"But Jesus said, Suffer little children,

and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven." -MATT. xix. 14.

Does not our blessed Saviour give us a decided sanction to Infant Baptism here? The Jews, who were soon to be taught that their ceremonial observances would cease, would probably remember, after our Lord's ascension, how plainly he had intimated that the covenant interest and visible church membership of infants should be continued under the Gospel dispensation, and that therefore they ought to be recommended and devoted to him.

"There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us."Ps. iv. 6.

The happiness of the soul must consist in its full enjoyment of its proper object. The Christian has learnt that God may be to his people the supply to all the capacities of their nature. All the enjoyments of life are from the faculties with which he has endowed them, and the objects he has made suitable to them. He may himself be to them infinitely more than these. A subject to their understandings infinite in its extent; and an object for their affections at once both purifying and satisfying.

"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light."-MATT. vi. 22.

Under this physical truth, no doubt our blessed Lord intended to imply that wherever the desire to hnow and do what is right exists, obscurities and impediments will be gradually withdrawn. It has been well said, that "worth and simplicity of heart give a mighty aid even to the investigation of speculative truth-that they infuse, as it were, a clearer element into the region of our intellectual faculties; and that there is a power in moral candour which not only gives more of patience to our researches, but even more of penetration to our discernments."

"Be renewed in the spirit of your mind." -EPHES. iv. 23.

The mind is the common expression of the understanding part of the soul, which is a more refined faculty than that which we call the heart: whereby we fear, love, desire, or hate. Here the Apostle calls it "the spirit of the mind." Had he called it the spirit of the body, we know that the soul is the spirit of the body; "but," the Apostle would say, "it lies deeper than this, it is in the spirit of your mind," in the soul of very your soul; it is the renovation of the Holy Ghost, and lies very deep in the soul, not only in the heart and mind, but in the spirit of the mind. The Christian, in whom the word of Christ " dwells richly," can often point out passages of Scripture which condemn the customs and maxims of the world; but sometimes. he feels a disrelish for what others call pleasure, which can only be accounted for by this deeplywrought, experimental work of the Spirit of God, which must be FELT before it is understood.

"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service."-ROM. xii. 1.

This is suitable to a rational nature, though it find no friendship from the corruptions of reason. It prescribes a service fit for the reasonable faculties of the soul, and advances them whilst it employs them.

"Your life is hid with Christ in God." -COL. iii. 3.

The nature, the strength, and the security of the Christian's life, is to be found" with Christ in God." Is it, then, to be wondered at, that so many cannot understand the object at which he aims, the energy with which he acts, nor the confidence with which he can approach an untried state?

On the evening of the first we were in a state of not very pleasant suspense. The Indus had arrived from Gibraltar with 120 passengers on board; and a number of them crowded our table-d'-hôte dinner, at the Princess Royal hotel, full of commercial news from England, and very anxious to impress us with the impossibility of our finding berths. However, we had not travelled across Europe, from Havre to Naples, without learning that other people's representations were not implicitly to be trusted, especially in matters relating to their own comfort or convenience; and so we determined to wait for the arrival of the overland mail from Marseilles, to ascertain whether she was bringing a sufficient number of Indian passengers to require all the few berths already made vacant by travellers, who were leaving the vessel at Malta. She came into harbour about ten that evening; and my friend immediately hurried off to the Company's office to make enquiries. Unfortunately he found it closed; but at seven in the morning he was off again-(I was myself hardly able to leave the sofa from a severe sprain)—and soon came back with the welcome tickets, and the intelligence that we were to be aboard by nine o'clock. Fortunately our luggage was all ready packed, and we had nothing to do but to swallow a very hasty breakfast-see our luggage safely stowed away in

one

of those extraordinary_twowheeled vehicles which the Maltese dignify with the name of carriagesand pay the bill, which the sagacious landlord took good care to bring at the very last moment, when there was hardly time to read over the items, much less to dispute any one of them. JULY-1849.

