THE SAVIOUR'S ABODE WITH HIS PEOPLE.
BY THE REV. PELHAM MAITLAND, M.A.
Curate of Blackburn, Lancashire.

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ALTHOUGH we can never expect to be blessed with the company of the Saviour in the same way as the disciples, the chosen companions of his earthly ministry, yet there is a sense in which each one of us may participate in the like blessed privilege. "Behold," says Jesus, "I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me.' Here he voluntarily offers to take up his abode with those who are ready to give him admittance. Although ascended up on high, he will condescend to enter the dwellings of every one desirous of his presence. And what a privilege is this, to know that he will take up his abode with so rebellious a creature as man! But how is this effected? The Holy Spirit is the agent employed upon this errand of mercy. In one of his last conversations with the disciples, Jesus encouraged them by the promise, "And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth." And on another occasion he declared, "It is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you." While on earth, Jesus instructed the disciples himself, as we find from his intercessory prayer: "While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy name." But when he had accomplished his part in the scheme of man's redemption, then the task of rendering

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the great sacrifice effectual, and of carrying on the work which he had commenced, was left to the Holy Spirit. The Father had devised the scheme for man's rescue; the Son carried that scheme into execution; and the Holy Ghost undertook to prosecute the great work thus begun. Hence, in the apostolic writings, we always find the Holy Ghost spoken of as abiding in the Church, both collectively and individually, overruling and directing every thing connected with the body of Christ. Thus St. Paul, when comparing the Jewish and Christian dispensations, and shewing the superiority of the latter, uses this expression, "How shall not the ministration of the Spirit be rather glorious?" that is, how much more glorious is that dispensation which is one of life, and under the guidance and superintendence of the Spirit of God, than that which was one of death, and written and engraven on stones! And the same apostle, when speaking of what he calls "the mystery of Christ," tells the Ephesians, that in other ages it was not made known unto the sons of men, "as it is now revealed unto the holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit." Here, then, in these two quotations, we find instances of the abiding of the Spirit in the Church collectively and it is a wondrous thought, to consider that, although unseen by mortal eye, there yet remains in the Church, and pervading every part of it, this Divine Agent, ever ready to put forth his influences in any way that may be beneficial to the whole. But he abides also with us individually; and this is what we are at present more concerned with; "Know ye not," says St. Paul, "that your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost?" And again;

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"But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you." And the same apostle writes-" But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you." So numerous are the passages bearing upon this subject, that it would be easy to multiply them indefinitely; but those that have been brought forward are sufficient to shew that the Holy Spirit dwells in the hearts of individual Christians. Now, as there are three Persons in the unity of the Divine essence, and as they are nevertheless but one eternal and everlasting God, it follows, that what is said to be done by one Person, is, in a measure, also the act of the other two: so that when we are told that the Holy Spirit dwells in the heart, we at the same time know that the Son dwells there likewise. And thus, then, does he abide with us, and though not visible to sight, as he was to the disciples at Emmaus, yet it will most assuredly be found, when a welcome is given to his approach, that to such he will certainly "go in, and tarry with them."

Various are the happy results arising from the abiding of Jesus by his Spirit in the heart of man. Among others may be mentioned, the excitement of "a desire after holiness," and "the renewal of our corrupt nature." When the Holy Spirit really influences the soul, he produces in it a wish for conformity to the divine likeness. Naturally, we well know that this is not the case. Any other object, rather than that of the will of God, engages our attention. No man, unless his heart is renewed by the all-powerful influences of the Holy Ghost, can answer the description given by our Saviour of hungering and thirsting after righteousness. We desire the objects of worldly attraction, -the gains, the honours, and the amusements of time; but we have no power to set our affections on things above: we cannot walk by faith and not by sight; we cannot shake off the trammels of flesh and sense, and rise to the contemplation of heavenly things, and hold communion with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. No natural powers, no high intellect, no extraordinary acquirements, can produce this; for we too frequently find men blessed with every advantage of this nature, total strangers to the character of true religion. This is a doctrine plainly declared by our Saviour, when he tells us, "Ye must be born again;" that is, we must be born with different feelings, and different desires, to those which we bring into the world with us at our natural birth. I stop not to inquire when the Holy Spirit is

