The Seaman's Magazine.

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. - They cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses.-Psalms.

THE MERCHANT BRIG AT SEA.

THE Hope, of London, captain James Adams, of 180 tons, left England about the latter end of April, 1818, with a cargo for the Mediterranean. She chartered again in Sicily, after an intermediate voyage, and loaded fruit in the spring of the year 1819 for Petersburgh. After another trip to a port in the Mediterranean, she arrived in London, towards the spring of the year

1820.

Captain Adams had for his mate Samuel Newman, a tolerably steady young man, of about twenty-six years of age. Newman had taken early to a sea life, but not before he had acquired the arts of reading and writing, and had received many good admonitions from his pious mother, who had been left a widow when Samuel was about seven years old. The advice and example which he had also had from the teachers of a Sunday School, at which he attended for two years; the very important portions of scripture, the instructive hymns, which, as lessons, he had committed to memory, and his constant attendance upon public worship, when a youth, were advantages which he did not at first value so highly, as he was enabled to do afterwards.

When he first went to sea he was on board a ship bound up the Baltic, whose master was a sober man, and a good sailor. The crew were also rather above the ordinary run of seamen. When he next changed his ship, he changed for the worse; and bad company, worse books, and immoral songs, were productive of associations, which led him into the paths of sin and folly. His conscience had often disquieted him, because he knew that he sinned against the light and knowledge which he had acquired before he went to sea. Sometimes he endeavoured to pacify conscience, by making himself merry with an extra quantity of liquor; but the misery to which such indulgence would inevitably bring him, was happily too evident for him not to see his danger, and he had grace given to withstand the temptations. Although he had found means frequently to quiet, or rather to stupify conscience for a time, its upbraidings returned more often than he liked, and he felt that every way of transgression is hard. The Hope, in which he now sailed, might be called a comfortable ship.

Newman was an excellent sailor, fearless in the ship's duty, diligent and trustworthy; qualities which had brought him from before the mast, and had advanced him to the station of mate. In this station his conduct was meritorious; but as to his duty towards his Maker, his mind was thoroughly unconcerned.

When he left the Sunday School, he received a Bible, which he had always taken to sea with him, but it was generally left at the bottom of his chest. The very sight of it was, to speak the truth, unpleasant, and its aspect appeared reproachful. He would have liked to have had it for his friend and companion, because he knew that, were its society acceptable, it could not but make its willing associate happy: yet, for want of resolution, for want of a suitable friend to encourage him, in short, for want of sufficient inclination to consult, he neglected his Bible, and it was, almost the whole of the voyage, his sleeping fellow traveller.

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Something like this was the state of Newman's mind, when on the forecastle looking out a-head as the Hope came up the Pool, he saw a large lofty vessel riding by herself, with only one jury mast, and totally unlike a merchant ship. He knew that she could not be a king's tender, as she was without a pendant; and while amusing himself with conjecture what she could be, and still more amazed as he drew near by perceiving a large entranceport in her bow, and a landing stage near the water's edge, he looked eagerly, as he passed the stern, for information.

He read as he passed, "CHAPEL for SEAMEN;" and immediately concluded that this was the "Ark," of which he had heard some rumours from sailors whom he had seen in the Mediterranean.

The "CHAPEL for Seamen" gave instant birth to a thousand confused ideas relative to his earliest youth. He remembered the prayers of his mother, and was greatly affected by the recollection of the tears which she shed when he first left her to go to sea, and the advice which his mother and his teachers pressed upon him as to his future conduct; nor did the dormant state in which his Bible had beer, suffered to lie so long, escape the whispering accusations of conscience. He sighed, and wished, but what his wishes were, were indistinct even to himself, but though confused they were sincere; and this became prayer to him "who seeth in secret, and despiseth not the sighing of the contrite heart, nor the desire of such as be sorrowful."

The sight of this "CHAPEL for Seamen," had unquestionably pleased him. His heart felt the cheering sensation of hope, that now he was returned to London, and that there was a CHAPEL for Seamen, he should in some way be the better for it.

The brig brought up in a tier just above the "Ark," and scarcely was she fast before he was with the pilot, hoping to learn from him what he wanted to know. "Was the chapel entirely for seamen? Might any sailor go there? Whose was it? Who preached there? Was it for captains, or for common sailors as well as for masters? Was it free and open every Sunday? And what were the hours?" Such was the nature of Newman's inquiries: but as the chapel had no attractions for the pilot, he could give him no information, except indeed, that he had heard that many seamen went every Sunday, and that some methodists, well meaning perhaps, but more zealous than wise, wanted to make methodists of the sailors.

Newman's curiosity was by all this rather increased, to see the inside of this ship so converted into a floating church. He cast many a look towards her as he attended his duty on board the Hope; he sighed from the very weight of his own emotions, and fervently longed for the coming Sunday.

Captain Adams had also eyed the Floating Chapel as the Hope passed her, and although he made no inquiry about her, he had made many observations. He too, had inwardly determined to visit the chapel, of which hẹ had heard when abroad more than had come to the knowledge of his mate. When the latter respectfully asked permission to go on the Sunday to the chapel, the captain consented cheerfully, and, to Newman's high delight, declared his intention to go with him.

