Rev. George Wilkins, Capt. John Smith, of Glasgow, and many others, that this is one of the few books ever popular among sailors. We purpose, therefore, to give, during the year, portions of this admirably-written book, which will afterwards be published in the "Life of the Rev. G. C. Smith."

Perhaps some who knew the old Boatswain, as he was called, would be pleased to join Mr. Cory in thus helping to perpetuate, not only his memory, but the great work inaugurated by him. Subscriptions sent to the Editor for this purpose will be duly acknowledged in "Chart and Compass," as also any facts relating to his life and work.-ED.

THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE;

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO BRITISH SEAMEN.

Plymouth Dock.-Sailors Meeting in the Street.*

BOB.-Yo ho, shipmate, what ship? From whence came you? JAMES.-I belong, my brother, to the Royal George, 110 guns, in Cawsand Bay, just come in from the Grand Fleet.

BOB.-You've slipt your cable and run on shore then, my boy,

hey?

JAMES.-I landed two days since, and am going on board, according to orders, to-morrow, as we expect to sail soon to blockade.

BOB. Fine weather on shore, shipmate; plenty of pirates in the harbour, dashing away with prize-money; saw two pendants flying this morning-made sail-they stood off-gave chase-they tacked and stood cross the street-I luffed up, lay right in the wind's eye -they bore away-squared my yards-out studding sails—sung out steady-ranged up alongside on their starboard quarter-poured in a broadside-they struck-took them in tow, and saw them moored about an hour since close aboard the rocks. What say, shipmate, will you share the prizes? Castlerag, messmate, that's my roadstead.

JAMES.-Thank you, shipmate, but I'd rather be excused; you are very frank in communicating the particulars of your cruize, but it would have afforded me far more pleasure to have heard a better account of the manner in which you have spent your time on shore.

BOB.-Time, shipmate! time on shore? What's time for, but that a fellow may enjoy himself while he has it, especially on shore? Why, I would'nt give a rope's end for that man who does'nt make hay while the sun shines, as long as his liberty-ticket lasts.

JAMES.-If you mean that we should improve the time allowed us by our officers to be on shore, so that we may be gratified with the reflection of it on board, you have my hearty concurrence; but if you mean that we should rush into all the vices that we pos

*Bob hailed as Boatswain's Mate from his Majesty's ship "Dreadnaught," 98, and James (who represents Mr. Smith) as Quarter-master from His Majesty's ship, "Royal George," 110 guns.

THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE.

21

sibly can on shore, because we must go on board again, I hope you will not be angry with me if I differ from you on that point.

BOB.-Angry! why, no shipmate. I'm not angry, d'ye see; but you seem to be a vessel under false colours; I'm upright and downright: and, if so be you'll bear away with me to Rotten Row, why, about-ship, and, if not, sheer off, or [here a dreadful volley of oaths succeed.] When God, and Christ, and hell, as words abounded.

JAMES.-I'm truly sorry, my brother, that any observation of mine should induce you to swear so awfully; but I trust you will be satisfied, when I assure you that far from being an enemy, I am a real friend; and I solemnly declare that no man is more willing to do you, or any fellow-seaman, all the good I possibly can, than myself.

BOB.-Are you true-blue, messmate? true-blue will never stain; if you're not, up with your helm and about-ship, before I bring my lower-deckers to bear on you, and blow you sky-high. Look

out.

JAMES.-If by true-blue you mean, am I faithful to my king and country? I reply, yes, I am; and let these scars prove it [showing his arms and bearing his breast]. I've spilt my heart's blood in defence of the island I love; and, after fighting at the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar, receiving ten body-wounds, and serving twelve years in different ships as an able seaman, I think no one ought to question my sincerity and zeal. But, if by trueblue you mean to ask, am I a drinking-debauched profligate and thoughtless man-of-war's-man? I honestly confess I am not; and I cannot express the grief I feel that you appear so insensible to your immortal interests, as to plunge body and soul into hell, for the momentary gratification of the basest lusts. [Tears of pity trickle down the manly cheeks of James.]