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infused into the soul, or by what means that is accomplished; I am only speaking of the general principle inculcated by Christ, and enforced by his apostles, that a change of heart is necessary, and that it can only be produced by the influences of the Divine Spirit. When, then, a reception is given to the visits of the Comforter, and we grieve him not, it will be found that a desire after holiness and conformity to the character of God is produced: and whereas formerly the man had no wishes but those which are bounded by this present passing scene, he now possesses a taste for holier and more sublime gratifications, even those which engage the attention of the holy angels and of God himself. To be like God, is his most earnest desire; and he can enter into the sentiment of the Psalmist, when he said, “As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." To such an one sin will become a burden, from which he will desire to free himself, and, as it were, to shake it off from him; and by the influences of the Holy Spirit constantly granted, he will be enabled to subdue sin more and more, and continually to increase in holiness. For, let it be remarked, that the work of this Divine Agent is a gradual one; and as the world which we inhabit occupied the six days of creation before it was completed, so also is it with the regeneration of the soul: and therefore St. Paul speaks of being "changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." There are various degrees in the divine life; and perhaps there are but few Christians, comparatively, who can with sincerity express a wish with the apostles, 66 to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." Such a state of mind is not easily attainable; and it is not usually till after years of walking with God, that men are brought to feel as St. Paul did. The highest standard, indeed, is that at which we ought to aim: and if the Holy Spirit is influencing our hearts to any saving purpose, we shall not be satisfied to remain stationary in the divine life; we shall daily aspire after a greater likeness to God; ever bearing in mind the precept of our Saviour, "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." But, at the same time, while we cannot fix our standard of perfection too high, let not any one despond, because he cannot as yet attain to that state of holiness which he sees to have been gained by others. If, I would say to such a person, you are striving against sin, and to keep down the corrupt propensities of your nature, in whatever those propensities may consistif you are endeavouring to follow the example

with thirteen passengers and servants, making fortysix souls. They had experienced light and variable

and will, by degrees, subdue in you what is repugnant to God's holy will; and will carry you forward to that land of blessedness, where there will be no more sin, and where we shall be like Jesus; for we shall see him as he is. Such, then, is one happy result produced by the abode of the Holy Spirit in the heart.

NARRATIVE OF THE LOSS OF THE SHIP "ELDON" (CAPT. E. THEAKER),

Destroyed by fire in the Indian Ocean, Sept. 27th, 1834. BY DR. R. HARTLEY KENNEDY, Bombay Presidency.* THE inscrutable dispensations of Providence, by which our lives are checquered with such varieties of fortune, will no doubt have their full and sufficient explanation in another and a better world: the veil is not to be removed here, and we can only submit to whatever befalls us too happy if able to exercise those virtues which adorn human nature, and mingle with its infirmities some faint traces of its divine origin and its destined immortality.

The destruction of the ship Eldon by fire, in the midst of the Indian Ocean, at the tempestuous period of the equinox, and upwards of a thousand miles from the nearest attainable land, was a calamity which no ordinary foresight or care could have prevented. The singular preservation of every individual of the crew and passengers, of whom four were females, and one a child of five months, was almost a miraculous instance of what the human frame is capable of enduring, and also of what it is capable of performing, when aided by unbroken spirits, good sense, and firm virtuous determination to hope and work to the last. Under the mercy of God, it was solely accomplished by the exemplary conduct of every individual of the party; and the unshaken nerve, self-possession, and skill, of the worthy captain, an English sailor of the true British class-quiet, conciliatory, and kind to his men, when all was well; and firm, active, keen, intelligent, and not to be dispirited, when the occasion required unusual exertion. What might have occurred, had any single individual forgotten his duty, or had the excellent head been unequal to his, would be frightful to contemplate. Happily these evils were spared to the poor sufferers; and their eventful history conveys the instructive lesson of what may be performed by virtuous energy, struggling against all dangers, and overcoming all difficulties, even in their worst form and most strange combinations. It is indeed a lesson which should not be lost; it forms a bright passage in the delineation of character, and in the history of mind; and is an example and beacon for future sufferers, how to hope, and how to labour, that they may not only survive to recite another like history of energy and success, but may deserve and enjoy the approbation of their own consciences, and the admiration and applause of their friends and countrymen.

