But, let the captains and owners show a veneration for the Lord's day, and seamen will respect it more. It was, therefore, with pleasure that Mr. S. seconded the motion of thanks to those captains and owners who had dared to be singular, and whose example, he trusted, would be followed by many others.

Mr. S. concluded by entreating the prayers of the Christian public in behalf of these noble societies.

The President then rose and stated, that some pecuniary aid was wanted, to defray the expenses of Bethel flags, printing reports, providing tracts, &c.: and that a collection would then be taken up for that purpose. But he wished it to be distinctly understood, that the society did not ask the audience so much for their money, as their prayers and their influence. He wished no person to contribute any thing more than was perfectly convenient, and that as a free-will offering.

After the collection was taken up, the Rev. J. M. MATTHEWS made the concluding prayer; and the whole exercises were closed with the Christian Doxology and Benediction.

The audience was probably the most numerous that has ever assembled on the anniversary occasion of any of the religious societies in this city. The Bethel flag, which was presented by the London Bethel Union to the Port Society, and which had been the signal for convening the first Bethel prayer meeting in America, was hung around the pulpit, and a convenient platform erected in front of it, for the accommodation of the officers of the Bethel Union and Port Society, and for the clergy, many of whom, of different denominations, attended the meeting.

MARINERS' CHURCH.

THE Society for promoting the Gospel among Seamen have invited the Rev. John Truair, of Cherry Valley, to preach in the mariners' church and labour among seamen. Mr. Truair has been in the city a few weeks, and preached with great acceptance, we believe, to all who have had the privilege of hearing him.

The Board feel confident in making an appeal to the public for the sum necessary to discharge the additional obligations under which the offer made to Mr. Truair will place them, if he should conclude to remain, which we hope he will, for a few months at least. It is well known that the society is in debt about 7000 dollars, without any income. There are not a dozen annual subscribers, and the collections taken up in the church have been insufficient to pay the current expenses. The great importance of affording the means of religious instruction to seamen, seems now to be generally acknowledged by those who have at all examined the subject; and the truly catholic plan of this institution is generally applauded. This is well, but the Board want more solid testimony of public approbation and support; they want individuals to feel more on this subject, and see what they are severally bound to do for the cause of poor sailors; to estimate the obligations they are under to their God, by the privileges they enjoy, and come forward now and give what they can. If they are able to give but little, no more will be required of them; if they have much, let them give liberally as unto the Lord.

A book is open at THIS OFFICE to receive subscriptions for paying the minister's salary, and also for annual subscriptions of five dollars, and life subscriptions of fifty dollars, and donations of any sum.

SIR,-In the Christian Herald, a few months since, I read with pleasure some observations, dated on the "banks of the Hudson," on the importance of private Christians exerting themselves to promote the prosperity of the Redeemer's kingdom. This subject is one which has engaged the attention of the Christian community, to a considerable extent, in that part of the country where I reside: and although at first it was somewhat difficult to overcome prejudices in the minds of even good people, yet so great have been the blessings consequent upon the labours of the brethren of many of our churches, that even prejudice itself has ceased its opposition and is silent. Could a plain statement of the situation of those churches where revivals of religion have existed, and the dealings of God with the churches, be laid before the public, specifying the means by which they were roused to effort and to prayer, it might be expected that in those parts of the United States where they have not been visited with these times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, where they have only heard the sound thereof at a distance, that Christians would be stimulated to labour and to pray in a similar manner, and that similar blessings would be given. It is to be feared that this statement will not be made, except in a few solitary instances; or that so many circumstances will be crowded together, and related in a manner so general, that the effect produced will be faint, and the narration soon forgotten.

It has appeared to me, Mr. Editor, that we are not warranted by the Bible, in believing that the latter-day glory will be ushered in by miraculous displays of Almighty power, but that we are to look to the members of the Christian church, including their ministers, as the instruments by which this immense change is to be effected in the moral world. And are not these means, with the blessing of Heaven, sufficient to evangelize the whole family of Adam? What may not be accomplished by the uth contained in "the word of God," which is "the sword of the

rit," when distributed by the arm of Christian energy, explained and enforced by the heart of brotherly love, and accompanied by the prayer of faith? "Who art thou, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain: and he shall bring forth the head stone thereof with shoutings, crying grace, grace unto it.”