BOB. Avast there-avast there, messmate-clap a stopper on that there rope: come, come, no broadside yet-you've no leak in the hull-let's have none of the eye-pumps at work-why, you make me think of the time when Poll piped her eye all the way on shore, because we were ordered out to the Indies. Stand fast, messmate, you seem to be a good fellow; let's make sail for the Nelson, at North Corner, and take in a double allowance of grog. Grog for ever.

JAMES.-It pains my mind, shipmate, to be obliged to reject this request also; because I know it flows from an abundance of good nature in you; but, indeed, my brother, I've no taste for any company or accommodation to be at a public-house in a sea-port town. There was a time-Oh, my God, that I am spared out of hell!

BOB.-Ha! ha! brother, what, you are there, are you? - I

thought we should soon find out what sort of stuff you're made of -what, you are a Methodist lubber, are you? What, preach to a fellow in the open street? Why, split my jibboom if I wouldn't sooner be a lob-lolly-boy, or a Frenchman, than a Methodist-allhands up anchor a-hoy-tumble up there-tumble up there, my boys. Shipmate, I shall up sky-scrapers and moon-rakers, so don't give chase; I'm off.

JAMES. My dear brother, I must throw out a grappling-iron, then [takes him by the hand]; your good nature and frankness constrain me to bring you too. Oh, my friend and brother, let me intreat you for your own soul's sake-for Christ's sake-for God's sake: remember that the " wages of sin is death"-you are mortal, and must die—you may die soon-you must appear before God to give an account-what will you say at His bar on the day of judgment?—where will you fly for refuge, when the dead arise and this world is in flames ?—I beseech you to stop-think-look forward. I love your soul-I long for its salvation-I would lay down my life to benefit your soul-stand for a minute. Oh! think of your precious soul!

BOB.-Lower away there messmate, lower away-let go. If what you say is true, and you love my soul, why, then, I don't care if I back my main-top-sail and clue up the foresail for a few minutes, to speak you.-Ho! the ship, a hoy-are you in the Methodist service? I hate the Methodists as I do a French three-decker, ever since my grog was stopped on a banyan day, because our Methodistical purser's steward saw I was half-seas-over; I should be glad to see them all kick the bucket. Down to Davy's locker with them, say I. A bag of ballast for all. Grog for ever, I say, and no Methodist for me.

JAMES. I am happy to see you so willing to comply with my wishes; and now, if you please, we'll walk into Stoke Fields, and there, retired from the bustle and interruptions of the town, we'll have some further conversation on the subject. [They walk out of Devonport, and sit down upon the grass in a retired field.] Now, my friend, suffer me to enquire what you mean by a Methodist, and then I'll explain to you what I am.

BOB.-A Methodist, messmate? Stand fast there-none of your driving a fellow upon a lee-shore with jaw-breaking words and outlandish lingo. Why it's Dutch, is'nt it? Bill Ringbolt says so.

JAMES.-Nay, I only ask for an explanation of the term you thought so applicable to me, because I breathed a short prayer to God, and declined drunkenness and whoredom.

BOB.-Avast, messmate! let's overhaul my knowledge-box. Methodist! Methodist! why, he's like our dolphin striker, to be

W. CUFF ON C. H. SPURGEON.

23

sure, always cutting every sea that touches the cut-water-he won't swear-but lie most confoundedly, and cheat, deceive, and steal. I've heard, d'ye see, that all the bum-boat men, slop-sellers, and Jews who come on board at pay-day, are Methodists, because they are such anointed rogues. Tom Handspike told me so t'other day—and Tom knows,-whip me, if he don't. So I have you, shipmate.

JAMES.—If, my brother, to avoid evil and practise good, to oppose sin and follow Christ, to be laborious in promoting the welfare of immortal souls, and anxious in whatsoever we do to do all to the glory of God, is to be a Methodist, I glory in the name; and, with the apostle of old, would rejoice to be counted worthy to suffer shame for the sake of Christ. These are my principles, and it is my earnest prayer to be more entirely conformed in all things to the illustrious pattern of the Lord Jesus Christ, as exhibited in His life and death, by "the glorious gospel of the ever-blessed God." This shall be my prayer.

