Note 2 — THE HORNINGSHAM SAILOR.

Covey was one of the bravest of the brave, and as wicked as he was brave. Mr. Pratt, in the second volume of his Gleanings, gives us the following account of him:—

As the two fleets were coming into action, the noble admiral, to save the lives of his men, ordered them to lie flat on the deck, till, being nearer the enemy, their firing might do the more execution. The Dutch ships at this time were pouring their broadsides into the Venerable as she passed down part of the Dutch fleet, in order to break their line. This stout-hearted and wicked Covey, heaped in rapid succession the most dreadful imprecations on the eyes, and limbs, and souls of what he called his cowardly shipmates, for lying down to avoid the balls of the Dutch. He refused to obey the order, till, fearing the authority of an officer not far from him, he in part complied, by leaning over a cask which stood near, till the word of command was given to fire. At the moment of rising, a bar-shot carried away one of his legs, and the greater part of the other; but so instantaneous was the stroke, though he was sensible of something like a jar in his limbs, he knew not that he had lost a leg till his stump came to the deck, and he fell. He was sent home to Haslar hospital, with many others; and soon after he left it, he went on a Sabbath evening to Orange Street Chapel, Portsea, where he heard the Rev. Mr. Griffin preach from Mark v. 15. "He listened," says his biographer, "with attention and surprise, wondering how the minister should know him among so many hundred people; or who could have told him his character and state of mind. This astonishment was still more increased when he found him describe, as he thought, the whole of his life, and even his secret sins. Some weeks after this," says Mr. Griffin, "he called and related to me the whole of his history and experience. He was surprised to find that I had never received any information about him at the time the sermon was preached which so exactly met his case. Something more than twelve months after this time he was received a member of our church, having given satisfactory evidences of being a genuine and consistent Christian. A few weeks since, hearing he was ill, I went to visit him. When I entered his room, he said, 'Come in, thou man of God! I have been longing to see you, and to tell you the happy state of my mind. I believe I shall soon die; but death now has no terrors in it. The sting of death is sin; but, thanks be to God, he has given me the victory through Jesus Christ. I am going to heaven! O! what has Jesus done for me, one of the vilest sinners of the human race.' A little before he died, when he thought himself within a few hours of dissolution, he said, 'I have often thought it was a hard thing to die, but now I find it a very easy thing to die. The presence of Christ makes it easy. The joy I feel from a sense of the love of God to sinners, from the thought of being with the Saviour, of being free from a sinful heart, and of enjoying the presence of God for ever, is more than I can express! O! how different my thoughts of God, and of myself, and of another world, from what they were when I lost my precious limbs on board the Venerable! It was a precious loss to me! If I had not lost my legs, I should perhaps have lost my soul.' With elevated and clasped hands, and with eyes glistening with earnestness, through the tears which flowed down his face, he said, 'O, my dear minister! I pray you, when I am dead, to preach a funeral sermon for a poor sailor; and tell others, especially sailors, who are as ignorant and wicked as I was, that poor blaspheming Covey found mercy with God, through faith in the blood of Christ! Tell them, that since I have found mercy, none that seek it need to despair. You know better than I do what to say to them. But, O! be in earnest with them; and may the Lord grant that my wicked neighbours and fellow-sailors may find mercy as well as Covey!' He said much more; but the last words he uttered were, 'Hallelujah! hallelujah!'"