above water. The storm passing away as quickly as it had approached, the river subsided with equal rapidity; but no fleet was now visible, it had been dispersed in all directions, and the ravages of this brief hurricane, were made known by masts, rudders, and the more ghastly forms of drowned men, floating down the stream. These traces of the late fearful turbulence speedily vanished; vessels, which had escaped the danger, hoisted their sails to gentle zephyrs, which wafted them over seas of glass scarcely agitated by the slightest ruffle. The sudden changes of the wind, which take place during the rainy season, are still more dangerous when a gale has been blowing steadily for several days up the river, forcing the water back; should it veer round in a moment, which too frequently happens, the chained billows break loose, rising to a mountainous height; wave follows upon wave, each more tremendous than the last; the Ganges assumes the appearance of a mighty ocean lashed into fury by the winds of a thousand caves; whole villages are overwhelmed; lofty cliffs, undermined by the swelling surges, fall in with horrid crashes, and the scene of devastation produced by this wild warfare of the elements is beyond description frightful. Often, when moored during the heavy gales to the shore, the boats are merely fastened to stakes fixed in the ground, in the most dangerous manner; should the cables give way, destruction is almost certain; away goes the vessel (sometimes upset in the melée) into the middle of the stream; darkness increases the danger, and the greater part of those who are not so fortunate as to reach the shore on the first alarm, must inevitably perish.

Another disagreeable but not dangerous casualty, which sometimes occurs in proceeding up the river, is the detention from contrary winds in some place, where a bluff promontory, rising perpendicularly from the water, will not admit of a towing-path. There is no alternative but to wait a change of weather; oars and sweeps are alike useless in contending against the force of the current; and light boats, manned by four and twenty stout rowers, are baffled and driven back in attempting to stem the tide, which comes rushing round a protruding point; even the propelling power of steam seems to be set at nought by the giant strength of the Ganges, when putting forth all its energies.

*15

From the Journal of a Traveller.

SHIP POLAND.

(Continued.)

RELIGIOUS INTEREST ON BOARD.

THE daily exercise of morning prayers and the efforts made, silently to extend the influence of piety among the sailors, as week after week passed away, were attended with manifest good effects. One of the officers said to me, that there had been a great change in the crew, since they left New York, and even since we sailed from Havre. Profanity, which had been a most prevalent vice, had almost entirely disappeared. Scarcely ever was an oath now heard, although, before, when out of the Captain's hearing, their conversation was filled with perpetual oaths.

There had also been three probable cases of conversion since the Poland left New York, and one since her departure from Havre. An officer of high rank in the ship, a very candid and kind-hearted man, though without any Christian profession, declared to the Captain, that there must be some reality in the changes which he witnessed. "A sailor," said he, "who, a few weeks ago, was cursing and swearing, in the fore-castle, now comes every morning, to the quarter-deck, at prayers, and sometimes leads in the devotion, and prays like a regular bred minister.',

The ship's carpenter was a fine man, and a most warm-hearted Christian. I went to him one day, to inquire about the sailors and the state of religious interest among them. Two or three, we knew, were deeply impressed; and it was desirable to have some opportunity for a retired and private interview with them. The carpenter has held for some time a weekly prayermeeting, in his state-room, for the pious among the number. And I was in hopes to get admission to it. I found apparently a most cordial welcome.

An hour or two after my interview with the mate, I met the Captain. He came up to me, with a very pleasant and animated smile" Well, Mr. A., I understand you are going out to attend a meeting in the village to night."

I did not at first comprehend his meaning; but from his significant look, I soon understood his metaphor.

He said that the mate had been to him, and related the substance of our conversation together, and was quite overjoyed at

the anticipated meeting. "The room," said he, "is mighty small for such a purpose, but I will make it as large as I can, and perhaps we can squeeze in." The hour appointed was eight, and I waited for it with much interest.

THE MEETING AT THE VILLAGE.

At 8 o'clock, the Captain and myself directed our steps towards the carpenter's state-room. It was one of several small state-rooms, fitted up in a deck house, just aft the main-mast, and is represented in the cut in our last number but one. It was about six or seven feet long, and two and a half or three feet wide. As we entered, we found six sailors, as snugly stowed away as possible. One seat was left unoccupied for one of us, and the other was obliged to accommodate himself as well as he could in one of the berths. This place, the Captain insisted upon taking, and accordingly he shared it with one of his common sailors, both half sitting and half reclining, as it were, upon a shelf.

Thus our little audience, eight in number, were all accommodated, and the door was shut, and one thing I can safely say, that a more crowded meeting I never attended upon shore.

