leading principle of this system was verified in my own mind to the life. I did not become a Christian by my own effort, but by the free bounty and choice of God."

This is a witness to the fact that in the conversion, and in the preservation of the character of some of the "vessels of mercy" the Almighty is pleased to work in a way both mysterious and marvellous.

We heartily wish we could give the details of Havelock's conversion as clearly; and his decision for New Covenant Truths, as brilliantly, as that of Rhodes appeared; but although we cannot, we dare not think that anything short of invincible grace in his heart, could have produced those fruits and vidences of godliness which ever and anon in his life appeared.

John Marshman, Esq., the brother of the deceased Major's widow, has written the best Sketch of Havelock's career, that we have seen; but even this is much more full of his life as a warrior, than of his life as a Christian. The March and April numbers of the Baptist Magazine, published by Pewtress and Co., 4, Ave Maria Lane, contains this Sketch, and with the April number they have given a first-rate excellent likeness of Henry Havelock, engraved by Cochran, from the original portrait belonging to Sir William Norris; and we do not suppose a better history of Havelock's career will be given than the Baptist Magazine has given; but the whole of what may be termed proofs of his Christianity are so generally known, that we consider it useless to quote them.

A zealous young Lecturer-Arthur Mursell, of Manchester has published "An Oration" on Havelock's death, in which there is much that is wild and irrelevant; still, upon the whole, it is an out-spoken argument in defence of the great fact, that Major-General Havelock was not only a noble and honourable warrior, but, better than all-he was in heart and life, in soul, and in undaunted service, a follower of, and a true believer in, our Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST.

Havelock's thirty years' association with death, and the cause of his triumph in death is spoken of by Mr. Mursell in the following

terms:-
:-

prime, and down into the evening of his
days; death in the camp, from sore disease
and venomous infection; death on the march
from hard fatigue and wasting toil and ser-
vice; death in the trenches, from the cold and
damp and griping weather; death in the de-
sert, from the heat, and dry and parching
thirst; death on the field, from wounds and
gaping gashes from the foeman's sword;
death in the garrison, from the gaunt grip of
Famine, when the granaries were low and
succour far away; death in the hospital, where
the groans of dying veterans echoed from the
gory beds; death in the hot fight, where the
young and brave poured out their blood as a
libation at the shrine of freedom, and where
the warm tide of life spirted from many a
beneath an Indian sun; death written in white
valiant heart, and glistened in a ghastly pool
and purple characters on the upturned brow
of young and old, staring from the eyeballs
of yonder fallen officer upon whose manly
breast the stars of honor gleam, death here,
death there, death every where-this has been
Havelock's companion through bis three-score
years. He saw how soldiers died; he saw
the brave meet death without a shudder; he
saw the proud and noble sons of England
front, and bare an unfluttering heart to the
walk to the cannon's mouth with dauntless
keen blade of cruel foes; he saw how cowards
died, for he heard the craven Sepoy, whose
foul hands were already fuming with the
warm blood of little children and of helpless
women, shriek for mercy from his scawling
conquerer, before the avenger's sword dis-
And he
missed him to the shades below.
showed how Christians die, as well as how
heroes live, for in that room at Lucknow-the
garrison he defended so well-the scene of his
last struggle, when the relief he had been
longing for has come with the Highland files
Lucknow there stands beside the hero's bed a
of conquering Campbell, in that room at
messenger with a happier relief and a more
welcome deliverance; once more the General
looks at death, his old familiar comrade, and
now its bony finger points at him; he meets
the summons with a smile, for behind the
monster who is beckoning to him he can see
a Saviour's beaming face; and calling to his
son who stood beside him, he exclaims-
Come here, my son, and see how a Christian
man can die.' Aye, England! thy cherished
hero was a Christian. Don't hear his name
reviled, nor let any take the brightest gem

out of his crown!

"We all know the true and lion-hearted "Look at him with his regiment, calling character that he maintained throughout his them to prayer; look at him training them life, and the faithful trust in Christ he shewed like children to sobriety and virtue; look at in death. He had been staring right into the him trusted by his leaders in all straits, and grinning teeth of the grim monster during trusted as a saint, and as a leader of a band thirty years, seeing the imprint of his hoof of saints. An emergency arose, and the corps upon the stark faces of a thousand gory car- whom the General demanded, were reported cases as they lay bleaching in the field; but to be too drunk for action. "Call out Havehe ever leaned upon the arm of Him who lock's saints, (says he,) they are always ready, abolished death, and while he purchased im- and his men are never drunk." All honour mortality on earth with the prowess of his to Saint Havelock the man who walked trusty-sword, he looked beyond the medal, or humbly with his God, despite the revilings of the cross, or star, to the brighter immortality a dissolute fraternity. All honour to Saint of heaven. Death in a thousand ghastly Havelock! Every inch a Christian, despite shapes had been his comrade through his the idiot pamphleteers who ask the question,

|

“A Mother's Prayer for the Conversion of her Son :"