The Eldon, Captain Edward Theaker, sailed from Bombay on the 24th August, 1834, bound to the Cape of Good Hope and London. Her burden was rated under 600 tons admeasurement; but she was actually laden with nearly 1,000 tons of miscellaneous cargo, consisting of Bombay black-wood, ebony, gums, drugs, rice, and cotton: the heavy goods below, and the cottons above, piled up to touching the main-deck, and crowded to the utmost she could stow. Her crew consisted of the captain, three mates, the surgeon, and twenty-eight men and apprentices-total, thirty-three; • Extracted from the Canterbury Journal.

were in latitude nine degrees thirty minutes south, and seventy-six degrees east, with fine weather, having that morning found themselves in the south-east trades, to the steady course of which their eventual preservation is to be attributed.

At four o'clock in the morning of the 27th Sept. the officer of the watch reported to the captain that faint lines of smoke were seen occasionally issuing from the fore-hatches; a discovery which does not appear to have occasioned the least apprehension of what was to be the result. A portion of the cotton had been embarked in a wet state, the Eldon having loaded in Bombay in the rains; and Captain Theaker appears to have at once adopted and acted on the impression, that it was merely a chemical process in the injured cotton, of damp-rot and self-combustion; and he had heard of such cases, in which the "affected bales" had been promptly discovered and thrown overboard.

The first tier of cotton bales which could be got up were perfectly clean and untouched, and were piled upon the decks; but during this process the smoke was increasing; and at half-past seven, Capt. Theaker sent to request Major Hart and the passengers to assemble on the quarter-deck, and made them acquainted with the situation of the cargo. No alarm whatever was expressed or felt; his appearance and manners were in no respects altered. A very laborious examination of the cargo was the worst that he apprehended; and his communication with the passengers was to prevent alarm, not to warn them of danger. So perfectly cool and collected were all parties, that they went to breakfast as quietly as usual; the men, however, were requested by the captain to make the most of the present opportunity, as they had a hard day's work before them, and many hours might elapse ere they could enjoy another comfortable meal." He little dreamt of the prophetic truth of the warning, which his natural and usual kindness induced him to deliver as the men were proceeding to their food.

After breakfast the fore-hatches were opened, and the cotton removed with great expedition to the deck; but in about an hour and a half, the smoke, which from the first had continued rapidly increasing, became so dense, that the men could no longer work below, and the after-hatches were opened to permit its escape. At this period the captain crept in as far as was practicable, betwixt the bales and lading, in the direction where the smoke issued, and appears to have then first conjectured the extent of the mischief, and its possible consequences. All the hatches were closed down to prevent the current of air; a hole was cut through the deck near the main-mast, and water poured down; and orders were quietly given to prepare the boats, as a precautionary measure, should the worst befall them.

About twelve o'clock, when the boats were partly prepared, the captain resumed the now dangerous task of subduing the fire; the main hatch was first opened, which, on removing its cover of tarpaulin, was discovered to be lifted up four inches by the force of the steam. On approaching the fire in this direction, the extent to which it had proceeded, and the length of time it must have been in progress, were ascertained. On attempting to remove the burning bales of cotton, it was found that all the lashings were consumed, and any handling of them only increased the evil by shaking them loose; others again were totally burnt through, and were a mere mass of tinder, into which the men could thrust their arms unopposed. During this hour, the heat and smoke continued increasing, and the urgent duty of procuring provisions, water, and other necessaries for the boats, became a painful and hazardous labour. At one o'clock, the female passengers

were removed to the boat, again as a precautionary measure, though still encouraged to indulge a hope that the destruction of the vessel might be averted; but though every possible exertion was persisted in, Major Hart exhausted and feeble by long illness, and Captain Hewitt and the other passengers having toiled with the crew throughout, the fire most perceptibly gained a head every moment, burning most intensely near the mainmast, where the main-deck even was now perceived to be on fire; and the heat had become so scorching, that the men were no longer able to work-so that all hope of saving the ship was at last resigned.

