energies. The next man to cross took her in his arms, and committed himself, thus burdened, to the rope; but that proved unequal to the increased strain, and neither of them reached the shore. The breaking of the rope deprived those who were left of all hope. In vain their friends on shore tied every available shred together to make a line; in vain they sought the nearest inhabitants for help; before they could return to the beach the waves rolled over the last refuge of Captain Baker and the remnant of his noble crew. Single individuals have before and since displayed similar generosity and heroism; but, perhaps, no body of men can be pointed out who have done greater honor to the name of seamen, or who have evinced more calmness, intrepidity, and self-devotion than the crew of his Majesty's brig Drake. In those cases which we have mentioned we have seen men in a common danger disregarding themselves for the sake of their companions; it remains for us to give an instance of one, who was himself in safety, voluntarily risking his life to save those of his fellow-creatures. We shall select an incident in the life of Sir Edward Pellew-afterward Lord Exmouth when in command of the Indefatigable, which not only shows generosity and humanity, almost unparalleled, but is also calculated to teach us of how much value is the influence of a single decided and well-ordered mind in circumstances of danger and confusion. In January, 1796, when the Indefatigable was lying in Hamoaze, the Dutton, large East Indiaman, with part of the second regiment and many sick on board, was driven into Plymouth by stress of weather; and, in consequence of a buoy having broken adrift, came ashore under the citadel. Sir Edward, accompanied by Lady Pellew, was on his way to dine with Dr. Hawker, the excellent vicar of Charles, when he noticed the crowds running to the Hoe; and, having learned the cause, he sprang out of the carriage and ran off with the rest. Arrived at the beach, he saw at once that the loss of nearly all on board, amounting to between five and six hundred, was almost inevitable. The captain had left the ship, on account of indisposition, the previous day; but the officers who were on board had succeeded in getting a hawser to the shore, by which some of the people had landed. This, however, was a slow and dangerous operation; for the rolling of the vessel as she lay broadside on in the surf, would sometimes jerk the rope high in the air, and then bury it beneath the waves. Every minute was of consequence, for night was approaching, and the wreck fast breaking up. Sir Edward was anxious to send a message to the officers, and offered rewards to pilots and others on the beach to board the wreck; but when every one shrank from so dangerous a service, he exclaimed, “Then I will go myself." Availing himself of the hawser which communicated with the ship, he was hauled on board through the surf. The danger was greatly increased by the wreck of the masts, which had fallen toward the shore; and he received an injury on the back, which confined him to his bed for a week, in consequence of being dragged under the mainmast. But disregarding this at the time, he reached the deck, declared himself, and assumed the command. He assured the people that every one would be saved if they attended quietly to his directions; that he would himself be the last to quit the wreck, but that he would run any one through who disobeyed him. His wellknown name, with the calmness and energy he displayed, gave confidence to the despairing multitude. He was received with three hearty cheers, which were echoed by the thousands on shore; and his promptitude at resource soon enabled him to find and apply the means by which all might be safely landed. The officers of the Indefatigable were in the mean time exerting themselves to bring assistance, although not aware of the position of their Captain. Lieutenant Pellowe left the ship in the barge, and Mr. Thompson, acting master, in the launch; but the boats could not be brought along side the wreck, and were obliged to run for the Barbican. A small boat belonging to a merchant vessel was more fortunate. Mr. Edsell, signal midshipman to the Port Admiral, and Mr. Coghlan, mate of the vessel, succeeded, at the risk of their lives, in bringing her along side. The ends of two additional hawsers were got on shore, and Sir Edward contrived cradles to be slung upon them, with traveling ropes to pass forward and backward between the ship and the beach. Each hawser was held on shore by a number of men, who watched the rolling of the ship and kept the ropes tight and steady. Meanwhile, a cutter had with great difficulty worked out of Plymouth port, and two large boats arrived from the Dockyard under the directions of Mr. Hemmings, the master-attendant, by whose caution and judgment they were enabled to approach the wreck, and receive the more helpless of the passengers, who were carried to the cutter. Sir Edward, with his sword drawn, directed the proceedings, and preserved order—a task the more difficult, as the soldiers before he came on board had got at the spirits and many were drunk. The children, the women, and the sick were first landed. One of them was only three weeks old, and nothing in the whole transaction impressed Sir Edward more strongly than the struggle of the mother's feelings before she would intrust her infant to his care, or afforded him more pleasure than the success of his attempt to save it. Next the soldiers were got on shore, and then the ship's company, Sir Edward himself being one of the last to leave. Every one was saved, and presently after the wreck went to pieces.