VOL. VIII.

73

My object in this communication, is to give a very brief account of a revival of religion, which has taken place within a short period; and if I can persuade those who may read this article, that one Christian may do vast good by persevering labour and humble prayer, when attended with the divine blessing, I hope they will be induced to go and do likewise.

It is about eight months, since a christian brother removed from NewHaven to a town within two days journey. He found a church of Christ, and a minister, in the place which he had fixed upon as a future residence, but they were asleep; the wise and the foolish virgins slumbered together, and they had slumbered for many years. He immediately began by conference and prayer meetings, and by conversation, to arouse those about him to a sense of duty and a sense of danger. What success has attended his labours, and those of Christians in the place after they awaked, I leave you to judge. The facts I give you as they are stated in a letter lately received. "Every moment is precious with us, yet I cannot delay any longer of informing you of our interesting situation; but I must be concise. God is displaying his mighty power in the midst of us: the prayers that have been offered for us fare answered. More than twenty are this moment indulging a hope of pardon through a bleeding Saviour. We have had two anxious meetings; at one, twenty-seven attended; at the other, twenty-four; and all appear more or less impressed with the importance of attending immediately to the concerns of their souls. At a conference meeting the other evening, four hundred attended; and many, probably two hundred, went away because they could not get in; and the evening after, we had full as many, if not more. Indeed there was not a vacant seat, nor a place to

stand."

Banks of the Connecticut, January, 1822.

For the Christian Herald.

TWO SCENES IN VIRGINIA.

C.

ON a lovely morning toward the close of spring, I found myself in a very beautiful part of the Great Valley of Virginia. Spurred onward by impatience, I beheld the sun rising in splendour and changing the blue tints on the tops of the lofty Alleghany mountains into streaks of purest gold, and nature seemed to smile in the freshness of beauty. A ride of about fifteen miles, and a pleasant woodland ramble of about two, brought myself and companion to the great Natural Bridge.

Although I had been anxiously looking forward to this time, and my mind had been considerably excited by expectation, yet I was not altogether prepared for this visit. This great work of nature is considered by many as the second great curiosity in our country, Niagara falls being the first. I do not expect to convey a very correct idea of this bridge, for no description can do this.

The Natural Bridge is entirely the work of God. It is of solid limestone, and connects two huge mountains together by a most beautiful arch, over which there is a great wagon road. Its length from one mountain to the other is nearly 80 feet, its width about 35, its thickness 45, and its perpendicular height over the water is not far from 220 feet.

A few bushes grow on its top, by which the traveller may hold himself as he looks over. On each side of the stream, and near the bridge, are rocks projecting ten or fifteen feet over the water, and from 200 to 300 feet from its surface, all of limestone. The visiter cannot give so good a description of this bridge as he can of his feelings at the time. He softly creeps out on a shaggy projecting rock, and looking down a chasm of from 40 to 60 feet wide, he sees, nearly 300 feet below, a wild stream foaming and dashing against the rocks beneath, as if terrified at the rocks above. This stream is called Cedar Creek. The visiter here sees trees under the arch, whose height is 70 feet; and yet to look down upon them, they appear like small bushes of perhaps two or three feet in height. I saw several birds fly under the arch, and they looked like insects. I threw down a stone, and counted 34 before it reached the water. All hear of heights and of depths, but they here see what is high, and they tremble, and feel it to be deep. The awful rocks present their everlasting butments, the water murmurs and foams far below, and the two mountains rear their proud heads on each side, separated by a channel of sublimity. Those who view the sun, the moon, and the stars, and allow that none but God could make them, will here be impressed that none but an Almighty God could build a bridge like this.

The view of the bridge from below, is as pleasing as the top view is awful. The arch from beneath would seem to be about two feet in thickness. Some idea of the distance from the top to the bottom may be formed, from the fact, that as I stood on the bridge and my companion beneath, neither of us could speak with sufficient loudness to be heard by the other. A man from either view does not appear more than four or five inches in height.