The captain, in conjunction with Major Hart, now made his arrangements for the boats, apportioning the crews for each; and such was the coolness and precision with which all was provided for, that even arms, as a last resource, should the crew unhappily forget their duty in some future extremity of suffering and privation, and become mutinous and unmanage able, were not forgotten. Major Hart discharged the melancholy duty of ordering the destruction of his favourite horse, which he was taking with him to the Cape; and the live stock, sheep, goats, pigs, turkeys, fowls, geese, and ducks, were humanely thrown overboard, as an easier destruction than by fire. When the boats were adrift from the ship, the sea was covered with these poor creatures, of whom the geese and ducks, by a happy blindness to their fate, were screaming and frantic with joy at being loose on the water, diving, and floating, and flying about in an ecstacy of enjoyment: their appearance formed a strange contrast to the spectacle of human suffering they surrounded.

The risk of explosion, from the fire reaching the spirits and gunpowder, became now very imminent, and at three o'clock it was impossible to remain in the ship, when all quitted her, the captain himself the last. The first and second mates were appointed to command the two small boats, with a compass, and a crew of nine men to each; the spars and stores for rigging were apportioned, and such arrangements completed as their situation allowed. The captain, third mate, surgeon, and ten men, with the twelve passengers and child, twenty-six souls, were in the long boat, with all the water and provisions, except two kegs of water, and about a couple of days' consumption of biscuit to each of the small boats, which was all that they could stow with safety: they were light and manageable, and easily sailed round the larger boat; a light was displayed for their guidance by night; they were ordered to keep as close on each quarter as safety would permit, and approached daily for their supply of provisions.

On quitting the ship, her helm was lashed a-lee, and the sails put partially aback to keep her steady; and the poor fugitives on the ocean had a moment of leisure to contemplate the melancholy scene.

The appearance of the burning ship was sublimely appalling; whilst the mingled feelings of remembered comforts so recently enjoyed, and so unexpectedly and painfully snatched from them, contrasted with bitter forebodings of sufferings and almost certain destruction, must necessarily have filled every heart, and subdued the stoutest spirit into sadness. The captain and passengers, particularly Major Hart, whose loss, by a combination of unfortunate circumstances, was unusually heavy, saw valuable property destroyed, which years of privation and industry would not serve replace; and even the humblest of the crew lost all they had to lose, and saw, in the future, one common danger, and probably one common fate for all. The fire soon reached the poop, where its progress, from the airy, open space of the large cabins, was frightfully rapid: the mizen-mast first fell; but the destruction of the sails more particularly presented a singular spectacle, and awful proof of the vast force of fire when

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in a mass. The progress of the flame from the heel of the main-sail to the royal-head was almost as instantaneous as the flash of gunpowder; it flew upwards with a crackling, whizzing report; the canvass disappeared as if by magic; the ashes and blazing fragments were blown away, and the fires were seen running down the rigging; and in an incredible short space of time, the masts went crashing over the side. All was now a bright blaze, and the vessel finally exploded and disappeared about nine o'clock.

The ship being utterly abandoned, Capt. Theaker's first care was to explain to his fellow-sufferers the plan he proposed to adopt, and his reasons for so doing. The nearest point of land was the island Diego Garcia, which was short of 400 miles; but to have gone back into uncertain winds, was to hazard the risk of calms and squally weather, and, on the whole, the longer voyage; whilst to sail towards Roderigues, was to use the trade-wind, which, under average circumstances, might be expected to drive them thither in a reasonable time: the distance was calculated to be 1,050 miles.

