advantage gained, as it gradually prepares the way for presenting, and pressing serious and solemn considerations, with some hope of success. Your Missionary has witnessed several affecting death-bed scenes. He has heard humbling confessions of guilt, and the vices, and the follies of life deeply deplored. He has seen the confirmed in impenitency and hardness of heart, while in health, tremble and beg for mercy, as the future was opening to their view; but he dare not affirm, he cannot even hope, that the conviction, the alarm, the desires expressed, were the saving operations of the Spirit of God. He may however be deceived. Like the thief on the cross, in the last hour, some, for whom he had but little hope, may have obtained mercy.

These are certainly events of a promising character, and appear well adapted to give strength and permanence to the mission. The Board of Trustees, consisting of seven active individuals belonging to the congregation, though but recently formed, have assumed all the current expenses of the Institution, exclusive of the support of your Missionary, for the present year, and which amount to nearly $160. It is in their heart to do more. Another year they hope to be able to do more; and, Ladies, the time may not be very far distant, when you will be relieved, in part, from the support of a Missionary there, and may, in a great measure, direct your pious charity in aiding the cause of your Lord elsewhere. There is another encouraging circumstance the spiritual sons and daughters, who have been born there, and those who from other Churches have united, are fervent in prayers to their Father and your Father, that he would establish the work of your hands, and give the dominion to his Son. In behalf of that Mission, so long the object of your solicitude and care, your supplications rise not now alone. In the closet, and the places appointed for public and private prayer, the children of our Zion daily pray for her enlargement and prosperity. They remember the sacred cause in which you are engaged, and earnestly entreat that your work of faith and labour of love may not be in vain. And shall it be in vain? Jehovah hears and answers prayer. Though not to the extent you may have desired and hoped, who will say that prayer has not been heard and answered in relation to your mission? The fact, that the torch of an incendiary has not been applied to that buildingthat standing reprover of their sins, which you have erected; the fact, that you have been enabled to cause the banner of righteousness to wave over that dark region of sin and death to the present hour; the fact, that souls have there been converted to God, who are engaged in the same cause as yourselves; the fact, that difficulties are removing, and that the foundation is, we trust, permanently laid for extended efforts,-who, in view of these things, will say, that God has not heard and answered prayer, and, as seems good in his holy sight, has not established the work of your hands upon you. Notwithstanding the general aspect of the mission is still dark, there are gleams of light reflected, which brighten the prospect and the eye of faith discerns the dawning of that day, when even on Bancker-street, the long desolate, unpitied, and neglected, the Sun of Righteousness shall arise with light and salvation in his beams. In estimating the amount of good, Ladies, which you have been privileged to do, you are not simply to regard what appears among us. It is well known, that both before and since the Church was formed, there have persons united with other Churches, whose first serious and fixed VOL. VIII.

24

impressions were received in the Mission House. May we not presume there are some, perhaps many, not known to us, whose case is similar. In different and in distant places, there may be those now rejoicing in hope, who in that house of the Lord were first convicted of their sin, and guilt, and danger. As evidence of this, permit the following facts to be stated. A respected lady of this Society, returning in the steam-boat from the Eastward, observed a fellow passenger to manifest more than usual seriousness. Entering into conversation, and inquiring into the origin of his serious impressions,-" At the Mission House in Bancker-street," was the reply. The Rev. Brother, whose unchanged regard for your mission is evinced by his never-failing attendance on your meetings, quarterly and annually, states the fact of a person, who, having applied to be received into the communion of his Church, in relating his experience, referred to the Mission House as the place where convictions had been first fixed on his mind. And more recent still a sister of the mission church, after a considerable lapse of time, having met with a young acquaintance, whose appearance and conversation were different from that gayety and thoughtlessness before manifested, learned from her, that she was now a member of a church in this city, and that her first impressions were received in a little church in Bancker-street.

In closing this Report, already too protracted, your missionary cannot refrain from quoting, with unqualified approbation, a sentiment advanced by a reverend gentleman, in an eloquent address to the mission family, who last left this city for the wilderness. Alluding to the difficulties which might assail them, perhaps death often: "But what are all the trials you can endure, if only one immortal soul is, as the fruit of your mission, plucked as a brand out of the fire ?" Noble declaration! The combined efforts and hardships of a world, to secure a result like this, would not be too great. But, Ladies, if it be so in respect of the salvation of a savage, who has never heard of a Saviour, nor rejected the peace which his gospel profers, how much more so in respect of those, in a Christian city, by a comparison with whom even many savages would be injured? of those who trample under foot a Saviour's blood, counting it an unholy thing? What an aggravated condemnation awaits them! How deep the damnation of hell, into which that despised blood will sink them, if despised to the last! O! if one soul could be plucked as a brand out of the fire! Ladies, there has. It is but last week, that a sister of the church was heard to bless God for the Bancker-street mission, declaring that, had it not been for that, she would now, as formerly, be posting down the broad road to everlasting perdition. Souls, through your exertions, have been plucked as brands out of the fire. But there are hundreds and thousands of souls still exposed, still perishing, and fitting themselves for the flame of divine wrath!Cannot some of these be plucked as brands out of the fire? Will not God grant so gracious a reward to faithful, and prayerful, and persevering endeavours? May not such a glorious issue be anticipated? Shall such an object, and such an anticipation, be disregarded? Shall the hearts, which have so long felt for the wretchedness of that debased and guilty people, cease to be moved with compassion? Shall the hand you have hitherto stretched out to save them, if possible, from plunging into remediless ruin, be still extended, or will you turn away, and let them sink-irrecoverably sink?

