loose before the amen, and hauled off, to get away from shipmate. Two nights afterward, Bob came for me, and took me to church again. This time the Captain was harder with me than before. He bore down upon me with all his guns. Before the sermon was over, I was a total wreck, and every sea swept over me from stem to stern.' "Then he told us how he returned to his lodgings, locked himself up, and tried to pray, but found no comfort; how he went the next night to the theater, but felt worse there than at church; and the next night to a frolic, but could neither drink nor dance away his sorrows; visited an old friend in Brooklyn; wandered in the woods of Long Island; remained there alone all night; cursed; prayed; thought of putting an end to his wretched life, but was deterred by the fear of hell; the next morning, weary and faint, made his way back to the city; Sabbath repaired again to the church; 'seized a rope' which 'was thrown out' to his drowning soul; was 'hauled on board the gospel ship,' in which he had been sailing ever since,' in hope of rounding the cape of death, and making the harbor of glory!' It was the genuine eloquence of the heart, and produced such an effect as is seldom witnessed under the more polished oratory of the pulpit. ་ "If they that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars forever, Mr. Chase is likely to occupy no obscure position among the sons of light. He has been preaching to the mariners here more than twenty years, and scarcely a week has passed without conversions under his ministry. Many have carried away serious impressions from his church, and been subsequently converted at sea, or in foreign ports. I remember the narrative of one who left the preaching with a contrite heart, and the next day embarked for a voyage. On shipboard he read his Bible, and constantly prayed for the forgiveness of his sins. But for some time he found no comfort, and the burden of his sorrow was increasing. One day he was sent aloft to reef topsails in a squall. A sudden lurch of the vessel threw him into the sea. 'I sunk,' said he, 'like lead in the mighty waters; but my heart went up as my body went down. I thought of Peter; and cried, Save, Lord, or I perish! When I came up, I saw a plank which they had thrown me; and being a good swimmer, I was saved. They hauled me on board; but I felt that my sins were all left behind me in the depth of the sea!"" CHAPTER XII. NEW YORK. "The city, full of smoke and sin; WHENEVER the weather and the state of her health allowed, Mrs. Cross usually spent a part of each afternoon in visiting remarkable places, public edifices, and the various curiosities of art with which the city abounds; and always on her return sketched her impressions of whatever object or incident had interested her during the excursion.The following is a specimen: "Our first visit to-day was to The Battery. Beautiful spot! It looks like a remnant of nature which has not yet passed under the hand of the executioner. What a pity it seems, that man should spoil the glorious works of God, to make room for his own manufactures and merchandise! But here, as if his heart relented, he has left an emerald lawn, shaded by a few friendly trees.How divinely it contrasts with his own puny productions just across the street! albeit there are some of the finest buildings in the city. But Time triumphs alike over the beauties of nature and over 918000A the works of art. His footsteps are seen upon the grass, and his fingers have touched the foliage. Thus, even here, in this wilderness of art, I find enough of nature to remind me of what I am and whither I tend. We all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, as the wind, have carried us away.' How frail! how fleeting! And I, alas! shall soon be numbered with the leaves of autumn. But let me not be too much saddened by these melancholy emblems. Spring will return, and the grass will renew its greenness, and the mournful branches will rejoice again in their verdure. O, let me think of my own resurrection! 'What though sickness, pain, and sorrow Soon shall dissipate the gloom!'" On the thirteenth of October she writes: "Well, I have been in New York a month. It is time for me to sum up my thoughts and impressions, and make out my estimate of the city. I have spent several hours, every pleasant day, traveling through this wilderness of architecture; straining my eyes up every street, down every alley; trying to get some idea of the form, extent, and manifold wonders of the place. What a contrast to the scenery of my distant home! Anax agoras imagined the sky made of stone; but to me, it seems built of brick and mortar; and the narrow opening overhead, revealing a strip of azure, only indicates that the design is not quite completed.To my unpracticed ear, the incessant din of the streets resembles the noise of a distant waterfall; and when I sleep by day, I dream of impetuous torrents and romantic cascades; and the illusion is aided by the changeful song of the mocking bird, and the mellifluous trill of the canary, that hang in my neighbor's window. "Whereunto shall I liken this great emporium, and with what comparison shall I compare it? It is a living Mäelstrom-a human Niagara-a Nebuchadnezzar's furnace-a very Gehennah, whose fires are never quenched, and whose carcasses are never consumed-an interminable succession of novelties, till novelty itself grows old, verifying the saying of Solomon, There is no new thing under the sun.' But that famous exclamation of the Wise Man, Vanity of vanities! all is vanity!' is scarcely applicable without some qualification. There are green spots in Zahara, and Milton speaks of some vestiges of virtue even in hell. This vast city, with its bustling Wall Street and flaunting Broadway, is not a mass of unmingled evil. It contains much of the good and the true, though every street and lane teems with vice and suffering. There must ever be distinctions and gradations in society; but the degradation which one often meets with here could |