-Excelsior. MISSIONARY SEWING SOCIETIES. IN BY REV. L. A. EDDY. He observed that at a missionary meeting in his congregation among the contributors a youth of sixteen years came forward to enroll his name. When requested to state how much he wished to subscribe, he replied, with some diffidence, "Myself." He was the eldest son of an unfortunate widow, to whom seven other children looked for support. The proffer of the young man could not be received without the mother's consent. It was scarcely to be expected that her eldest son would be yielded up for the missionary service, when his exertions might soon prove useful to his widowed parent in her indigent circumstances. "Let him go," was the prompt response of the devoted mother; "God will provide for me and my babes; and who am I that I should be thus honored to have a son a missionary to the heathen!" In the prize essay of Mr. Harris on missions, it is further stated that this son, after laboring a short time in India, died, when the second son felt it his duty to walk in the footsteps of his brother. This was a new trial of the mother's faith and zeal; but her ready reply was, "Let William follow Joseph, though it be to India and an early grave.” N the glorious revival of interest in the cause of missions within the last quarter of a century, it is not easy to estimate the indebtedness of the Church to female influence. Not only in this country, but every-where in Christendom, it is, and has long been observable, that when a missionary meeting is called woman is the first to respond to that call. When money is needed for such purposes, it is woman that is most ready to lay aside her domestic cares, forego her personal interests, and visit from house to house to collect funds. When needle or other work is called for to meet a special emergency, no obstacle not absolutely insuperable is sufficient to prevent her from promptly supplying the demand. More thrilling examples of moral heroism in the enterprise of missions are recorded of devoted females than of the other sex. Much has been said in praise of the Spartan mother, who, buckling the war armor on her son, charged him as he started for the battle-field "either to bring back his shield, or be brought back upon it;" but how much more noble and morally sublime was the answer of the widowed mother of the missionary Lyman, when the dreadful intelligence reached her that her son had been most cruelly murdered and eaten by the cannibal Battas: "I bless God who gave me such a son to go to the heathen; and I never felt so strongly as I do at this moment the desire that others of my sons may become missionaries also, and may go and preach salvation to those savage men who have drank the blood of my son!" Search the history of missions since the days of the apostles, and you will doubtless look in vain for a more illustrious example of devotion to this cause than that related by Rev. J. A. James. It is, indeed, fitting that woman should excel in efforts for the propagation of Christianity. Not only is she naturally endowed with a more sympathizing heart, and susceptible of more tender regard for the wants and woes of others, but, if possible, she owes more to Christianity than the other sex; and, hence, it is not strange that her love for that religion which has done so much for females should be stronger. She is not ignorant of the fact that every-where Pagan habitations are emphatically habitations of cruelty to woman. She knows that in uncivilized countries the depth of female degradation, and the intensity of her sufferings from lordly tyranny, and the prejudices and customs of societies, are in proportion to the density of Pagan darkness; and that in more enlightened lands woman is appreciated, and her God-given rights and position in society are recognized, just in proportion to the abundance and brilliancy of Gospel light diffused through that community. It is not, however, merely for the elevation and moral improvement of her own sex that woman toils in the work of evangelism. But disdaining all mere selfish or sexual considerations, she manifests her gratitude for what the Gospel has done for her by untiring zeal, and by taxing her ingenuity to aid in the enlightenment and salvation of all sorts and conditions of men. And among the measures devised to ameliorate the condition of the degraded and unfortunate, it is not possible to estimate fully the value of those humble instrumentalities called "sewing societies." In calling attention briefly to the utility of these industrial associations, I am aware that doubts have repeatedly been expressed of their usefulness. Perhaps these doubts have in part arisen from occasional abuses of similar gatherings. It must, indeed, be admitted that unless the object aimed at in such efforts be in itself praiseworthy and important, unless the religious element deeply pervade the meetings, unless simplicity and economy be exhibited in the arrangements for the entertainment of the company, and vigilance be observed to prevent the intrusion of unprofitable conversation, such meetings, instead of being beneficial, will be productive of positive mischief. In glancing at a few of the benefits of sewing societies, I mention, first, an advantage common to all benevolent associations; namely, that arising from a concentration of individual influence in a given direction. If the homely maxim, "Two heads are better than one," is true, it is still more obvious that the union of twenty or thirty heads is better than two. As the collision of different sentiments often strike out sparks of truth, so the mutual interchange of thought and outgushing of sympathy in behalf of any noble enterprise enlarges our conception of such labor of love, and inflames our zeal in its prosecution. It is in accordance with this law of the human mind that deliberative assemblies have from time immemorial been instituted; that social worship was divinely established; and those who fear the Lord are taught to speak often one to another. Indeed, the question admits of no dispute whether twenty ladies, however benevolently disposed, acting utterly independently of each other, would be likely to hit upon as sagacious plans, and produce in the course of the year an aggregate of means to bless the needy, equal to the benefactions of the same number accustomed to meet often together for mutual counsel and encouragement. luxury of giving is placed within the reach of the poor as well as