Job did not expect deliverance on earth; but he rejoiced in hope of life eternal. God, however, having enabled him to show the sweet power of religion in trouble, restored his health and his friends, as a lesson to all generations. "And the LORD blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning; for he had fourteen thousand sheep, and six thousand camels, and a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand she asses. He had also seven sons and three daughters. And in all the land were no women found so fair as the daughters of Job, and their father gave them inheritance among their brethren."-xlii, 10-15.

VISIT TO THE SAILORS' CHURCH.

MR. EDITOR,-On Sunday, the 14th of this month, (May), I visited your Sailors' Church, Wellclosesquare, London. I attended all the three services, when Rev. Mr. Timpson preached; and, after the sermon in the afternoon, he administered the Lord's supper. I was both surprised and delighted at seeing so many hardy-looking mariners seriously attentive at all the sermons.

They were evidently of different nations, "British and Foreign." Some of them were quite jet black men, even their lips and eyes; others were tawny, brown, or mulatto, but most of them were white in their complexion, indicating, I suppose, their being English, Scotch, or Americans.

I entered into conversation with two of them, with the blackest skins, one of whom told me he was a native of the West Indies, and the other a native of Baltimore, in America. I could not

say much to them; but, from what I could learn, I was led to hope that they were "Bethel sailors." I should think they both love the Bible; and I hope they believe in and love the blessed Saviour.

But what interested me most was the sight of one of the communicants at the Lord's supper-a young sailor, who seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen years of age. 'I could not but feel concerned to learn some particulars of his history. This, however, I was not able to do, as he went out of the church before I could reach him. I followed him in thought and prayer, supposing that he might be the son of pious parents, perhaps of a praying mother, and she a widow. He might also have been taught in a Sunday school, and now the prayers of parents and teachers were answered. I thought, probably, he had heard the Gospel under the Bethel flag, to his soul's conversion, by the grace of the Spirit of God. I prayed that he might be led to carry the same Bethel standard to many foreign ports, and so become a valiant captain and leader among his brethren of the ocean; to be a useful preacher of the Gospel to mariners, and the means of converting many souls to the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ for their eternal salvation. OBSERVER.

THE GOOD OLD TIMES.-"1535-Paid 14s. 8d., the expense of bringing a heretic from London, and for one and half load of wood to burn him, 2s.; for gunpowder, 1d.; a stake and staple, 8d." -Records of the Corporation of Canterbury.

THE SHIP'S RETURN.

In our provincial ports, especially Hull, so largely engaged in the whale fishery, the arrival of a ship from the South Atlantic or Pacific Oceans, or Greenland, is an event of the most exciting character, giving rise to scenes of thrilling interest. Sometimes it happens that a ship arrives that had been detained in the ice all the winter, or that had not been heard of for many months; and of course the anxiety of interested persons is intense, to ascertain the success of the voyage, and if all her crew have returned in safety. The following verses, descriptive of such events, have been written by a young lady who is able to enter into the case with the heart of a Christian as well as the genius of a poet.

The Spring, the quickening Spring's sweet voice
Runs whispering o'er the ground;

Streams gushing from their chains rejoice,
Young buds breathe sweetness round.
Why pace those groups the sunny shore?
Why climb yon hill-top o'er and o'er?
What wanderers on the dark blue main
Will Spring's soft breath bring back again?
They linger on the beach,-they gaze
And sigh, as at their feet

The breaking billow moans and plays,
Half sorrowful, half sweet.

A speck appears;

"A sail! a sail !

Swelling before the landward gale!

She's large; how high that mast ascends!
A ship! a ship! our friends! our friends!"

Strain every eye; look long, look far.
She comes, deep laden, low;

The first full ship-the morning star-
Why move her wings so slow?

Hearts rise, hearts sink-'tis hope, 'tis fear;
The joyous shout, the trembling tear;
What hath time done on sea or shore?
Will all that parted meet no more?

Her cannons speak, her streamers swell,
Abroad her signals fly;

"All's well!—she's standing in! - All's well!"' A hundred voices cry.

How bold, how giant-like her state!
That deep-sunk keel bears costly freight;
Those thunders quick and loud declare
Success and health find quarters there.

They land, and meet the long warm clasp
Of friendship's welcome hand:
The loud acclaim, the hearty grasp
Of hundreds on the strand;
The bursting questions and replies,
Half said, half answered; tears and cries;
The rush for home, the long embrace-
Oh, who such glowing scenes can trace?

Another sail! No cannon roars,

No pendants strike the air;

How hushed, how sad she nears the shores;
Death's angel has been there.

Boats float around -no shouts are heard,
No echoes with rejoicing stirred.
That low flag casts a gloomy shade,

O'er decks where death his pall hath laid.

A mother watched the treacherous main,
Long for that ship's return;

A maiden's heart is rent in twain,
The dismal truth to learn:

Oft on the star-light beach she strayed,
And for the wandering seaman prayed;
Or chid the winds and waves that brought
No tidings of the friend she sought.

Vain was the maid's or mother's tear
His lot was bold and brief;

His comrades land and give no cheer,
For they have lost their chief.

Thus sounds of mirth and sounds of woe,
From heart to heart together flow;
And boundless joy, and anguish stern,
Are mingled when the ships return.

Yet still to Thee our souls we raise,
O Lord of land and sea!

In bliss or woe, the wings of praise
Shall still mount up to thee.
The wife's glad smile, the mother's tear,
The funeral wail, the welcome cheer,
All rising from the heart's bright urn,
Shall praise Thee for the ship's return.

A WISH, AND A WORD OF INSTRUCTION.

DEAR young readers, we wish you much happiness-sounds sweetly harmonious! Angels catch the echo. Heaven's arches ring! Happiness, what is it? Who are the happy? Was Cain happy, when the voice of his brother's blood cried for vengeance from the ground? Was the incorrigible Pharaoh a happy man? Were proud Korah and his troop happy? Was Achan happy, "the troubler of Israel," who hid the golden wedge of fifty shekels' weight? Was the wicked Ahab happy, the lewd Jezebel, the bloody Manasseh? Was the great king Belshazzar happy, when he saw the handwriting on the wall, "Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin ?" when, thunderstruck, his eyes rolled horribly

"Thrice he essayed to speak,

And thrice his tongue refused?"