As we stood under this beautiful arch, we saw the place where visiters have often taken the pains to engrave their names upon the rock. Here Washington climbed up 25 feet and carved his own name, where it still remains. Some, wishing to immortalize their names, have engraven them deep and large, while others have tried to climb up and insert them high in this book of fame.

A few years since, a young man, being ambitious to place his name above all others, came very near losing his life in the attempt. After much fatigue he climbed up as high as possible, but found that the person who had before occupied his place was taller than himself, and consequently had placed his name above his reach. But he was not thus to be discouraged. He opens a large jack-knife, and in the soft lime-stone, began to cut places for his hands and feet. With much patience and industry he worked his way upwards, and succeeded in carving his name higher than the most ambitious had done before him. He could now triumph, but his triumph was short, for he was placed in such a situation that it was impossible to descend, unless he fell upon the ragged rocks beneath him. There was no house near, from whence his companions could get assistance. He could not long remain in that condition, and, what was worse, his friends were too much frightened to do any thing for his relief. They looked upon him as already dead, expecting every moment to see him precipitated upon the rocks below and dashed to pieces. Not so with himself. He determined to ascend. Accordingly he plies himself with his knife, cutting places for his hands and feet, and gradually ascended with incredible labour. He exerts his

every muscle. His life was at stake, and all the terrors of death rose before him. He dared not to look downwards, lest his head should become dizzy; and perhaps on this circumstance his life depended. His companions stood at the top of the rock exhorting and encouraging him. His strength was almost exhausted; but a bare possibility of saving his life still remained, and hope, the last friend of the distressed, had not yet forsaken him. His course upwards was rather obliquely than perpendicularly. His most critical moment had now arrived. He had ascended considerably more than 200 feet, and had still further to rise, when he felt himself fast growing weak. He thought of his friends and all his earthly joys, and he could not leave them. He thought of the grave, and dared not meet it. He now made his last effort, and succeeded. He had cut his way not far from 250 feet from the water, in a course almost perpendicular; and in a little less than two hours, his anxious companions reached him a pole from the top and drew him up. They received him with shouts of joy; but he himself was completely exhausted. He immediately fainted away on reaching the spot, and it was some time before he could be recovered!

It was interesting to see the path up these awful rocks, and to follow in imagination this bold youth as he thus saved his life. His name stands far above all the rest, a monument of hardihood, of rashness, and of folly.

We staid around this seat of grandeur about four hours; but from my own feelings I should not have supposed it over half an hour. There is a little cottage near, lately built; here we were desired to write our names as visiters of the bridge, in a large book kept for this purpose. Two large volumes were nearly filled in this manner already. Having immortalized our names by enrolling them in this book, we slowly and silently returned to our horses, wondering at this great work of nature; and we could not but be filled with astonishment at the amazing power of Him, who can clothe himself in wonder and terror, or throw around his works a mantle of sublimity.

About three days ride from the Natural Bridge brought us to a little place called Port Republic, about twenty miles from the town of Staunton. Here we prepared ourselves to visit another curiosity. The shower was now over, which had wet us to the skin-the sun was pouring down his most scorching rays-the heavy thunder had gone by; we threw around our delighted eyes, and beheld near us the lofty Alleghany rearing his shaggy head. The south branch of the Shenandoah River, with its banks covered with beautiful trees, was murmuring at our feet-a lovely plain stretched below us as far as the eye could reach; and we, with our guide, were now standing about half way up a hill about 200 feet high, and so steep that a biscuit may be thrown from its top into the river at its foot-we were standing at the mouth of WARE'S CAVE. This cavern derives its name from Barnet Ware, who discovered it in the year 1804. It is situated near Madison's Cave, so celebrated, though the latter cannot be compared with the former. It would seem as if in this mountain nature had strewed her beauties with a hand so prodigal, that it creates not only pleasure, but astonishment also.

There were three of us, besides our guide, with lighted torches, and our loins girded, now ready to descend into the cave. We took our