the rich; and if the reward of beneficence is in proportion not to the intrinsic value of the gift, but the personal sacrifice incurred by the donor, no class of persons experience more glorious proof of the truth of the saying, “It is more blessed to give than to receive," than earnest workers in these sewing societies. By these associations multitudes of sufferers have been supplied with food, and raiment, and the bread of eternal life, that otherwise would have perished. Whole neighborhoods of misery and crime have been transformed into communities of comfort and abodes of peace; and many an indigent young man, battling unsuccessfully with poverty in preparing for the ministry, has triumphed over every obstacle, and become a burning and shining light in the world, by the timely aid of a humble band of female disciples with their needles. In numerous instances, also, embarrassed Churches have been relieved, and a blessed career of prosperity secured, which church, to the disgrace of religion and the triumph of malignant spirits, would have been utterly abandoned, but for the indomitable zeal of angels of mercy, who, with no other lever than the needle, lifted them from the slough of bankruptcy and ruin. Thirdly. The reflex benefits of these societies upon their own membership and the community should be especially noted. I do not refer now particularly to their obvious tendency to repress narrow and selfish feelings, and arouse and keep alive a spirit of enlarged philanthropy, but to their manifest tendency to promote Christian union in the neighborhood where they are in operation-to extend Christian sympathy and influence in irreligious families. Nor is this all. As the rich and poor here meet on a common level, and freely converse and labor together, the effect is to subdue any predisposition to aristocratic ambition on the one hand, and cure all morbid inclinations to the indulgence of an envious spirit on the other. Happy, indeed, is that Secondly. Valuable pecuniary results are often neighborhood where all the professed disciples reached by these organizations that could not of Christ, whether learned or illiterate, rich or otherwise be realized. There are many ladies poor, often associate together on terms of Chriswho can spend an afternoon each week or fort- tian equality to promote a common object; where night in needle-work, the net value of which will factitious distinctions are unknown, and not the be at least three dollars per annum, but who slightest indication can be detected either of overcould do little or nothing unless their labor is bearing pride or green-eyed jealousy. I admit made available. Thus thousands of dollars, or that if the disposition exist, it is not impossible their equivalent, are annually realized as the to keep up a spirit of caste and favoritism even aggregate fruit of such humble and unostenta-in such gatherings. By taking some pains, "birds tious combinations of industry. Thus, also, the of a feather may flock together" even here, and whisper exclusively with the few instead of striving to be agreeable and useful to the many; but such conduct is so sadly at variance with the common rules of decency, to say nothing of Christian courtesy, that it is hoped there are very few places where a word of caution on this point is necessary. It should not be forgotten, that to obtain all the benefits from these circles of industry, it is particularly advisabie to include the young as well as elderly ladies. Indeed, a sewing society convened without the enlivening presence of youthful females is considered almost as defective in moral beauty as a domestic circle in which prattling infants have no place. The young should participate in these labors of love, not only in view of the importance of forming early habits of systematic beneficence, avoiding improper associations, and giving their attention to less laudable pursuits, but in view also of the influence exerted by this class of laborers upon every other department of society. Who has not observed that in whatever enterprise young ladies are heartily enlisted is seldom viewed with indifference by the aged, and never by young men? Hence, that pastor is to be pitied for his stupidity who has not learned that one valuable secret of ministerial success is the securance, by laudable means, of the hearty co-operation of this class of his parishioners. Woe to the clergyman who once gets the ill-will of the intelligent and enterprising young ladies of his congregation! When he has rendered himself unacceptable to this class, he has, in most cases, closed the avenue to all hearts; and there is no alternative but to ask for a dismissal, take up his staff, and start off on a candidating itinerancy. In fine, such organizations are of special utility in a community, as they serve to draw the attention of every class to the great truths which many in this mammon-worshiping age are apt to forget, that "no man liveth to himself," and that in proportion as the claims of God's poor are met by liberal efforts for their relief, in the same proportion-nay, in a hundred-fold greater proportion are blessings returned to the donor from Him who has declared that even a cup of cold water imparted to the needy shall not pass unnoticed or unrewarded. That "God takes care of those who care for his suffering poor," is proven not only by the numerous promises made in behalf of those who honor God with their substance, and the natural tendency of benevolent habits to secure home prosperity in general, but by the obvious practical influence of a wellorganized, intelligent, and large-hearted system of public beneficence upon the immediate community in which such plan is carried out. Allow me, in conclusion, to remark, that the above thoughts owe their origin to a deeply interesting gathering last summer which I had the privilege of attending, about two miles south of the village of Cazenovia, N. Y. It was a general meeting, in a beautiful orchard, of the sewing societies of Cazenovia station for social intercourse and religious