that which is found in the vicinity of large lakes, or seas. None, who have visited the coast at the fall of the year, can have EVENING. 393 failed to remark, and consciously feel, the exquisite and incomparable beauties of our autumnal even- ings by the sea. It is not, however, in the soothing melancholy of mere sentimentalism, nor in that abstractedness or vacancy of thought, which bor- ders upon practical atheism, nor in that romantic and vagrant play of the imagination, which is the chief employment of an undisciplined, or the re- creation of a studious mind, that the Christian will delightedly indulge. When, like Isaac, he goes forth to meditate at even-tide, he will pray that the Spirit of peace and love may descend upon his soul, and impart a heavenly character and influence to the impressions made by the material world. He will be careful not to fall into the too common error, of mistaking those impressions for something more than earthly : nor to pace the fashionable and thronged esplanade, or the smooth and more retired sands, or the rocky pathway that overhangs the sea, with a conscious and haughty superiority over others, and the self- complacency, which is apt to be fostered, if not produced, by the possession of any degree of refined taste, or a capacity for enjoying the calm delights of nature. He will ask himself : ' Does the state of my soul harmonize with the pervading influence of this hour, and these scenes ? The heavens, the seas, and the lands, repose in mutual peace. Is there peace between my soul and heaven ? s 2 394 EVENING. Though I cannot, and dare not look back upon a day or an hour with self-satisfaction, is faith in exercise upon the work of rny Saviour, which, at an hour resembling this, received the seal of com- pleteness, as He exclaimed, It is finished? Am I laying open my heart to the visits of his Spirit, and the power of his word, so that, amidst the stillness of the evening, I may seem to hear Him say, and say with mild but efficient power, ' My peace I give unto you' ? Are my thoughts joyfully carried forward, as it were, upon the last lingering beams of the sun that has now set, to the last evening of my life, when that sun shall set to rise upon my grave, and when I hope that I shall become the inhabitant of a world, whose sun shall never go down ? Am I likely to be able to say, with my final breath, in answer to the inquiries of Christian friends — Peace ! All is well ! ' " One, in this manner affected, might not unaptly thus express his sentiments on the EVENING, Theiie is a smile of heav'n upon the sea, That lies, as molten gold, serene and bright, In its vast mould, wide, fathomless, and free From storm, or curling breeze : a flood of light, Whose ev'ry drop is gold, spreads o'er the height Of the far western sky : each skirting hill In massive purple rises on the sight : EVENING. 395 All, save the tinkling fold, and murm'ring rill, Seems spell-bound with delight, deep, meditative, still. The day is number'd on the roll of time, With all its centuries of reckon'd years ; The sun is gone to light another clime, And beam on other eyes, through smiles or tears : Pale, o'er the southern wave, the moon appears, Leading her train of stars, that meekly shine In modest splendour in their distant spheres : The ev'ning breathes a fragrance all divine, And whispers in the ear sounds soothing and benign. At such an hour, how blest the pensive soul, To yield, in placid thought, like the lone bird, Which floats upon the waves, that calmly roll, Scarce murm'ring to the shore, unbroke, unheard : So, resting on the all-sustaining word My thoughts repose, till faith and hope take Hight To where yon village spire points, heav'nward, The lofty realms of everlasting light, Lost in adoring love, and never-clouded sight. Saviour ! the hour is thine : no other name Be heard these rocks and rural glades among : Here let the sea-breeze fan my bosom's flame, And silence echo to my soft-ton'd song : To thee, dear Lord of all, my strains belong ; Thy Spirit taught them, and thy word supplied : Ye cliffs, ye shores, ye waves, the notes prolong, — The song's sole burden this, that Jesus died ! Oh ! waft the story far o'er ocean's azure tide ! 396 EVENING. Ah ! come That Day, by prophets long foretold. And sung by ev'ry bard from heav'n inspir'd : On ev'ry shore, whereon these tides are roll'd, Chill'd by the Arctic — by the Tropic fir'd, At ev'ning hour, from healthy toil retir'd, The youth shall wander, and the sage recline, To meditate on Thee, belov'd, desir'd ! Ponder thy beauties in the page divine, And see thy glorious form in nature's mirror shine." Louisa. Louisa was on the point of apologizing for the mediocrity of her performance, but her father, with a silencing smile, began to read from a daily paper, some very interesting particulars respecting a ship-launch, and then asked Theophilus, if he could not produce a lyric poem of Dr. Watts's, on an analagous subject. Theophilus speedily found, and read the poem. LAUNCHING INTO ETERNITY. It was a brave attempt ! adventurous he, Who in the first ship broke the unknown sea, And leaving his dear native shores behind, Trusted his life to the licentious wind. I see the surging brine : the tempest raves : He on a pine plank rides across the waves, Exulting on the edge of thousand gaping graves : He steers the winged boat, and shifts the sails, Conquers the flood, and manages the gales. EVENING. 