A POWERFUL TESTIMONY DELIVERED BY AN ENGLISH SAILOR IN THE MIDST OF

ONE OF THE

GREAT REVIVAL MEETINGS NOW HOLDING IN NEW YORK: With Notes upon the Religious Awakenings, now spreading through America.

We have the fullest details of the such a religion will never do a soul any real great awakening and the marvellous good.

meetings for preaching and for prayer; Among a large quantity of other reading now holding in all parts of America; matter on the subject, I find the following which we shall (D.V.) issue in a Supple-cheering article, entitled mentary Number for one penny. We can only give the following remarksand one case of conversion, which is worth a million worlds. We call special

attention to this

MR. BANKS.-DEAR SIR.-For the last few months, there has been a great stir among re. ligious professors, of different denominations, in this Country, on the subject of revivals; and if the accounts published be correct, there has been a great accession to their numbers. A stranger reading the statements of what is called the "Religious Awakening," would be almost ready to conclude, that nearly all the inhabitants of the American Continent were being converted and getting religious: indeed, in one place in Connecticut, one of the New England States, it is said that "the entire adult population, without exception, have embraced religion."

"A SAILOR'S STORY."

The following is a verbatim report of the Sailor's conversion :—

At one of the recent prayer-meetings in this city, a sailor rose and narrated to the congregation the circumstances of his conversion, as follows. He was a young man, a native of England, with an intelligent face his remarks were received with great attenand an impressive manner of speech; and tion. He said:

the

"I am a stranger here, and such a scene as have been altogether new to me. Nine weeks this is one that until very recently would ago I was converted, and since then have become in some degree familiar with prayermeetings and church-services, though before been a very wicked man. For one so young, that I knew very little of either. I have I have gone into great dissipation, and have committed almost every known sin. I can hardly imagine a person to have gone a greater round of wickedness than I. I am youngest of a large family of children. My father is dead, but my mother is living. She is an old woman, now more than 75 years of age. She is a devoted Christian, and has always tried to bring up her children to be like her, and some of them have followed her example. Several of my brothers and sisters are earnest and sincere Christians, who, with salvation. But I could never endure a single her, have oftentimes at home prayed for my thought of religion. Whenever the subject was mentioned to me, I immediately repelled it, and repelled it often with an horrid oath, The thought that the members of the family prayed for me always made me angry. I was warned against my dissipation, but went more into it the more I was warned. I grew more I tried to be a great sinner. At last I deterand more wicked every day, out of spite, and mined to leave home. I wanted to get away from the influence of a praying mother. I

It is a remarkable circumstance, to see men of business, during business hours, in the middle of the day, leaving their different avocations, to attend what is called a "union prayer meeting," in a City like New York, and that day after day, and week after week, and month after month, and for aught I can see at present, it may continue for year after year; although, I must confess, I have but very little expectation that any lasting benefit will attend this undue religious excitement, I shall be greatly mistaken if the major part of those, who are said to be converted at these prayer meetings, do not need to be converted again. So far as I can judge from what I have heard, read and seen, (I have attended several of the meetings for my own satisfac-wanted to be free from all restraint, so that tion in the matter) it is all depending on the will of the creature, and you, Mr. Editor, very well know that a religion which a man can take up just when he chooses, a man can throw down again, just when he pleases; and

I might indulge myself in whatever I chose. to my own satisfaction. My mother implored me not to go. I told her I was going to sea, and would go. Her eyes filled with whatever sins I had, I had some love for my tears, and she could say nothing more. With mother, and I gave way before her tears. She