The moon was in her last quarter; and when night closed upon the sea, the sad feelings of the party defy description. The carpenter, and such as could assist, were busied preparing the rough spars for masts and yards; the sail-maker in shaping sails: all else had to occupy their thoughts with hopes or fears, and to imagine visionary sources of comfort denied by the revolting reality. The mind follows them in their long and dreary pilgrimage over the waters, and sees the glazed eye brighten as the white wing of the distant sea bird on the skirt of their horizon may have been frequently mistaken for a sail. No false hopes, however, of land deceived them: the cautious foresight of Capt. Theaker had provided every necessary for skilful navigation, and their precise position was regularly and accurately ascertained.

The long-boat had appeared sufficiently loaded when quitting the ship; it was only 22 feet long, and 7 broad, and was, in fact, crowded; but on the second day, the jolly-boat, in a pitch against a heavy sea, split open at the bows, and was reported in danger. She was brought alongside; and after a very careful and minute examination by the captain and carpenter, she was found unmanageable; her compass, and stores, and crew, were received into the longboat, and she was abandoned. This unfortunate occurrence cast a shade of gloom over every countenance. Crowded before, they were now literally wedged together in a space which permitted no motion to any one but those employed in working the boat. No one dreamt of lying down, any change of limb even being hardly possible; and whoever reclined for rest had to press upon some accommodating neighbour; whilst the fearful probability which it brought to their apprehension, of the other small boat being found equally incompetent to such a sea, and for such a distance, and the consequent necessity of receiving her crew also, which involved the certain destruction of all, shewed in a still stronger view upon how frail a thread their hopes depended.

Their sufferings surpass description. The intense heat of a tropical sun scorched them through the day, and left them exhausted and uncovered to shiver under the chilling winds of night. Two heavy gales of wind occurred, and added to their perils and sufferings; in one of these Captain Theaker for fortyeight hours never quitted the thwart on which he had posted himself, nor ever relaxed his vigilance; watching the waves, and giving his orders as coolly as if no particular emergency existed: and such was the sense of respect and duty, that not a voice was heard save his, nor was he ever obeyed with more willing alacrity. Even when once-and it was the crisis of their fate-a sea rolled bodily over the boat, and seemed to swallow them up in an instant and unavoid

able destruction, not a word escaped from any one: the involuntary gasping for breath, from being so suddenly overwhelmed by such a suffocating mass of water, was all that followed; and the captain's cheerful exclamation and command of "All right again; bale away!" was obeyed with hearty alacrity; and in a few moments the boat was cleared and righted.

But the wind, though tempestuous, was favourable, and a blessing; had it fallen a calm in such a temperature, and at such a distance from land, their escape would have been more difficult, and their sufferings more painful.

The wisdom and cool forethought with which all preparations had been made, and the perfect science and good discipline with which their little skiff of six tons' burden was navigated, enabling them to calculate almost to an hour when and where they were to land, preserved the poor sufferers from the last horrors of famine: still, their supply of food was most limited.

The sufferings of three ladies, young women who had been accustomed from infancy to every comfort and indulgence, to whom any sort of privation had been an idea unthought of-one, too, with a child of five months at the breast, and her servant, four delicate females, exceed description; they must be left to imagination, and reference made only to the pious resignation and firm fortitude with which they bore their bitter lot; setting an example which was not without its cheering and supporting effect on their companions: their conduct throughout was honourable to themselves, and an honour to their sex.

From the first alarm, on the morning of the 27th September, to the landing at Roderigues, about noon of October 10th, notwithstanding extreme bodily suffering, from which the strongest were not exemptswollen legs and scorbutic boils to the most distressing and painful degree from confinement, incessant wet, and bad and deficient food,-with all these accumulated afflictions, thirteen days' and nights' exposure in open boats in tempestuous weather under a vertical sun, and on stinted provisions, was borne with the devotion and heroism of the good old British seamanship; and the captain was as respectfully heard and obeyed as under the best circumstances.

There is an eloquent passage in Sir John Herschel's invaluable "Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy," part of paragraph 21, which pleasingly illustrates and may adorn this narrative." That a man, by merely measuring the moon's apparent distance from a star with a little portable instrument held in his hand, and applied to his eye even with so unstable a footing as the deck of a ship, shall positively say, within five miles, where he is, on a boundless ocean, cannot but appear to persons ignorant of physical astronomy, an approach to the miraculous."

