Their aim was, directly or indirectly, to level all at myself; while they seemed to think I was bound to answer all their nonsense and profaneness, and that it behoved me to explain away, or take upon myself all the faults and follies, real or imaginary, which they brought forward against those they called "Methodists," a term which, in their vocabulary, comprised individuals of all sects, parties, ranks, and ages, who feared God, and endeavoured to work righteousness. Hence every ridiculous story, and every lying report which they had either read or heard of, was brought forward to make sport at the expense of the Bible, and to prove to me that religion was all cant and hypocrisy, and that its advocates were either fools or knaves. At the close of each of these silly anecdotes and groundless reports they would appeal to me with the air of imaginary triumph, and exclaim, "There, what think you, M—s, of that?” This merriment, at the expense of the vilified and misrepresented Methodists, might have passed off without producing little else than a smile of contempt and pity, had it been the worst I unhappily had to hear: but, as the wine passed round, the surgeon's animal spirits became more buoyant, and his profaneness more satanic; while the objects of his attack were more and more sacred. The reader, by this time, must be aware, that it never was my custom to do what has been justly condemned both by land and sea, under the designation of "cramming religion down men's throats." On the contrary, I ever considered it extremely improper to introduce spiritual conversation, until I perceived something like a prospect of doing it with profit to my hearers,

and credit to the cause of God. As a layman, and an officer in the public service, I felt that my first great business was to endeavour to keep my own heart with all diligence, and thus to speak to others, rather by my actions and conduct than by assuming the office of the preacher. There were, however, times and occasions when it became a duty to speak out, and fearlessly and unreservedly to confess Christ Jesus before men. I need hardly say that such did present themselves more than once while I was on board the V. It is true, that so far as my poor brainless fellow-passenger was concerned, all argument was thrown away, for he really knew not when he was confuted: and oftentimes the conversation of the surgeon was too much like that of a being labouring under the effects of a frenzied brain, to call for any reply. To the more sedate part of the company I however, at times, considered it right to address myself; but here I could go only on general and broad ground, because they knew little of, and cared less about the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel. Yet I hope even this little was not altogether in vain in the Lord. More than once or twice I brought them to acknowledge that there must be a God, the Creator of all things; that his power and rule must extend to and over all his works; that his approbation or disapprobation must mark the conduct of all his rational creatures; that reverence and gratitude were due from man to his Maker; and that the circumstance of our holding a temporary command over a portion of our fellow-creatures, could never absolve us from that humility, obedience, and love, which were, and ever must be, due to the

King of kings and Lord of lords. To this length I generally could carry my point, even in the presence of the daring, infidel surgeon, and boisterous, profane lieutenant. Not but that they both would continue to pour forth, the one his blasphemy, and the other his nonsense. At times, indeed, they seemed hurried on by a spirit of evil, to such lengths, that I considered it altogether improper to be a hearer, and on such occasions, left the table, and repaired on deck, where I could walk, and muse, and sigh over the folly and madness of the heart of man, as a mystery of iniquity, while destitute of the regenerating grace of God. The case of the surgeon much perplexed me. That a person with so much good sense as he appeared to possess, should actually be the dupe of infidelity, even unto atheism, seemed incredible. Yet, that he should so furiously profess such principles with his lips, and really not believe in them in his heart, was again what I could hardly think possible. The poet, Campbell, seems, to have, for a while, fallen into the same perplexity, when he beautifully put the question,

"Oh, lives there, heaven! beneath thy dread expanse,
One hopeless, dark idolater of chance,

Content to feed, with pleasures unrefined,

The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind;

Who, mouldering eastward, 'reft of every trust,

In joyless union wedded to the dust,
Could all his parting energy dismiss,

And call this barren world sufficient bliss?"

And as the same page informs us, he at length came to the melancholy conclusion, that such infidels, such

atheists, were actually to be found; for thus he proceeds, in strains as enchanting as their theme is dismal—

"There live, alas! of heaven-directed mein,
Of cultured soul, and sapient eye serene,
Who hail thee man! the pilgrim of a day,
Spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay,
Frail as the leaf in Autumn's yellow bower,
Dust in the wind, or dew upon the flower;
A friendless slave, a child without a sire,
Whose mortal life, and momentary fire,
Lights to the grave his chance-created form,
As ocean-wrecks illuminate the storm;
And when the gun's tremendous flash is o'er,
To night and silence sink for evermore !"

Campbell's Pleasures of Hope.

In reference to the poor surgeon this matter was, however, cleared up before I left them. One morning, a morning that succeeded to an afternoon of more than usual profaneness on his part, I found him, as was his general custom, pacing the deck alone, sad, and thoughtful. I went to him, and, in as kind a way as I could, I said, "S- -, your conversation at the mess-table has often surprised and grieved me beyond measure, but it did especially so yesterday afternoon; I am utterly astonished that a man of your good sense and abilities should advocate such principles, and advance such language as you are in the habit of doing." He stopped short, looked a look of desponding melancholy in my face, and exclaimed, "M, you are right; the principles you maintain are true-you are on the safe side, and I am damned!" "Damned!" I replied, "why you deny in toto the very existence of hell and damnation!"

“Ah,” said he, "I know there is a hell, and that there is damnation, and I shall go to hell and be damned for ever!" Such a reply as this, uttered, as it unquestionably was, from the agonizing feelings of a guilty conscience, and a despairing state of mind, and accompanied by a look of indescribable distress, fixed me for some moments in silent amazement. His hand still resting on my shoulder-we stood and looked at each other, I in astonishment at what I had heard, and he in evident anxiety to hear what I should say in reply. Recovering myself, I resumed the conversation. "S- -, your language now is as absurd, though not so criminal, as that which I before complained of! You say you know there is a hell and a future state; why then dc you persist day after day in denying these truths? why endeavour to persuade others that there is no future state of rewards and punishments? Have you not constantly maintained that these things are only the dreams of silly fanatics, or the sayings of knavtsh priests?" He shook his head, and seemed in an agony, while he replied, "Ah! it is to no purpose your thus talking to me, my doom is fixed-I shall be damned!!” my dear fellow," I interrupted him, "there is mercy with God that he may be feared and relied on, the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. Pray for repentance unto life, and your prayer will yet be heard. Remember Him who, while pouring out his soul unto death for sinners, cast his eyes of mercy and compassion on the ignorant, idolatrous, blaspheming Roman soldiers, and on the unthinking and profane Jews, who surrounded his cross, and mocked his sufferings; think of

No,