New-York, 6th June, 1821.

WM. GRAY.

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.

From the Sailor's Magazine.

THE CABIN BOY.--BOB.

A FEW months since a vessel sailed from England with a captain whose habitual blasphemy, drunkenness, and tyranny, so disgusted the crew, that some of the most fatal consequences might have taken place, but for the sudden and alarming illness of their cruel and depraved commander. The mate took charge of the ship, and the captain, greatly afflicted in his cabin, was left, by the unanimous voice of a hardened crew, to perish. He had continued nearly a week in this neglected state, no one venturing to visit him, when the heart of a poor boy on board was touched with the sufferings of this wicked man, and he determined, notwithstanding the opposition of the crew, to enter the cabin and speak to the captain. He descended the companion ladder, and opening the state-room door, called out, "Captain, how are you?" A surly voice replied, "What's that to you? be off." Thus repulsed, the boy went on deck; but next morning he determined to make another attempt, and at the state-room door cried, " Captain, hope you are better." "O Bob, I'm very bad, been very ill all night." The boy, encouraged with this mild answer, drew nigh the bed-place, and said, "Captain, please to let me wash your hands and face, it will refresh you very much." The captain nodded assent. Having performed this kind office, the boy said, "Please, master, let me shave you." He was permitted to do this also, and having adjusted the bed-clothes, he grew bolder, and proposed some tea." The captain had been a desperate and wicked man beyond many, and as he knew he had no mercy to expect from his crew, so he was determined not to solicit any. "I'll perish," said his obstinate perverse soul," rather than ask one favour of them;" but the unsolicited and undeserved kindness of this poor boy, found its way to the heart of this violent man, and, in spite of all his daring independent spirit, his bowels melted, and his iron face displayed the starting tear, while his soul involuntarily sighed, O brotherly kindness, in the hour of need, though issuing from a stripling, how amiable thou art! How many ways the Almighty has of gaining access to the hearts of his stubborn and rebellious creatures! A little captive maid directs the leprous Naaman, and a menial servant mildly subdues the haughty general into compliance with the prophet's orders. See II Kings, chap. v. The captain soon felt the good effects of the boy's attendance, and therefore permitted him to do what he pleased in future, for the alleviation of his pains, or the restoration of his health. The captain now declined apace: his weakness was daily increasing, and he became gradually convinced that he should not live many weeks at farthest. His mind was filled with increasing terror, as the prospect of death and eternity drew nearer to his confused and agitated view. He was as ignorant as he was wicked.

Brought up among the worst of seamen in his early life, he had imbibed all their principles, followed their practices, and despised remonstrance or reproof. A man-of-war had finished his education, and a long course of successful voyages as master of a vessel, had contributed to harden his heart, and not only to say there is no God, but to act under that persuasion. Alarmed at the idea of death, and ignorant of the way of salvation, with a conscience now thundering conviction to his guilty soul, he cried one morning, just as Bob opened the state-room door, and affectionately inquired, "Well, master how is it with you this morning ?" "Ah, Bob, I'm very bad; my body is getting worse and worse, but I should not mind that so much, were it not for my soul. O Bob, what shall I do? I'm a great sinner, I'm afraid I shall go to hell, I deserve it. Alas, Bob, I'm a lost man." "Oh no, master," said the boy, "don't be alarmed. God is merciful, and I'm sure you'll not be lost. He knows what sailors are, and I dare say he'll save you." "No, Bob, no, I cannot see the least prospect of being saved. O what a sinner I have been, what will become of me!" His stony heart was broken, and he poured out his complaints before the boy, who strove all he could to comfort him, but in vain.