improvement. Two large tents had been erected-one of which was fitted up for a temporary chapel, and the other as a dining-hall. As the different sewing circles, though living in separate neighborhoods, had been laboring chiefly for a common object—“ The Five Points Mission"—it was thought peculiarly fitting, with their companions and children, to hold a general festival, and thus celebrate the anniversary of our national independence. Appropriate addresses were delivered by four ministers, when the company, consisting of nearly two hundred persons, partook of a bountiful repast provided by the society in the immediate vicinity of this little camp meeting. The company then returned to the chapel tent, and the whole was closed by a very delightful and profitable love-feast and prayer meeting. APRIL. BY MRS. M. C. BOWMAN. HAIL, thrice hail, to joyous April! And the lawns in robes of green, See the peach's rosy blossom And the plum with petals white, Twining wreaths to grace thy bosom, Showing forth their glad delight: All performing pleasant duties Flowers sweet, in varied tints, But infant buds, now young and tender, GHOST STORIES. BY ALICE CARY. NUMBER III. all the delusions that cheat us out of happiness, a good time, placed by many persons in some indefinite period of the future, is the most delusive of all. Aside from the terrible necessities of pain and death, to which we are every moment alike liable, all times shape themselves to our actions, and that is the best time which is consecrated to good thoughts, or words, or works. The habit of sacrificing daily the pleasant things in our reach, or of pushing them from us into the dark, in the hope that some future daybreak will shine upon them, is a great and fatal mistake. The happiness so put away will never return to us with the freshness and beauty that charmed us at the first; but if by chance it drift across our way again, we shall find it battered and worn, as it were; but likeliest we shall never see it any more; under some black cloud, and beneath some sudden wave it will have found shipwreck in the great waste to which we have trusted it-the gray surges will have run together where it went down, and our searches for what was a reality will be a season of heaviness and mourning, which we might well have spared ourselves. But even if we should, as is sometimes the case, meet again the joys that we have sailed away from with determinedness to add thereby to some future enjoyment, it would be as though men and women should have their dolls, and kites, and marbles given back into their hands. The corner-stone will not fit in the capital, and the sill will make but a clumsy rafter. Just as truly as there is a time for every thing, so surely is there a thing for every time, and the thing for one time can be but illy jointed to another time. Childhood has its idle hands, its freedom from care, its improvidence, its sleep, and its laughter; youth has its light work, its pretty dalliance with hope, its eager zest of pleasure, its love, and its crown of love-marriage; maturer life has its more earnest quest of knowledge, its more solid achievement, and its more solemn joy; age its resting from labor, its farther-reaching vision, and its more steadfast faith, and in their time all these provisions are beautiful. Let the prattle of little children gladden the heart of the old man as he sits with his eyes fixed on the land he expects erelong to make, and let the young men and young women, for whom he has toiled, work for him in turn, nor seek to displace the baby glee with the temperate enjoyments or the soberer serenity of riper years-all are beautiful in their time. I do not mean to commend greediness, but a sensible and wise appropriation of the good gifts of God is, I believe, acceptable to him; for has he not made them and given them for our use? The story I have to tell seems to me to illustrate this procrastination of enjoyment. About a year ago, as I was going through one of the New York markets, my attention was attracted by the pleasant countenance and tidy appearance of an old woman who kept a little stall outside the market-house. Her clean apron and cheerful face led me to examine her store of vegetables, which I found nicely prepared and of the best quality; and on making some purchases I found that for the same articles she demanded less than her neighbors. But over and above the pleasant face and the moderate prices demanded, there was an agreeable impression left on my mind for which I could not account. The next market day I found her again, and the next again. So, by degrees, we formed a kind of market acquaintance, alike advantageous and agreeable. She supplied me with all necessities in her line, and I never found reason to regret any purchase I made of her. Some part of the best of whatever she sold, cabbage or strawberries, potatoes or beans, she invariably reserved for herself and her boy, Frederick, who carried home for her customers whatever they bought of her. An intelligent, black-eyed little fellow was Frederick, performing with cheerful alacrity his various duties, and finding always some bright spot in every thing. He in no way resembled his mother, as I supposed the pleasant market-woman to be, both from the fact that he was always with her, and from her invariable gentleness toward him. One day when he had an extra large basket to carry home for me I gave him an extra sixpence, and the sunshine that laughed in his face contrasted unusually with the staid serenity of the woman; and on remarking it, she told me he was not her child, nor in any way related to her; that they had chanced to fall in with one another in the journey of life, and should probably continue together as long as they lived. But I need not detail all the particulars of our ripening acquaintance; suffice that I came to know the name of the market-woman, which was Peggy Butler; that she lived in rooms in street, with the boy Fred as her housemate and helpmate; that she had never been married-had no wealth but her health and industry, and no |