397 Such is the soul that leaves this mortal land, Fearless, when the great Master gives command. Death is the storm : she smiles to hear it roar, And bids the tempest waft her from the shore : Then with a skilful helm she sweeps the seas, And manages the raging storm with ease ; Her faith can govern death ! — she spreads her wings Wide to the wind, and as she sails she sings, And loses by degrees the sight of mortal things. As the shores lessen, so her joys arise ; The waves roll gentler, and the tempest dies : How vast eternity fills all her sight ! She floats on the broad deep with infinite delight, The seas for ever calm, the skies for ever bright. Watts. CHAPTER XXXII. THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. The last Sunday evening spent by our two families by the sea, was improved, as before, by a social service at Mr. Willoughby's, where also a few other select friends were invited to attend. The passing votaries of pleasure may have smiled contemptuously, but angels smiled with compla- cent delight, and the Lord of angels and of saints smiled with approving love, when the little com- pany surrounded the social altar, and sang the well-known hymn of the Christian poet, which commences with God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. The Rev. Mr. Hamilton then opened the Sacred Volume ; and, having read the Thirty-sixth Psalm, THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 399 offered the following remarks upon part of the sixth verse, which, at his request, he after- wards wrote out, and gave to his friend Mr. Willoughby. THY JUDGMENTS ARE A GREAT DEEP. " We are not to be surprised, that the operations of Providence largely partake of the unfathomable mysteriousness of the divine character itself. They would otherwise want the stamp of divinity. In reference to these, we may, therefore, ask the question, which Zophar put to Job, respecting Jehovah himself. ' Canst thou by searching find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection ? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do ? Deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea.' " The counsels of the divine mind, in which all the operations of Providence originate, partake of the same nature, and are spoken of in similar language by the inspired writers — language, which cannot fail of being frequently brought to the remembrance, and pressed upon the consideration of sojourners by the sea-side. In the ' Psalm for the Sabbath-day/ the devout soul is thus aided in the utterance of its reflections upon this subject. ' Lord, how great are they works ! and thy 400 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. thoughts are very deep. A brutish man knoweth not : neither doth a fool understand this.' It ap- pears, then, to be one mark of folly closely allied to the stupidity of brutes, to remain contentedly ignorant of the mysterious depths of the counsels of the Most High, or to conceive of them as re- sembling those of shallow-minded mortals : like children, who would as heedlessly play upon the verge of an unfathomable gulf, as upon the mar- gin of a rippling brook. On the contrary, it is the mark of wisdom to entertain a humble and adoring reverence for the ' deep thoughts' of God. This was the prevalent sentiment of St. Paul's mind, when he exclaimed, in language familiar to all who have imbibed his spirit, ' O the depths of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past rinding out ! For who hath known the mind of the Lord, or who hath been his counsellor ? ' Doubtless, there are counsels in the divine mind, lying far too deep for even the first-born and most gifted of the angelic family of God, to reach and comprehend. The being who stands highest in the scale of created intelli- gences, is but finite ; and how can the finite comprehend the infinite ? " The results of these ' deep thoughts ' of God, appearing in the arrangements and works of his providence, are often, if not always equally pro- THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 401 found. Questions may arise out of the simplest of those arrangements, and out of the lowest of those works, which no mind of man can solve. How humble, then, should be the spirit, in which we conduct our inquiries, and how implicit our faith in the principles of that divine government of all things, which must be righteous, although it may be inexplicable. We say, ' the divine government of all things/ because ' all are but parts of one stupendous whole.'