BOB.-Avast, brother, not so fast-why, you sail nine knots upon a wind, just as if you had been chaplain of a first-rate for forty years. Let me ask you, shipmate, what did you come ashore for! there's the point. I came to kick up a row in the play-house; to hoist in a good sea stock of grog, and cut capers in Rotten Row; last night was a jovial night there-fiddling and dancing till twelve, -kept it up till eyes made signal for sailing-dropped anchor and moored head and stern at two-anchor a-peak again this morning —at six, hauled tacks abroad and made for more sport. That is what I call life. No Methodist, d'ye see! no, no, none of your canting and whining for me.

JAMES. My dear friend, your manner of life is no surprise, though 'tis a subject of the deepest lamentation to me. Accustomed to a man-of-war so many years I can be no stranger to the thoughtless and dissipated lives of our ship's company, and would to God that anything in my power could stop them in their fatal progress to eternal perdition.

(To be continued.)

W. CUFF ON C. H. SPURGEON.

THE Rev. W. Cuff has promised to give this lecture on his great chief, on behalf of the British and Foreign Sailors' Society, of which he is a Director. It is to be given in the East End of London, for the first time (and we promise the Eastenders a rare treat), the proceeds to go towards "our Sailors' Hymn Book," an edition of which is just published, to be used on all oceans and in all ports. Pastor Cuff is a born leader. of men. With a good voice, and rich Saxon vocabulary, and almost a superfluous reserve of energy which needs working off

every few days, he is just in his element among the thousands of this teeming London. This lecture is accompanied with dissolving views. Cartoons of Mr. Spurgeon, which have appeared in the papers, are thrown upon the sheet, and the chatty, running remarks and criticisms, are most telling. The plates cost over £100, while the lecture has considerable historic detail not only of Mr. Spur geon and his illustrious predecessors, but of the Baptists generally.—ED.

Since writing the above the Rev. A. Brown has promised to lend his Tabernacle for the lecture, and we expect him to preside. With Mr. Spurgeon in the centre and his two chief students, one on the right and the other on the left, we may expect, not only a good picture, but a picture gallery.

WELL DONE, JACOB THOMPSON.

WE are right glad to see an old shipmate do honour to his noble profession. Mr. Thompson is a true son of the sea. He will not turn his back on sailors. For years we have followed him with the greatest interest. No doubt the Lord will open a sphere for him, as soon as his studies arè finished, where he can work unfettered as the agents now do of this Society. We clip the following from the "Daily Gazette" of the north ::

"An instance of rare success at the University of Durham has come under our notice. Mr. Jacob Thompson, the only son of the celebrated artist, appears in the list published on Saturday as having passed the theological examinations with honours, and obtained a scholarship of £30 per annum for two years. Mr. Thompson, who is forty years of age, only commenced the study of Latin and Greek this year; there were forty-two candidates, and out of this number he stands third. Mr. Thompson is the author of "Eldmuir "-his first production—which was published by Sampson, Low, and Co., at 14s. a volume; it was beautifully illustrated after some of the great pictures of his father, and attracted much attention at the time. Mr. Thompson's intention is to enter the Church of England, when he will specially devote himself to evangelistic work amongst sailors."

ASIATIC HOME

FOR the natives of India, Arabia, Africa, China, Straits of Malacca, the Mosambique, and the islands of the South Pacific. Do go down the West India Dockroad, Limehouse, and see this wonderful centre. There are many strange gatherings in this mighty London, with its five millions (nearly), but we question if there is one more interesting to the man who has not left his own shores, than this Home. Ask for the superintendent, Mr. John Freeman, who seems to be the right man in the right place, and if you can talk Asiatic or Polynesian languages, you may soon make friends with some of your darker-coloured brethren. Last year 570 men passed through the Home, and, even before 1876, no less than 6232 natives had found here a place of refuge. We say to the readers, Go and see for yourselves.

SHIP-OWNER'S WIFE CARING FOR SAILORS.

MY DEAR SIR,—You are doing good service in giving space in your valuable Magazine every month to reports of the Lord's work among sailors. Such a want has long been needed, and we are thankful that God has raised up one, and him the secretary of the British and Foreign Sailors' Society, to supply this want. Here,