The next four years were spent under Captain Knill, on board of the 'Westmoreland,' trading between Hull and Quebec, America. Afterwards he spent several years in the Baltic trade. When the steam packet, 'Magna Charter,' began to run between Hull and New Holland, John became a sailor on board and afterwards Captain of the vessel. He next became Captain of a steamer that ran between Barton and Hessle. He then sailed in a vessel between Hull and America. In 1845, he entered the service of the Hull Dock Company, in which situation he remained up to the time of his death.

Fifty years ago our sailors, generally speaking, were a grossly wicked class of men. A kind of special license to indulge in all kinds of sin was given to the rough and hardy men whose occupation was on the mighty deep. Landsmen, while comfortably seated round a winter's fire, listening to the storm and tempest raging without, were not only struck with amazement at the courage and endurance of sailors in exposing themselves to the elements, but, influenced by their imagination, magnified the energy and bravery that overcame them. Peasants gazed with wild astonishment on the village lad returned, after a few years absence, a veritable 'Jack tar.' The credulity of these delighted listeners tempted Jack to 'spin his yarns,' and tell his tales of nautical adventures, real or imaginary. Hence, he was everywhere greeted with a genial and profuse hospitality. The best seat in the house, the choicest drinks in the cellar, were for Jack. Our ships of commerce, like so many shuttles, were rapidly weaving together the nations of the earth in friendly amity. Besides, a romantic sentiment and feeling, generated to a great extent by the victories which our invincible navy had won during the battles of the Nile, and perpetuated by Nelson's sublime battle cry, 'England expects every man to do his duty,' helped to swell the tide of sympathy in favour of the sailor. Under these circumstances Jack became Society's indulged and favoured guest; and yet he remained outside of it. 'Peculiarities incident to his profession, and which ought to have been corrected by education and religion, became essential features of character in the public mind. A sailor became an idea—a valuable menial in the service of the commonwealth, but as strange and as eccentric in his habits as the walk of some amphibious animal, or web-footed aquatic on land. To purchase a score of watches, and to fry them in a pan with beer, to charter half a dozen coaches, and invite foot passengers inside, while he 'kept on deck,' or in any way to scatter his hard earnings of a twelvemonth in as many hours, was considered frolicsome thoughtlessness, which was more than compensated by the throwing away of a purse of gold to some poor woman in distress.' Land-sharks and crimps beset the young sailor in every sea port; low music halls and dingy taverns and beer shops presented their attractions; and there the 'jolly tars' used to swallow their poisonous compounds, and roar out ribald songs, and dance their clumsy fandangoes with the vilest outcasts of society. 'It is a necessary evil,' said some; 'it is the very nature of sailors, poor fellows.' While the thoughtless multitude were immensely tickled with Jack's mad antics and drolleries. Generous to a fault to all who were in need, Jack's motto was:—

Amid such scenes as these our friend spent a great portion of his youth and early manhood. The loud ribald laugh, the vile jest and song, the midnight uproar, the drunken row, the flaunting dress and impudent gestures of the wretched women who frequent our places of ungodly resort—amid such scenes as these, did he waste his precious time and squander away much of his hard earned money. But though a wild and reckless sailor, his warm and generous heart was ever impelling him to noble and generous deeds. If he sometimes became the dupe of the designing, and indulged in the wild revelry of passion, at other times he gave way to an outburst of generosity bordering on prodigality, relieving the necessities of the poor, or true to the instincts of a British tar standing up to redress the wrongs of the oppressed.

CHAPTER II.

HIS CONVERSION AND INNER EXPERIENCE.

When far away on the sea, and while mingling in all the dissipated scenes of a sailor's life, John would sometimes think of those youthful days—the only sunny spot in his life's journey—when he 'walked in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost.' Serious thoughts would rise in his mind, and those seeds of truth, sown in his heart while listening to Clowes and Oxtoby, and which for years seemed dead, would be quickened into life. He had often wished to hear Mr. Clowes once more, and on seeing a placard announcing that he would preach at the opening of the Nile Street Chapel, Hull (1846), he hastened home, and, sailor-like, quaintly observed to his wife, 'Why that old Clowes is living and is going to preach. Let's go and hear him.' On the following Sunday he went to the chapel, but it was so many years since he had been to God's house that he now felt ashamed to enter, and for some minutes he wandered to and fro in front of the chapel. At length he ventured to go in, and sat down in a small pew just within the door. His mind was deeply affected, and ere the next Sabbath he had taken two sittings in the chapel.

About this time, the Rev. Charles Jones, of blessed memory, began his career as a missionary in Hull. He laboured during six years, with great success, in the streets, and yards, and alleys of the town; and scores now in heaven and hundreds on their way thither, will, through all eternity, have to bless God that Primitive Methodism ever sent him to labour in Hull. The Rev. G. Lamb prepared the people to receive him by styling him 'a bundle of love.' John went to hear him, and charmed by his preaching and allured by the grace of God, his religious feelings were deepened. Soon after this, and through the labours of Mr. Lamb, he obtained peace with God, and I have heard him say at our lovefeasts, 'Jones knocked me down, but it was Mr. Lamb that picked me up.'

Being invited by two Christian friends to attend a class meeting on the following Sabbath morning, he went. As he sat in that old room in West Street Chapel, a thousand gloomy thoughts and fearful apprehensions crossed his mind, and casting many a glance towards the door, he 'felt as though he must dart out.' But when Mr. John Sissons, the leader of the class, said, with his usual kind smile and sympathizing look:—'I'm glad to see you,' and then proceeded to give him suitable council and encouragement, John's heart melted and his eyes filled with tears; and, on being invited to repeat his visit on the following Sabbath, he at once consented. One of the friends who had accompanied him to the class, said, 'Now God has sown the seed of grace in your heart and the enemy will try to sow tares, but if you resist the devil he will flee from you,' and scarcely had John left the room ere the battle began. 'Oh, what a fool' he thought, 'I was to promise to go again,' and when he got home he said to his wife, 'I've been to class, and what is worse, I have promised to go again, and I dar'nt run off.' Mrs. Ellerthorpe, who had begun to watch with some interest her husband's struggles, wisely replied, 'Go, for you cannot go to a better place, I intend to go to Mr. Jones' class.' All the