A boat took us across the harbour to where the Indus was lying. She was easily discernible by her two white chimneys, and was getting up her steam ready for immediate departure. With some difficulty we made our way up the companion ladder-threaded our path through the mass of portmanteaus, hat-boxes, and carpet bags, which piled up the surface of the lower deck-and emerged, not without losing our way twice, on the quarter deck of this truly noble vessel. Certainly I was never on so large a steamer before; it was quite a walk from one end to the other. The decks were perfectly white and clean, and everything seemed in first-rate order.

The Peninsular and Oriental Company has now quite a navy of steam ships, varying in size and power from 1800 tons, and 450 horse power, to vessels of much less calibre, carrying only the Peninsular mails. When government gave them their charter, the stipulation was made that in time of war ministers should always have the privilege of appropriating these vessels to the public service, paying, of course, a fair rent during the period of possession; and they are built accordingly for carrying heavy guns.

The arrangements of accommodation, &c., in these vessels vary considerably. The Indus was quite on a different plan to the Hindostan, in which we came home. She is built of iron; but she will be the last of that material: the contract for iron vessels has now ceased, and the Company do not intend to have any more built of the same material, as they are not found to answer in hot latitudes.

But my statistics will soon become

U

wearisome; yet I cannot conclude my description of the vessel without explaining that the berths were at the back of the saloon, which was of great length, and contained two long tables stretching down from the top to the bottom. At the top of the room, close to the windows, there was a delicious divan, where the passengers went to sleep, or played at chess, or watched the proceedings below. In the middle of the vessel were the huge engines plying their ceaseless labour; and beyond were all the cabins of the ship's officers, with the rank and occupation of every officer painted over the door. There was the surgeon-here the purser-there the first lieutenant. At the end of the vessel, moreover, was the live stock, which in "perfectly impartial succession" were promoted to the dinner table in the saloon. Chickens cackled-pigs gruntedcows lowed-ducks quacked-sheep bleated-just as they cackle, grunt, low, quack, and bleat in a quiet farm yard in England; and had it not been for the splashing of the paddles, and the heavy periodical thumping of the engines, for a few short moments we might have forgotten that we were far away from dry land, all alone in the midst of ocean. Here, too, were the kitchens, larders, and bakehouse, and great indeed was the confusion at four o'clock. I always wondered how dinner ever came up so clean and so well cooked. Habit, I suppose, at last makes very impossibili

ties easy.

I have been so long in describing the geography of the vessel, that I have quite forgotten that all this time we ought to have been at breakfast, doing justice to our national characteristic of always eating first, and then doing what is to be done afterwards. The meals on the Company's vessels are highly diverting, and must give foreigners an exquisite appreciation of British appetites. At seven o'clock the work of swallowing begins, in the shape of a cup of coffee or tea, and a biscuit. This is supposed to stay the stomach until halfpast eight o'clock, when a gong or trumpet sounds the welcome signal

for breakfast. This is undoubtedly a more substantial affair than the last. Tea, coffee, and chocolate, chops, steaks, kidneys, stews, and even curries, cold meat of all descriptions, countless boiled eggs, hot rolls, brown and white bread, muffins and currant cakes, marmalade and sweetmeats, make the tables groan under their weight. And yet it is wonderful how rapidly all these good things used to disappear. There was a tinge of Americanism in the way in which men "bolted" their meals. The crush down the steps into the saloon when the horn was sounding, (provided the morning was fine, and the sea smooth,) was perfectly tremendous. We never were comfortable in this way on board the Indus. The upper saloon was so full that a lower room, used for the other purposes of bed and dressingrooms, was obliged also to do the work of a breakfast and dining-room. This was by no means pleasant, as the room was never put in order by breakfast time, and as it was never free from a certain stifling closeness, owing to its being under the great saloon, and all the air which came down being second-hand.