So per

fectly certain, under all disadvantages, was Captain Theaker of their situation, that on the evening of the 9th October, he shortened sail and lay to during the night; and saw land, the north-east side of the Island of Roderigues, as was expected, with the dawning of the day. Their feelings may be imagined, but cannot be described; they were worn out and exhausted by hunger and thirst; by exposure to heat and wet; by anxiety, confinement, and want of rest and sleep; their skin under their clothes, which were now rotting on their bodies, was stuccoed with encrusted salt, and was breaking out in scorbutic boils and sores, which with every touch of salt water smarted to agony :-but all was forgotten-the haven was before them!

They were first descried by a black fisherman, who kindly put out to sea to assist them, and pilot them through the narrow channels of the coral-reefs; and having guided them to the shore, sent off his comrades to apprise the residents on the island of the occurrence. This poor fellow's description of their appearance when first seen, may serve to convey an idea of

their situation: "They were," said he, "as closely packed into the boat and wedged together as the little fishes in a box of sardignes."

The only two residents in that part of the island, Mons. Endes and Mons. Venterre, came immediately to their relief, and welcomed them to their houses, and gave them all they had to give with the most eager cordiality: they clothed, lodged, and fed the whole party, forty-five persons, for nine days, in a manner and with a cheerful alacrity of kindness and sympathy in their misfortunes, which deserve a grateful and faithful remembrance. Major Hart brought the names of these excellent citizens and good men to the particular notice of the honourable the governor of Port Louis; and it may confidently be hoped that their virtue and charity may not pass without reward.

The party so miraculously preserved, without the loss of a single individual, proceeded in a schooner to Port Louis, where they landed on the 23d October. They were received with the most consolatory and gratifying attention. The honourable the governor, Sir W. Nicolay, was pleased to offer the hospitality of government-house to Major and Mrs. Hart; and the most respectable inhabitants of the place immediately left cards of inquiry and offers of service of every description, sending them at once, unasked, the most liberal supplies of linen and clothes to relieve their immediate wants. The regimental messes of her majesty's 9th and 29th regiments sent invitations to their military brethren, offering the accommodation of their mess-tables, and whatever else lay in their power, to assist them in their distress. Finally, government most kindly guaranteed the bills they required to draw to supply their wants, that they might not feel any pecuniary embarrassment. In fact, nothing that condescension or goodness could suggest on the part of Sir W. and Lady Nicolay-nothing that sympathy in their sufferings could call forth from the community at large, was omitted; and Captain Theaker, his crew, and passengers, were soon able to proceed in different vessels to England, and Major and Mrs. Hart to the Cape of Good Hope.

One word, in conclusion, respecting what is called the "heating of cotton;" that is to say, the supposed capability of vegetable substances, such as hay, clover, cotton, &c., to ignite and create fire by self-combustion, under the chemical process of decomposition, through damp and heat. The point is disputed; and whilst some allow the possibility of such self-ignition, it is stoutly denied by others. The heat generated by fermentation, of which a specimen may be seen in a manure-heap, is not supposed, under any conceivable circumstances, adequate to ignition. The slow progress of fire, so long as it remains pent up, and until air is admitted, has, however, removed from most minds the idea of its being other than a chemical process in the cargo itself, when fire has been found to break out after smouldering for weeks in a ship's hold among the close-screwed cotton bales: but those who argue thus should remember that air, as well as fuel, are wanted for fire, and that the consumption of the former without a sufficient supply of the latter is an exceedingly slow and creeping process, prolonged to an extent of which no estimate can be formed without an accurate knowledge of the precise degree to which the stowage and closing down of the hold have approached to hermetically sealing. In the meanwhile, though it may be disputed whether actual selfcombustion can occur, it can never be denied, that a spark or grain of hot charcoal dropped from a cooly's hooka, and sticking to a cotton bale, if screwed unquenched into a cotton hold, is not likely to go out of itself," but may, and most probably will, burn on until it makes a vacuum, which must and will be filled, for no ship's hold can be air-tight; it will then create, by its own action, a limited current of air, and increase in strength in proportion to the means of in

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