. The parts may be minute, and exceeding the powers of either human calculation or penetration : like the inconceivably minute drops or particles which make up the ocean. So the judgments of God are a ' great deep/ and constitute one grand whole. " How comparatively few of the particulars of God's providence come within the observation of the most considerate mind ! ' Lo, these are parts of his ways : but how little a portion is heard of him ! ' If we attempt to survey the entire field of His sway, * whose kingdom ruleth over all,' we are soon lost in the immensity of the vision. We are fully assured of the fact, that the immediate superintendence of God reaches over all the worlds which his hands have made, and that his flat is obeyed in the most distant places of creation — in the lowest depths of that universe which he has filled with being. Not that any are really distant from him. The innumerable multitude of worlds roll 402 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. around his footstool, and are comprehended within the circle described by his sceptre. Not a leaf of the forest, nor a drop of the ocean, nor a thought in the recesses of the bosom of any intelligent being, can move but in subordination to his will. The heights of heaven and the abyss of hell, hear, and are controlled by his judgments. But how aw- fully profound those judgments remain, to all but his own great mind ! " It has pleased God to bind up, in the volume which records his revelations to man, and his dealings with our race, a fragment or two from the volume of his higher dispensations. In these we discover the first glimpse afforded to man of the dreadful abyss of moral evil, into which incal- culable multitudes of creatures, originally made capable of knowing, serving, and enjoying God, have plunged each other and themselves. If, then, we venture upon the consideration of the origin of sin, and proceed to view the separation it occasioned in the unseen world ; if we contem- plate the upholding of the heavenly hosts in their allegiance to the King of kings, and meditate upon the perfection of their bliss ; and if we advance to the brink of the bottomless pit, and gaze with trembling awe upon ' the angels who kept not their first estate, but left their own habi- tation, and whom the Judge of all hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness, unto the THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 403 judgment of the great day ; ' must we not subse- quently retire with the sentiment of the Psalmist upon our hearts and lips, f Thy judgments are a great deep ! *? And will not this sentiment become more weightily impressive, if we ponder over the history of our own race? Here, again, the devout soul will be constrained with humble solemnity to exclaim, * Thy way is in the sea ; and thy path in the great waters ; and thy footsteps are not known ! ' How * deep are the judgments of God,' whereby the hosts of darkness were still left to range abroad in search of opportunities of spread- ing the destructive plague of sin, by which they had been exiled from the heavenly city ! How mysteriously was the Prince of darkness permitted to bring within the noisome shadow of his wing our newly-created world ! But far deeper than the judgment of wrath, which kindled the flames of hell for the devil and his angels, was the judg- ment of love, which devised and executed the stupendous scheme of human redemption. How deep was that thought of mercy, and that stretch of power, which interposed between man and utter ruin ! ' In this was manifested the love of God towards us, because that God sent his only begot- ten Son into the world, that we might live through him.' Goodness is an essential attribute of the divine nature ; but the dispensation of the Holy One, on which, above all others, happy spirits in 404 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. his beatific presence will bestow the admiration of eternity, is the salvation of sinners of mankind, by the obedience unto death of his incarnate Son. Thy judgments of mercy are a great deep ! "Look we at God's general government of the world, since the fall of man, and the revelation of a Saviour ? What a depth in the divine opera- tions do we again behold ! Trace them from the brief memorial of Adam's first born, to the succinct records of the deluge : from the sacrifice on Mount Ararat, to the call of Abraham : from the hour of that Patriarch's separation from an idola- trous world, down through the history of his descendants, to the advent of the promised ' Seed of the Woman : ' read the extant records of polished nations, and listen to the traditionary narratives of the ruder and larger masses of mankind ; over what dark and fearful depths do we shape our course ! All the movements of nations, savage or polite; all the schemes of politicians, in the hut, or in the senate-house; all the achievements of warriors, clothed in the tawny lion's skin, or the imperial purple, have passed under the directive or permissive government of