·

One of my messmates came at the call. I asked him to get a lantern, and to go to my trunk and get a Bible with a letter in it. 'Ah,' said he, with a sneer, now you're sick, you begin to be a coward; what do you want with that book?' 'I don't want that book, but the letter in it,' I replied. In a few minutes he brought a lantern, opened my trunk, and handed me the Bible and letter. He then left the lantern on my bunk and went away. I sat up a little in the bed, and opened the sealed package. The very first words that I caught brought tears to my eyes. They were my mother's words- My dear Tom.' I read the letter carefully from beginning to end. It was a mother's prayer for the conversion of her son. I had been miserable before, but those words made me more wretched than ever. I then began for the first time to feel remorse for my sinfulness, and to have a fear and dread of judgment. I turned about in my bunk in agony which I cannot describe. I had been told that I could not live, and now I was afraid to die. What could I do? I began to pray! This was what I had always had a horror of before, but I was forced to come to it at last. I prayed to God to let me get well again, and made a solemn promise to Him, on my bed, that if he would only raise me up I would reform my life. The burden of my sins almost crushed me. Even if I had not been sick, it seemed as if I should have died of these. I continued to pray, and when it was expected that I would die, I was still alive, and I was kept alive, and instead of growing worse I grew better. The doctor told me then that I had had a narrow escape, and that I had been lying at death's door. As I got better, I got more and more comfort. The light gradually dawned in upon my dark soul, and its darkness was dispelled. At last, one day there came a sudden joy-a sweet peace-that wrapped round me like sunshine. My heart was happy, and while I was won

asked me to promise her that I would never go to sea until I could first obtain her consent. I assented, and remained awhile at home. A young man, who was my companion in dissipation, left England and came to this country, and after he had been here a short time returned in the same ship. He told me that I could enjoy myself grandly if I would go away from home as he had done, and that there was all manner of pleasure in New-York. I again determined to go to sea in company with him. My mother seeing that I was bent on going, could not bear the thought that I should leave without her consent, and so she gave it. I accordingly made preparations to ship at Liverpool. Just before I started, which was about the first of last December, my mother gave me a sealed letter and a small Bible to put in my trunk, and told me not to open the letter until the 21st of December. That was her birth-day, when she would be 75 years old. She gave me her blessing, which I shrank from receiving, and I went off. As soon as I got clear of home I felt at liberty. I said to myself, Now there will be no one to pray for me, and I sha'n't be annoyed with Bibles and texts.' I left home without any sadness, but rather with a kind of wicked pleasure; and when I got on board ship, I soon forgot all about mother, and brothers, and sisters. After we had set sail, and were well on with the voyage, a storm arose that was very violent. Just about this time I was taken very sick-not with sea sickness, but a dangerous fever. I lay in my bunk, tossing about with the ship, as wretched and as miserable as a man could be. The doctor told me that I was at the point of death, and that if I had any preparation to make for eternity I had better make it, for I had not long to live. This he repeated also in the cabin among the passengers, one of whom, an aged man, came to see me. I remember his face; it was all kindness; but I hated the sight of him. He came with a book in his hand, and said to me: 'Youngdering what it was, the mercy of Christ was man, you are almost gone; I have come to read to you something out of the Word of God.' I looked up at him a moment, and said in a rage: Hand me the book;' and when he offered it to me I took it and put it to my lips, and made a solemn oath that I would have nothing to do with God or with religion. I told him that if be read to me I would not listen, and bid him with an oath to leave me alone. He then went away, and I lay stark alone in my bunk. It seemed to me that I was at that moment more miserable than I had ever been before in all my life; I do not refer to my bodily sickness, but to my distress of mind. It was evening, and there was no light near me, but all was as dark as midnight. Suddenly the thought came over my mind that it was the 21st of December, and I remembered my mother's letter. I could not rise and get it, for I was not able, and my first impulse was to call one of my messmates to get it for me. But I remembered that it was between the lids of my Bible. I was ashamed to let any one know that I wanted the Bible; and I did not want that, but my mother's letter. I lay for some time, and at last determined to call some one.

made known to me. I felt the consciousness
that my sins were pardoned. I began to be
stirred with a new life. Whereas before
I hated my home, now my heart yearned
toward it. My mother-oh, I wanted to see
her, and to put my arms around her neck.
I wanted to tell her that I had read her
letter, and what I had found in it.
And my
brothers and sisters-I had no more desire to
be separated from them, but with my whole
soul Ilonged to see them, and to tell them
that I had found the Saviour. My joy con-
tinued, and I told my shipmates of it. Some
of them laughed at me, but I didn't care for
that; I knew in whom I believed.' At last
we came into port; it was on a Saturday
morning. On the next day I found the Ma-
riner's Church, and, my kind friends, I have
been here ever since. I am happy to be here,
and can only thank God that he has led me
to himself, and has led me to you in so won-
derful a way. I am waiting here to go home,
and see my aged mother. She is very near
the grave, and I want to throw myself upon
her neck before she dies, and thank her, and
thank God for her prayers for a wayward son."