were in high spirits, and, to increase their hilarity, they resorted to the intoxicating bowl; all but the pilot, who seemed to be as fully aware of the peril as your own conscience, sinner, for they were then not far from the sailors' dread, the Maelstrom.

But the captain and crew feared nothing. They commenced a merry dance on deck. The revel increased as they continued to drink.

“Come, dance around, my jolly boys!" said the captain. And away went the merry tars in continued circle around the deck, shouting till their lungs were spent. It was a drunken revel.

"Captain," said the sober pilot, who alone refused to join the jollification, "we must drop anchor at once. The wind has died away, and the ship has performed a quarter-circle within the last half-hour."

"Ha, ha, ha!" shouted the captain. "Fill your glasses, my merry lads! Dance around, I say; the good old ship is keeping us company!"

The pilot rushed back, with a pale and concerned look, to note indications of the tale-telling compass. Presently he returned with a face livid from fear.

"Captain!" he cried, "for the love of Heaven drop anchor at once, till the wind springs up, for we have entered the Maelstrom. See with the glass. Yonder ship has cast anchor, and she is now making signals to us."

"Away, thou fool!" screamed the captain. "My lads, I'll give you a song." He began

66

Away, away with the brow of care!

The devil is blithesome and merry;

Odd boots it where, if there's pleasure there,

With plenty of champagne and sherry.”

The pilot became frantic. No one volunteered to aid him in dropping anchor; it was a feat impossible for one to perform. Now a signal shot boomed from the other ship. A boat put forth with a line securing it to the vessel. pilot ran to the heavy life-boat, but could not move it. vain he called for aid. Still the dance and shout and song

of revelry went on.

The

In

Once again he flew to the compass, and in despair seized the useless helm,- for no wind filled the sails, and still the ship moved on the mysterious circle. For the last time he came to give the solemn warning to the now reclining captain and crew. He begged and prayed to them to heed their danger; - danger seemed to have a fascinating sound, and he was answered with a laugh. As they laughed, he wept, cautioned them with tears, and threw himself into the sea. With strong frame he swam through the fatal current towards the boat put forth to rescue, and reached it in safety. As long as line could be found in the anchored vessel, the boat continued its way toward the ship with the drunken crew. They came within hail, and called on them to save themselves. One or two, sobered by the sense of danger, threw themselves into the sea, and succeeded in reaching the boat; but the others became stupid. The line was at length exhausted. The ship could now be seen slowly moving on its narrow circle, yet those on board put forth no effort to their own preservation. It was a fearful sight. From the other vessel every eye was strained with an intense gaze. Rapid, hurried action was there. Still the line was extended, with every species of material that could be found for the purpose. Necessity became the inventor of hopes never heard of in ordinary emergency. It availed not to reach the vessel of the drunken crew. Without power to aid, those in the boat beheld them hastening on into a terrible grave, with the agony and excitement

each moment increasing. Still they waited. Night was coming on. Faster and faster grew the motion of the ship. At last the approaching shadows warned them to return. The fated ship was seen through the gloom continuing her circles with increased volition. Darkness came down, and cast a veil over the scene. When morning dawned the ship and

the drunken crew had vanished forever from sight!

Hear me, 0 ye careless ones! We know of nothing that so vividly illustrates your infatuation as this. Why will ye die? Already are you performing those mysterious circles, verging rapidly to the Maelstrom of hell! Sin, like the intoxicating cup, infatuates you. We have hoisted our signals. Again and again has the report of our solitary signal-gun boomed in your ears. We have approached within hailing distance. We offer you assistance. Zion's ship is waiting to receive you, anchored to the Rock of Ages. Jesus, our captain, bids you welcome. Some of your companions have taken the alarm, and abandoned you. They swam through the fatal current, and are safe. You all may do the same. We have exhausted our line. Your circles in the fatal influence are becoming narrower. We entreat you to heed your danger,- it is positively real. We repeat our entreaties. We sound a fresh alarm. The parting ray of salvation - perhaps the last one is now falling upon your head. Let your numbers be lessened. Hinder not those who are ready to fly from perdition. Necessity and hope have been busy in inventing means for your rescue,- means never resorted to in ordinary emergency. Will nothing avail? Must you perish, for whom

Jesus died? Shall neither tears nor earnest cries avail?

Darkness is gathering around you fast. We may see you God have mercy upon the doomed then! But

no more.

hear it heaven, and earth, and hell, angels, men and devils,

they doom themselves! See, see, see! the doomed! the doomed! the doomed! Farewell! Perhaps before morning trembles over our sky you may have disappeared under skies of blackness and darkness, for ever and ever!

"WHO hath ears to hear, let him hear."- Matt. 13: 43.

What! the same text? Yes, the same text. There is much need for the cry it contains, as you shall hear.

1. The sinners of this town never had a fairer gale for heaven. Never had finer weather for the skies. It is sometimes said "it is a pity fair weather should do harm.” But I would join with another in saying it is a thousand pities to see miserably-blinded sinners go into everlasting darkness by the light of the Gospel. Alas, alas! so it is. Lord Jesus, interpose! The people of this town never had a better chance to be saved. Never better aids to work out their salvation. The Sun of Righteousness seems now in his meridian glory over us. But there are days of darkness coming. Solomon says God has set the day of prosperity and the day of adversity, "the one over against the other," and so urges consideration.-Eccles. 7: 14.

2. Again let me cry, "Who hath ears to hear, let him hear." Mercy and judgment follow each other closely as winter follows summer and autumn, or night follows day, or death life. Mercy rejected is sure to draw some judgment after it. Forget not that sentiment I quoted last night. "Eternity only can show how a Saviour freely