We commenced the service, by singing "Come, Holy Spirit." The Captain then offered an appropriate prayer. Then, after a few verses had been read, with some explanatory remarks, the Captain requested one of the sailors to give a little account of his present feelings, and of the change which had taken place.

The first, who gave an account of himself was a young Swede. He said that, for the last two voyages, he had thought more than ever on the subject of religion; but that he had never given his mind up to it entirely. At Havre, he heard Mr. Mines preach a sermon on the text, "How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?" This sermon had produced a deep impression upon him, which he could not shake off, and he had been thinking of the subject, all along on the passage, until the other day, when he was at work on the main rigging, he thought he found peace. He was thinking and praying that God would "take away the stony heart out of his flesh, and give him a heart of flesh;" when it seemed to him, that the Saviour did give him a new heart, and that his sins were forgiv en. He felt so happy that he could almost fly. Every thing looked differently from what it ever did before. Every object around the ship and all the ocean seemed to be praising God.

The Captain here asked him, by the way of caution, lest he should place too much reliance upon a sudden change in his feelings, whether he did not think that his mind had been preparing for this, by his reading and reflection and prayer, during

the few months past, and also by the religious exercises which the ship had enjoyed every morning? But more particularly asked the Captain, have you not prayed much and earnestly for this great blessing?

"Yes, Sir!" he modestly replied, "I think I have, especially the other day, when I was at the wheel."

The narrative of the second was substantially as follows: "My mother and all my friends were pious. I think I can truly say, I was the only black sheep among them; and I was black enough, in every sense of the word. My mother ther did every thing for me, that a mother could do. She never let an opportunity pass unimproved, for making an impression on my mind. But I always put away every thing she said. I never went home, but she conversed with me on the subject; and I know, if any one ever had a mother's prayers, I am that one. However, it all was of no use to me; for I was so set on my own ways, that nothing had any effect upon me. I used to put a restraint upon myself when I was at home, out of respect to her; for I loved my mother, and did not want to hurt her feelings.

"Well it happened, when I was at New Orleans the last time, I heard something said about the Ship Poland, and I had some how or other a strange desire to go in her. I did not know any thing about her, only I felt a strong wish to go in her. I resolved, when I went to New York, to find her out, and try to ship in her. I did so, and the prayers, every morning, have made me think more on the subject of religion, than I ever did before.

"Still I never could give my mind up to it. But when we were in Havre, one evening, I had made an appointment to go into bad company, and it was the same evening that Mr. Mines was to preach. The thought came into my head, that I could attend the meeting, and go to the appointment afterwards. So I went to meeting; but when it was over, I had no desire to go to bad company. I went alone, and was very miserable. I could neither sleep nor rest. At length, I was brought to be willing to give up every indulgence, and every thing, for Christ; and I think found peace."

That

The third said that his father was a Universalist. several years ago he was living in the family of a Baptist minister, in the State of Connecticut. A powerful revival blessed the neighborhood. He, among others, hoped he was a subject of renewing grace.

One sabbath day, several young men, himself among the

number, were, after suitable previous examination, expected to be baptized and received into the church. But he, through the influence of bad associates, was led astray, and absented himself from the baptismal scene. From that time, his course had been that of a sad wanderer. Yet he now hoped that he had some sense of his situation, and felt sincere desires to become a Christian, as all the hopes he ever cherished, he believed, were false. One more replied to the Captain's inquiries, "Yes, Sir, I do believe religion is real and necessary."

"And how does it seem to you, now? Do you feel willing to live any longer without it?"

"I don't think I can, Sir."

After another short prayer, and some more familiar conversation, about the state of things on board ship, our little assembly was dismissed.

As the Captain and myself left the door of the carpenter's state-room, they all, with one accord, added to their response to our "good night," "We thank you for coming to our meeting."

As we walked along beside the small house on deck, a part of which formed our little "school-house," towards the gate in the partition which separated the quarter-deck from midships, the Captain says," Come, Mr. A., take my arm; Iam afraid you will lose the way along this dark lane: you don't know the course home as well as I do." And so we walked home together, I leaving the Captain at his little room on deck, and descending to my own state-room, to muse on the interesting meeting I had attended a thousand miles from shore.

The religious interest among our sailors noiselessly advanced. Our good carpenter came to me one day, with glistening eyes, to say, that there were two more volunteers for the evening meeting; and he said others had expressed a wish to go, if there was only room.

THE SAILOR WHO HAD KNOCKED OFF DRINKING.

When the Captain was last in New York, he was visited, one Monday morning, by a tall, gaunt looking sailor, not particularly promising in his appearance. He wished to ship himself as a hand on board the Poland.

"I have heard of you and of the Poland, before," said he to the Captain.

"What have you heard of us?"

"Oh! I have heard it is a temperance ship; and I want to

go in her."