The breakfast was only expected to last till twelve o'clock. Then bread and cheese, bottled ale and porter, wines, and, I am sorry to add, spirits, were placed on the table for such as wanted them. At four was dinner; and, to give some idea of our entertainment, I will copy here a bill of fare, which I abstracted one day from the dinner table: "Gravy soup, corned pork, peas pudding, stewed brisket beef, knuckle veal, boiled fowls, rabbits and onions, neck mutton, roast leg of mutton, shoulder ditto, ducks, fowls, geese, ribs and sirloin of beef, pigeons compoté, toad in hole, oyster patés, roast turkey, ham, curry, tongues, apple tarts, almond pastry, tartlets, maccaroni pudding, currant ditto," &c., &c. And when we consider that a dinner equal in amount and variety to this was given every day, from the hour the vessel left Southampton, to the hour that she reached Alexandria-a period generally of twenty days and that provisions are taken out for both

the out and the home passage, some idea may be formed of the tons of food which the vessel's hold is expected to contain. After dinner, wines of various sorts were placed on the tables, and a very fair dessert. Champagne was given two days a-week, for such as were not very fastidious, and occasionally turtle soup. There was nothing to complain of in way of fare: the only grievance was that there was not a sufficient number of stewards to gratify all the hungry impulses of the 150 passengers at one and the same moment. This dinner only lasted till seven o'clock: then the horn sounded for tea, toast, bread and butter, &c.; and at nine o'clock the indefatigable appetites of the passengers were once more regaled with biscuits, wine, spirits, hot water, and lump sugar. So much for the provision department.

The manner in which men spent their time varied, of course, very much according to individual tastes and habits. We generally were up at seven, to pace the deck, and drink in the fresh sea breeze. After breakfast, if it were a sunny, pleasant morning, the ladies used to bring their work on deck, and chat, as only ladies can chat, deliciously. Some men brought books to read-for there was a most excellent library on board, under the superintendence of the surgeon, which comprised most of Mr. Bohn's Standard Library, Murray's Home and Colonial Library, Dr. Chalmers' complete works, &c. -some played at chess and backgammon, some walked desperately, what we used to call at Oxford

constitutionals," some smoked tranquilly at a respectful distance from civilized society. At eleven o'clock a band of music began to play. It was composed of some of the stewards, and they really played very tolerably. A subscription list went round for them at the end of the voyage, and every crown they got was thoroughly earned. Then lunch broke the morning-after lunch much the same went on. Some methodical men wrote journals, some examined accounts, some prepared letters for the Alexandria post-office, some went to sleep,

some looked wistfully at the clock, which persisted obstinately in not going faster than sixty minutes in the hour. After dinner the band struck up again till tea; at nine, the ladies generally retired; and the gentlemen came down into the saloon to play at cards or chess, or seek any amusement to while away the passing hour.

There is a monotony in life at sea: one day is so exactly like another. We are perpetually surrounded by the same faces: we cannot escape into ourselves: we are never alone. When a storm comes it ruffles the calm face of society, and very considerably weeds the dinner company in the saloon. We had a good deal of stormy weather going out to Alexandria; and though neither of us were ever ill, yet we frequently felt vastly uncomfortable. We found the best plan was to lie on our backs, about midships, keep perfectly quiet, and feed on dry biscuits. The very smell of dinner, in that close den of a saloon, was enough to make one squeamish; so my friend and I used to wrap up in our cloaks and rugs, in the snuggest and driest corner we could find, (for most of the deck was quite wet with the seas that were continually breaking over the vessel,) and try to persuade ourselves that a stormy sea was a magnificent sight, when we could not stand to see it: and if a heavy wave did strike the vessel, and bestow on us a bountiful portion of its boisterous attentions, we indulged in a hearty laugh-stood up a moment for such a shake as a Newfoundland dog might have delighted in, and then laid ourselves down again to con over childhood's memories, and talk of dear, dear friends, far away. There was something in the wild sublimity of the scene that always evoked deep stirring thoughts; and as we conversed of long forgotten days, and fought over again the mimic battles of schoolboy warfare, the very howling of the storm and the sullen rolling of the billows seemed to lend a mysterious charm to our glowing words. I often look back with a pleasant sadness to those stormy evenings, when all the other