Him, who ' sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers/ Yet what line of human comprehension can fathom the ' deep judgments,' which have ruled and operated alike in the secret plans and overt acts of men — of men THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 405 too, who, in general knew nothing of God. ' Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holdcn to subdue nations before him : and I will loose the loins of kings, to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gates shall not be shut. I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight : I will break in pieces the gates of brass, and cut in sunder the bars of iron. And I will give thee the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places : — I girded thee, though thou hast not known me/ f Nor do we traverse, or tread the shore of depths less profound, when we direct our view to the church of God. How many questions crowd in, even upon the humble mind, which it is obliged to leave unanswered ! How inexplicable to human reason is the paucity of the number, which has hitherto constituted that church ! How limited has been the saving benefit received from a system of mercy, which appears to be unlimitedly appli- cable to the wants of perishing man ! How soon has an impenetrable gloom spread itself over the brightest prospects of the church ! What a blight has suddenly descended upon its most promising fields ! How have the wicked triumphed, and the faithful soldiers of Christ retired from the conflict in dismay ! Verily, O Lord, thy church, in lowest self-prostration, must say, * Thy judgments are a great deep ! ' 406 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. " Our individual observation and experience no less clearly displays the force of this sentiment. I have seen, what seemed to me the wisest schemes for advancing true religion in a city, a parish, or a family, frustrated, while others of an apparently opposite character have succeeded. I have seen individuals enjoying every external advantage, fall short of the kingdom of heaven, while others, surrounded by almost every impedi- ment have rushed forward, and taken it by force. I have seen prosperity assigned to the lot of one, whose incipient religion has thereby been nipped in the bud ; while the nature and fruitful piety of another has been most severely pruned by rapidly successive cuttings of affliction. With such things before me, I could only say, ' Thy judgments are a great deep : ' or endeavour to enter into the feelings of my Saviour's mind, when he said, 1 1 thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and pru- dent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.' " My personal experience, may every Christian say, corresponds with my observation. The divine judgments respecting me have been deep, whether I view them as illustrative of the wisdom, the power, or the love of God my Saviour. How mysterious and wonderful were the paths by which he led me through all the days of my unregenerate THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 407 state, to the moment when he brought me to him- self, embraced me with the arms of his reconciled love, and adopted me into his ransomed family. Surely those paths resembled the ways of Jonah ' in the deep, in the midst of the seas/ Since then, his Holy Spirit lias graciously dealt with me as he did with his ancient people, subsequently to their emancipation from Egyptian slavery. ' He made known his ways unto Moses, his acts unto the children of Israel/ Yet are there many appointments of his will, respecting both my tem- poral and spiritual lot, which are to me inscrutable, and which, probably, will so remain, until I see Him face to face. " But let us take one more view of ' the judg- ments of God as a great deep : ' — the view presented us through the vista of prophecy. Of what unprecedented transactions is this world to be the theatre, before the consummation of all things ! What trials, and what subsequent glories await the church ! What struggles are to be made, what efforts put forth, what temporary advantages gained by the Anti-christian powers ! What a field of carnage is to spread around the prostrate walls of ' Babylon the great/ and around the unassailable bulwarks of ' the holy city ! ' Who can, by anticipation, fathom the depth of that sea of glory, which for one thousand years is to cover the earth, or of that mysterious 408 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 'judgment/ for the execution of which, ' satan shall be loosed out of his prison,' preparatory to the ultimate triumph of ' the camp of the saints, and the beloved city,' the resurrection of the dead, and the final judgment? " May the Lord, however, impart to us all, the meek and lowly spirit of Moses, that we may ever profitably bear in remembrance his wise monition : ' The secret things belong unto the Lord our God : but those things which are revealed, belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law.' " Yet, as