One morning the boy just appeared, when the Captain sung out, "O Bob, I've been thinking of a Bible. I know there is not one in the cabin, go forward, and see is you can find one in the men's chests." The boy succeeded, and the poor dying man beheld him enter with tears of joy. "Ah, Bob, that will do, that will do; you must read to me, and I shall soon know whether such a wicked man as I am can be saved, and how it is to be done. Now, Bob, sit down on my chest, and read to me out. of that blessed Book." "Where shall I read, master ?" "I do not know, Bob, I never knew how to read myself; but try and pick out some places that speak about Sinners and Salvation." "Well, master, then I'll take the New Testament; you and I shall understand it better, for, as my poor mother used to say, there are not so many hard words there." The boy read for two hours, while the Captain, stretching his neck over the side of the bed-place, listened with the eagerness of a man on the verge of eternity. Every word conveyed light to his mind, and his astonished soul soon beheld sin as he had never seen it before. The justice of God in his eternal rum, struck him with amazing force, and though he heard of a Saviour, still the great difficulty of knowing how he could be saved, appeared a mystery unfathomable. He had been ruminating a great part of the night on some passages Bob had read, but they only served to depress his spirits, and terrify his soul. The next morning, when the boy entered the state-room, he exclaimed, “O Bob, I shall never live to reach the land, I am dying very fast; you'll soon have to cast me overboard, but all this is nothing-my soul, my poor soul. Ah, Bob, my dear lad, what will become of my soul! O I shall be lost for ever." "No no, master, don't be alarmed. I believe you will be saved yet; remember I read many fine things yesterday about Salvation." 66 Bob, can you pray?" "No, master, I never prayed in my life, any more than say the Lord's Prayer my mother taught me." "O Bob, pray for me; go down on your knees, and cry for mercy; do, Bob, there's a good lad. God will bless you for it. O kneel down and pray for your poor wicked captain." The boy hesitated, the master urged, the lad wept, the master groaned, "God, be merciful to me a

sinner." Both cried greatly. "O Bob, for God's sake, kneel down and pray for me." Overcome by importunity and compassion, the boy fell on his knees, and with heavy sobs cried out, "Lord, have mercy on my poor dying Captain. O Lord, I'm a poor, ignorant, wicked sailor-boy. Lord, I don't know what to say. Lord, the captain says I must pray for him, but I don't know how-I am but a child. I should be glad to get him tea, or do any thing I can for him; but, Lord, I don't know how to pray for him. Lord, have mercy on him. He says he shall be lost, Lord, save him! He says he shall go to hell, Lord, take him to heaven. He says, he shall be with devils, O that he may be with angels. Don't let him perish, O Lord. Thou knowest I love him, and am sorry he's so ill. The men won't come near him, but I'll do the best I can for him as long as he lives, but I can't save him. O Lord, pity my poor captain; see how thin and how weak he is! O comfort his troubled mind. Lord, I never prayed before like this. O help me, Lord, to pray for my master." Rising from his knees, he said, “There master, I have done the best I could for you. Now cheer up; I think you'll go to heaven.” The captain was too much affected to speak; the simplicity, sincerity, and humility of the lad's prayer, had so much impressed his mind, that he lay groaning inwardly with spiritual anguish, and wetting his couch with his tears. Bob retired on deck, for the scene had quite overcome him. In the evening, he again read the Bible to the captain, whose soul appeared to receive every word with indescribable eagerness. The next morning, on entering the state-room, the boy was struck with the extraordinary change visible in his master's features. That gloomy horror, which had so long added to the natural ferocity of his weather-beaten countenance, was fled, and while his affliction had softened and more fully exhibited the various parts of his countenance, the circumstances of the past night had settled the whole arrangement of his features into a holy, pleasant, calm, and resigned state, that would seem to say,

And heir of grace can find
Glory begun below.

Bob had scarcely time to notice, with a smile of congratulation, this pleasing change, when the master, in a low tone of voice, but with great humility, began, " O Bob, my dear lad, I have had such a night! After you left me I fell into a sort of doze-my mind was full of the many blessed things you had been reading to me from the precious Bible; all on a sudden I thought I saw in that corner of my bed-place Jesus Christ hanging bleeding on his cross. Struck with the sight, I arose and crawled to the place, and casting myself at his feet in the greatest agony of soul, I cried out for a long time, like the blind man you read of; Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me. At length I thought he looked at me-yes, my dear lad, he looked at your poor wicked captain—and, O Bob, what a look it was--I shall never forget it-my blood rushed to my heart-my pulse beat high-my soul thrilled with agitation, and waiting for him to speak, with fear not unmixed with hope, I saw him smile. O, my child, I saw him smile—yes, and he smiled on me-on me, Bob. O, my my dear boy, he smiled on wretched guilty me. Ah, what did I feel at that moment! my heart was too full to speak: but I waited, and ventured to look up, when I heard him say, hanging as he did on the cross, the blood streaming from his hands, and feet, and side.