At length the Sunday came, and as early as some necessary duties would permit, he went to his birth and dressed himself in his best suit. He then walked the deck, watching at every turn as the expected hour drew near, whether any thing was doing on board the Ark. He observed the ensign displayed at the staff, the jack forward, and a pendant at the mast head, and at ten o'clock the Blue Peter run up, which he was informed by a waterman, was a signal for the congregation to assemble; and when he saw several ship boats pulling towards her full of people, he could no longer refrain from going to the cabin to inform the captain, who was reading below. The rest of the crew being also desirous of seeing the chapel, their own boat was soon manned, and leaving the boy to keep ship, they were soon alongside the

after-stage of the Ark. Other boats arrived at the same time, and Newman entered the place of worship with a sense of awe, attended with a sensation of delight. He could hardly believe his eyes, when he saw the galleries, the pulpit, and every accommodation of a spacious chapel, and his heart rejoiced when he cast his eye on the benches, already occupied by seamen in clean jackets and trowsers; some reading, some sitting, as if meditating, and all in perfect silence, decorously waiting the commencement of divine service.

He and his shipmates took their seats beside the sailors, and when he saw some on entering fall upon their knees for a minute or two for silent prayer, his tears could no longer be restrained. He wished to do so too, but was ashamed; yet, as he sat with heart and eyes full, ere he was aware, he inwardly and fervently prayed for God's blessing on himself and his ship

mates.

The prayers, reading, and preaching were very interesting to him; but when the psalm was given out, (the words suiting his frame of mind,) and he, at last, by dint of effort, was enabled to join his voice of praise and thanksgiving with the animating voices of hundreds of seamen, he felt a delight which made him really despise all which before he had called plea

sure.

Captain Adams had met with some brother captains, who had invited him to take a seat with them in the gallery, formerly the gun deck, when the ship was in his majesty's service as the "Speedy." The scene and the solemnities were not lost upon him, and he acknowledged himself at the conclusion of the worship to have been highly gratified, and declared his purpose to renew his visit.

For the information of strangers, notice was given, that in the evening the Seamen would assemble for prayer and praise. Newman was earnestly desirous to be with them, and asked and obtained his captain's permission. The evening meeting was not so numerous as that in the morning. It was composed mostly of seamen of religious character, in number about one hundred. Here was a new scene. Newman had formerly often been present, when the gentlemen who had acted as teachers at his Sunday school had engaged in prayer. He had also heard extempore prayer by ministers at the chapel where he attended, when he belonged to the school, but it was beyond any idea which he had formed, that a sailor in his jacket and trowsers should pray without a book; and when he heard sailor after sailor offer most solemn prayer, in easy, intelligible, and scriptural language, asking just for such mercies as he knew he stood in need of, and returning, for himself and those around him, thanks for the blessings which he knew he had enjoyed, and often without a thought of gratitude to their bountiful bestower, his heart melted within him. He had, as the other sailors now had, kneeled down; and, concealed by his hands which covered his face, he gave vent to his feelings, and let his tears flow freely.

At the conclusion of this affecting service he withdrew with a full heart, and returned to his ship with emotions really indescribable. While in port, he continued a constant attendant on the public worship on board the chapel. Sometimes also he visited his brethren, who invited him to their week evenings for prayer, on board other ships, under the care of the Seaman's Bethel Union Society. He found these meetings growingly attractive.

The sight of so many sailors on their knees, and the sound of sailors' voices, artlessly and fervently imploring God to forgive their sins, and expressing thankfulness for a cheering hope of eternal blessedness through Jesus Christ, was fixed deeply in Newman's mind. He thought of it over and over again, and was led on by degrees to consider, that if other sailors were thus concerned for their souls, he, a sailor too, ought not to be indifferent about his own.

He remembered some of his former companions who had died, and some, who, in the midst of their strength, had lost their lives by sudden and violent accidents at sea; and concerning whom, he could not but apprehend that they were not prepared for heaven. The question then occurred to him, but their souls! where are they? He hesitated long in venturing on a reply. Again, he thought, had I been then summoned to appear before God, where might my soul have now been? This came still closer home to him. He remembered that his life had been thoughtless, and sinful, and that a sea life especially is exposed to many and peculiar dangers, and that death might on a sudden hurry him to his final account.

About the time when his mind was thus exercised, he heard an animated preacher speak largely on the serious question proposed by our Lord, as recorded by St. Matthew, xvi. 26. "For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" In the course of the sermon, the preacher represented the infinite value of the soul, by showing the ETERNITY of its existence; and alarmed his conscience by a description of the solemnities of the day of judgment. Thus awakened, conscience, which had often been lulled by the general idea idea of God's infinite mercy, now rejected this plea as insufficient, because God's infinite JUSTICE still remained unsatisfied. He felt that God is as holy, just, and true, as he is merciful; and was penetrated with the conviction, that the holiness, justice, and truth of God, required a full atonement for the sin which he had committed. He thought of somehow atoning for his sin by his own repentance for the past, and to prove its reality by living a better life in future. This for a while pacified him; but by reading the sacred scriptures, and praying for spiritual instruction, faithfully comparing himself with that law of God which is exceedingly broad, reaching to the very thoughts and intents of the heart, he found that his repentance needed forgiveness, and that, however he resolved upon new and perfect obedience, he ever failed in the performance.