we now delight to pore upon the calmly-swelling ocean from an overhanging rock, and look many a fathom down through its trans- parent wave ; may we not joyfully anticipate a day, when, reposing in the calm of heaven, we shall be gifted with sufficiently penetrating powers of vision, to see through the depths of at least the judgments of God, which affect his church, and particularly ourselves? Of this we are assured, that every mystery shall be explained, which it really concerns our happiness to comprehend. • What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter.' " In the interim, may it be our grand and pri- mary object, to store our minds with all that the Lord has been pleased to reveal in his word, and which he applies by his Spirit to the heart. Thus THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. 409 shall we be fully capable of entering into the great Apostle's views, as given in his Former Epistle to the Corinthians. ' Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit : for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. For what man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him ? Even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God, that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God.' " The Vicar then conducted the little assembly to the throne of the heavenly grace, and afterwards brought the service to a close, by giving out to be sung, a hymn, which, at his request, his younger daughter had written on the words of his present subject. HYMN. Though deep thy judgments, sov'reign Lord ! Too deep for line of man to sound, Yet may I fathom, by thy word, Some distance down the dark profound. This may I see, that love pervades The boundless ocean as it rolls ; Its brightest hues — its darkest shades Are gilded with thy love to souls. T 410 THE DEPTHS OF PROVIDENCE. Amazing grace ! that stoop'd to save My spirit from the drear abyss ; That snatch'd me from the naming wave, And keeps me for eternal bliss. This — this enough ! I ask no more : Where angels pause, I fear to tread ; Nor trust my footsteps from the shore, 'Till by thy hand divinely led. Then o'er the deep I'll fearless stray, Adoring as I pass along ; And make the realms of cloudless day Re-echo with my grateful song. CHAPTER XXXIII A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. By general consent it devolved on Pascal Hamilton to anticipate their approaching de- parture from the coast, and to draw up a concluding paper on the above thesis. He cheerfully complied with the request of his friends, and when they spent their last evening together on Tuesday, he read as follows : A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. Once more upon the waters ! yet once more ! And the waves bound beneath me, as a steed That knows his rider. Welcome, to their roar ! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead ! Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvass flutt'ring strew the gale, Still must I on * for I am as a weed Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail. 412 A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. " Such was the language and the sentiment of the noble, but unhappy Bard, whose song has done little for the world, save to relax its already too dissolute sense of moral and religious obli- gation. Yet, thought I, as I repeated these lines to myself, while waiting for the carriage which was to convey us from the sea-side to our inland home, his mental, and peculiar, and unenviable history, evidently, though unconfessedly sketched in Childe Harold, may teach me many useful and memorable lessons. He, led by the ignis fatuus of his own extraordinary but fatal genius, wandered about the world, without a home, or a heart, which he could call his own : and at last, in the prime of manhood, lay down to die in sullen unbelief, amidst the scenes of his soul's idolatry. How preferable is mediocrity of talent, consecrated to the o;ood of man and the glory of God, before genius desecrated to its possessor's spiritual ruin, to the demoralization of the world, and to the dishonour of the Father of lights, from whom cometh every good, and every perfect gift. I felt thankful that I could quit scenes, to which my natural taste, and many most grateful associations attached me, without looking upon the rest of creation as a blank : that I had a home to return to, still more endeared to my best affections ; that I had hearts linked with my own by stronger ties than human selfishness ; and, above all, that, in A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. 413 the prospect of an unknown futurity, I could look up, through a divine Mediator, to the Great Supreme, and humbly, yet confidently say, ' My Father, thou art the guide of my youth. