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The wrecks are all thy deed-nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own;
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

"Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests!-in all time,
Calm or convuls'd, in breeze or gale or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark heaving-boundless, endless, and sublime!
The image of Eternity!-the throne

Of the Invisible! Even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made! Each zone Obeys thee! Thou goest forth dread, fathomless, alone!"

But, a little while, and all is calm again. Soon are the winds subdued, and the dread convulsion finished. All that threatened is removed, and again there is the gentle steady gale, and the serene cloudless sky, and the little beaming curling wave.

...And let us just go on to give an example or two of the lessons that are taught, of the instruction which we may draw, from what we have attempted to describe. Is not the picture at sea, just the picture of human life in general? The bright sun rising, and soon setting again, shews

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man how he also enters on the morning of life, and reminds him of the short course he has to run; and the tinted evanescent horizon, is a beautiful emblem of his transient fast-fading joys. Like the favourable gale, which steadily and quietly drives the ship on her course,-like the serene prospect all around, which gives such hope and peace to the mariner's breast,-and the tempest coming suddenly, and threatening to destroy, are all the affairs of humanity. Man, though he may travel for a time in the road of prosperity, can never make sure of continuing in it through the whole of life's journey. However promising and settled-like his prospects, he is never secure against the inroads of adversity. And just at the moment when the pulse of hope beats highest,—just when he thinks himself most safe, and hardly fears a single danger,-the sunshine of his prosperity is dimned, and, by circumstances which he cannot control, he sees his surest and most pleasing hopes ready to be overturned. And thus are we taught never to build too high,-not to think ourselves altogether

secure in any situation. But, again, like the storm-beaten mariner, just as he may be losing hope, and giving up all for lost,-just as he is beginning to think the gloom of adversity has thickened too much ever to be dispelled, he sees the darkness gradually removed--he sees pros perity again shoot forth her beam,—and again he finds himself in the prosperous course. And thus are we taught, never, in any circumstances, to let ourselves sink with despair, but, steadily to strive, even in the most unpromising case, and look forward to a better day. When we see the mariner guide his frail bark to the remotest corners of the world, and travel the very tract, and hit the very spot, he wishes, though he may never have travelled it before; we are taught how far science has advanced, and how much the ingenuity and industry of man can achieve, and we are stimulated by the noble works of those who have gone before us, not to repose in idleness, but to employ the faculties that have been given us, the talent we possess,—in the purpose of utility. When we see him, on the

approach of the storm, prepare his vessel in such a manner as enables it to ride secure, and gives his bosom peace, in a tempest which we would pronounce as almost certain to ingulph him, we are taught what exertion and proper management will do; we see how much, knowledge and steadiness and perseverance, will aid us, in unpropitious circumstances. When we see the dangerous lightning streaming along, and listen to the loud thunder as it peals, we are led to look up with fear and love to Him who has the lightning and the thunder in his hand, and who, when he wills, can quiet the storm.

Here, too, the feelings of pity are called into play; here the heart that can sympathize, and feel another's woes, finds a subject. When we see the poor seaman, for the safety of the vessel, obliged to expose himself in the very midst of the storm, obliged to get out in the dead of the night, perhaps only half clad, and climb the slippery shrouds, while the rain beats hard upon him, and the bitter blast benumbs and is like to carry him away,-when we see him night after

night wanting his rest, and, perhaps, day after day without his regular food, surely, if there be any sympathy in us at all, it must be exercised here. It is only when we ourselves have witnessed the storm at sea, that we can rightly understand how laborious and disagreeable the life of the sailor often is; how many hardships and dangers he has to contend with. It is only when we have seen him engaged in his severe and perilous work, that we can know how very valuable he is, and how much we ought to prize him for the duty he has to perform, and how necessary it is that for his numerous toils he should

be well rewarded.

Fortunately, even in the situation that we deem most unhappy, the man whose lot it is to be in it, accommodates himself to it, and finds a way of being happy. And the sailor, though we, who are only looking on, may suppose him to be leading a life scarcely worth having, has his happy seasons as well as others. When he has performed his hard duty, if he gets his can of grog, and his hard salt fare, ill as we may think of it,

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