Humbled in heart under this discovery, and the awful sentence, " Cursed is every one who continueth not in ALL THINGS which are written in the book of the law to do them," (Gal. iii. 10,) sounding in his ears, he gave vent to his feelings, and poured out in prayer before God his confession of utter unworthiness and total helplessness; and, with an earnestness never before experienced, he offered, from an agonized mind, the publican's prayer, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner."

He had not yet any intimate religious friend to whom he could confide secrets of this nature; and his wife, although a seriously disposed and worthy woman, rejoicing in the improvement evident in her husband's temper and conduct, yet not understanding the subject of his distress, could not become to him a solid comforter. He continued therefore somewhat dejected, but gave diligent attention to the preaching of the gospel; and in the course of his attendance on public worship he heard sermons from the following, and similar texts of scripture. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matt. xi. 28.) "Christ died for our sins, according to the scriptures." (1 Cor. xv. 3.) "For he hath made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." (2 Cor. v. 21.) "If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." (1 John ii. 1.) "Whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely." (Rev. xxii. 17.) From these encouraging declarations, and from reading the contexts, he obtained, by the blessed influences of the Holy Spirit, knowledge of the way of justification by faith in the blood of a crucified Redeemer. His heart was soon enabled to praise him who bore the curse which himself deserved, and in doing this he found a rest of soul, of which, till then, he had no idea; and he determined, by the grace of God, that as Jesus Christ had died for his sin, so he would strive to live thenceforward a godly life to his Redeemer's praise.

With the deepest humility and self diffidence he then solemnly devoted

himself to God, and prayed with heartfelt earnestness, that he might be enabled to be watchful and prayerful, and to be kept from backsliding into the ways of sin and death. This was nearly the situation of his mind when he attended public worship at the Ark for the last time before going to

sea.

The owner of the Hope, having launched a new vessel, promoted captain Adams to the command of her, and by his recommendation the Hope was put under the command of Newman. As she was ordered to take a general cargo for the Mediterranean, she lay some time in the London Dock, which was favourable for Captain Newman, who, with his wife and child, and his mate, (the late second mate,) a tractable hopeful young man, attended the Sabbath duties on board the Ark. The captain, having by his new practices become very serious, wished much to obtain a sober, and if he could, a religious ship's company. By constant attendance at the chapel, he had become acquainted with those gentlemen of the committee of the Port of London Society, who superintend there on the Lord's day. He applied to them to recommend some hands to him, and by careful inquiry into character, he had reason to hope that four of the six hands he shipped, were rather more than merely soberly inclined; and the other two were well recommended by former masters, as obedient, trusty, and skilful seamen.

Besides his own bible, which he now greatly prized and often read, Captain Newman purchased two of large print from the Merchant Seaman's Auxiliary Bible Society, (which, to aid sailors to obtain them, are sold at less than cost price,) intending one for general use in the cabin, and the other for the people. For the latter he had a box made and put up in the forecastle, and had painted on the lid in large letters, HOLY BIBLE. As the hands he had shipped came on board, he observed with pleasure, that each brought a good and well supplied chest, a sure sign of a worthy sailor.

Thus all was promising, and the captain took leave of his wife and child with much composure. They had in prayer committed each other to the care of their Creator and Redeemer, and both knew that during their absence prayers would arise from each for the other. He left his owner and brokers with a sedate cheerfulness, but still with those sensations, which only those know who go to sea as masters for the first time.

On the Brig's arrival at Gravesend, the Merchant Seamans' Bible Society's boat, with Lieutenant Cox, came alongside. Captain Newman welcomed him on the deck, called all his hands ast to hear the society's message, and while he enjoyed secret delight in finding that the four seamen had each a bible of his own, he was not a little gratified at the willingness of the others to purchase a bible or a testament at the reduced prices, and he advanced them willingly the money they needed for the payment.

The Hope got into the Downs on a Thursday morning, and, the wind being easterly and the tide suiting, they sent the pilot on shore in a Deal boat, ran through the Downs, and by Sunday were clear of the Channel.

It was to this day which captain Newman had been long looking; the first Sunday at sea with the ship under his own command. He had soon after being seriously impressed with the importance of religion himself, felt that if ever he should command a ship, he ought to promote religion among those committed to his charge. The pleasures which he had found in social worship on shipboard, where the great majority of the congregation consisted of sailors, had quickened his desires of sanctifying the Sabbath at sea as well as on shore. He purposed to begin on the first Sabbath; but however much he felt it to be encouraging that his little crew were not of an ordinary cast, and that they would not object, yet there was a novelty to him in his attempt to conduct social worship in his cabin at sea, which he felt required a courageous resolution to carry into effect.

He had given an early intimation to his ship's company that he should expect the Sabbath day to be distinguished from other days; that he should