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.' " The carriage now arrived, and when I had seated myself in it, and left the town, I yielded up my mind to silent emotions of gratitude to ' the Father of mercies ' for the innumerable comforts and enjoyments, which had blessed our temporary residence by the sea. The feeble had been in- vigorated, and the strong confirmed in health. We had not been called upon, like a family who oc- cupied the next house to ours, to leave one of our number behind us in the grave. Christian fellow- ship with our beloved friends had given a new, and even intense interest to scenes and seasons, on which the mind looked back with delightful recollections ; and though, on the review of our time, we had much reason for making humble acknowledgments of unprofitableness, yet were we thankful to Him, * from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, .and all just works proceed/ that we had not altogether misimproved our oppor- tunities of getting and of doing good. " When we reached the eminence, which a month before had given us our first view of the sea, we again stopped the carriage to take our 414 A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. farewell of an object, whose various aspects, as they had since presented themselves to our nearer contemplation, had exhibited every combination of the sublime and beautiful, and had acquired an interest in our minds, which will terminate only with life. Perhaps we should have taken our last view, and hastened on with less regret, had the day been one of clouds and rain, rather than, as it proved, one of the brightest and calmest days of the declining year. I was reminded of Dr. Johnson's reflections in the concluding paper of his Idler. ' There are few things, not purely evil, of which we can say, without some emotion of uneasiness, this is the last. Those who never could agree together, shed tears when mutual discontent has determined them to final separation ; of a place which has been frequently visited, though without pleasure, the last look is taken with heaviness of heart. — We always make a secret comparison between a part and the whole ; the termination of any period of life reminds us that life itself has likewise its termination ; when we have done any thing for the last time, we involuntarily reflect that a part of the days allotted us is past, and that as more is past there is less remaining. " ' It is very happily and kindly provided, that in every life there are certain pauses and inter- ruptions, which force consideration upon the care- less, and seriousness upon the light ; points of A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. 415 time, where one course of action ends, and another begins ; and by vicissitudes of fortune, or alteration of employment, by change of place or loss of friend- ship, we are forced to say of something, this is the last. " ( An even and unvaried tenor of life always hides from our apprehension the approach of its end. Succession is not perceived but by variation ; he that lives to-day as he lived yesterday, and expects that as the present day is such will be the morrow, easily conceives time as running in a circle, and returning to itself. The uncertainty of our duration is impressed commonly by dis- similitude of condition ; it is only by finding life changeable that we are reminded of its shortness. " ' This conviction, however forcible at every new impression, is every moment fading from the mind ; and partly by the inevitable incursion of new images, and partly by involuntary exclusion of unwelcome thoughts, we are again exposed to the universal fallacy ; and we must do another thing for the last time, before we consider that the time is nigh when we shall do no more. — -An end must in time be put to every thing great, as to every thing little ; to life must come its last hour, and to this system of being its last day, the hour at which probation ceases, and repentance will be vain ; the day in which every work of the hand, 416 A LAST VIEW OF THE SEA. and imagination of the heart, shall be brought to judgment, and an everlasting futurity shall be determined by the past.' " As I turned away from giving my final look at the now distant ocean, I was strongly reminded of St. John's vision in Patmos, and my thoughts voluntarily ran into a metrical mould on his words : AND THERE WAS NO MORE SEA. From Patmos* rocky height, the Prophet's view Embrac'd the future scene. Lo, all was new ! New heav'ns distill'd their stainless dews around, And fertiliz'd a new earth's teeming ground : No storms disturb'd. no clouds obscur'd the sky, And all beneath was peace and harmony ; Gone were the springs of error, wrath, and guile ; Heav'n smil'd on earth, and earth return'd the smile. And there was no more sea ! the new-born whole Bloom'd one vast Paradise from pole to pole ; From passions that pollute, from fiends that tempt, Tempestuous troubles, changes, wars exempt. No separating deep 'tween saint and saint, No secret sorrow, and no loud complaint Was there : God wip'd all tears from ev'ry eye And gave to ev'ry soul its changeless destiny." 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