foreboded little else than tribulation as their every day's lot. During the two years that the Cremained abroad after I left her, the Lord's day was never once observed. The serious midshipmen were ordered never to visit the officers' cabins, unless on duty; and all the officers, of every description, were prohibited from reading religious books to the people.

Thus the Retrospect has carried me through some of the principal events of my life, and in conclusion, has shown the rise and suppression of religion in one of his Majesty's ship of war.* Natural curiosity may prompt

*This ship's complement consisted of six hundred and forty souls. At the time of her return to England, and being laid by in ordinary two years after I quitted her, she had been in commission eleven years. The whole Sabbaths of nearly eight out of the eleven had been entirely profaned, without so much as even the form of divine worship having been observed. Nor was this by any means an uncommon thing in the navy. So far as the writer's observations went, for a certainty two-thirds of our line of battle ships, and nine-tenths of all smaller ships and vessels, were as remiss in honouring and hallowing the Lord's day as the Chad been. The distinction between Sunday and other days at sea consisted, in the writer's time, of setting aside the more laborious and dirty work, mustering the crew in their best clothes, examining and taking an account of their stock of wearing apparel, reading the Articles of War every fourth week, and giving liberty for the purchase of an extra and unnecessary portion of rum from the shore when in port. When the reflecting mind contemplates this state of things, and connects it with the remembrance of the horrid custom of admitting such swarms of prostitutes on board our ships as soon as they reach their anchorage, (the writer has known more than three hundred of these wretched beings on board his ship at one time,) how evident it is, that He who hath used the instrumentality of our navy to defend

my readers to ask many questions respecting my name, my character, and present pursuits. Now, as to the first of these subjects of inquiry, it really is not worth knowing; and the second can be truly drawn by none except by Him "who searcheth the heart and trieth the reins of the children of men," and who hath warned both them and me, "if we think we stand, to take heed lest we fall." As to the third, I shall gratify them so far as to observe, that on my return to England, I found my naval friends high in power and office, and willing and able to serve me. God, however, had given me another mind. For, when I looked back through all my professional labours, motives, and acquirements, and tried them in the balance of the sanctuary, I found their amount only vanity and vexation of spirit. Ofttimes had my conscience loudly remonstrated against many parts of my public duty, and there was no prospect but of deepening its wounds while I continued in the service. In the mean time, the concerns of eternity appeared more and more solemnly important. I beheld myself as a creature born for an endless existence, and felt that that existence would be replete with blessedness

and preserve the country, did not give victory for the sake of the great mass which fought her battles! It will, however, afford some consolation to the serious reader to know, that the morals. and manners of our seamen in general are gradually improving under the various means now used for their instruction in our seaports and the merchant service. Whether any real moral improvement is attempted, or produced on board our ships of war now in commission, I have many doubts to discourage expectation, and but little ground to build any hopes upon-time and events will ere long inform us.

or misery, according as this little span of time was devoted to God or to the world. Viewed through this medium, every thing wore a new aspect, and appeared in a different light to what it formerly had done. When, with eternity on my mind, I looked round and contemplated mankind at large, and those, in particular, whom I left in what is called the high road to honour and happiness, I could not but pity them. I felt the whole force of Cowper's lines, and often repeated them to myself, saying,

season.

"I see that all are wand'rers gone astray,
Each in his own delusions; they are lost
In chase of fancied happiness, still woo'd
And never won. Dream after dream ensues,
And still they dream that they shall still succeed,
And still are disappointed. Rings the world
With the vain stir. I sum up half mankind,
And add two-thirds of the remaining half,
And find the total of their hopes and fears—
Dreams, empty dreams!"

What I could I had done to impress their minds with a sense of the reasonableness of seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. I had seen the blessing of the Almighty accompany these endeavours for a I had witnessed his unerring providence allow them to be suspended where he had once opened the door for their progress. The same providence had at length removed me from this distressing situation, and in a manner had unfitted me for resuming it again. Indeed, I earnestly longed, should God so permit, to devote my whole life and exertions exclusively to his

service in the established church; to retreat into some humble, quiet nook, and there, far from the strife and tumult of worldly and ambitious scenes, to labour among a poor and plain people for the honour of God, and the good of souls. The subject had been strongly enforced on my attention by several pious friends at Portsmouth and Plymouth, and hence I began to direct my studies, and to arrange my plans in this direction, waiting the indications of Providence to see whether the cloud moved towards the object in view or not. Many and great obstacles presented themselves; but in the Lord's time they all vanished, and my desires were wonderfully accomplished. My humble name found a place on the honourable and awful list of labourers in the vineyard of Christ. The people among whom I was appointed to minister were of that description who formerly heard the word gladly. (Mark xii. 37.) And my situation is as much as possible out of the reach of observation.*

"Since, then, with few associates, in remote
And humble life, I live, far, far from those
My former partners of the peopled scene,
With few associates, and not wishing more.
Here much I ruminate, as much I may,

With other views of men and manners now,
Than once, and others of a life to come.

Nor have I any cause to apprehend I have stepped out of that path which a gracious God had marked out for me.

* This more particularly applied to the time when this chapter was first published.

CHAPTER IX.

"THE LORD WILL TAKE VENGEANCE ON HIS ADVERSARIES, AND HE RESERVETH WRATH FOR HIS ENEMIES."-NAHUM i. 2.

THIS portion of Holy Writ I conceive is declarative of that vengeance which the eternal Jehovah takes in the present life, as well as of that tribulation and wrath which is to be inflicted in a future state. I am well aware how many awful instances of vice and wickedness pass here, without any singular or visible mark of divine anger. Many dreadful sinners are permitted to live out all their days without experiencing any particular trial; without once smarting under the rod of insulted mercy and justice. While they live this is their language: "Our life is short, and in the death of a man there is no remedy. Come on, therefore; let us enjoy the good things that are present; and let us speedily use the creatures as in our youth. Let us fill ourselves with costly wines and ointments; let no flowers of the spring pass by us. Let us crown ourselves with rose-buds before they be withered. Let none of us go without his part of our voluptuousness; let us leave tokens of our joyfulness in every place; let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." That morrow arrives, and "they depart with their hearts full of milk, and their bones full