ical
officers were generally the best informed in the ship. But he was more
than the above: he was a naturalist, a man of profound research, and
well informed upon most points--of an amiable and gentle disposition,
and a sincere Christian.

It would naturally be inferred that those whose profession it is to
investigate the human frame, and constantly have before their eyes the
truth that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, would be more inclined
than others to acknowledge the infinite wisdom and power. But this is
too often found not to be the case, and it would appear as if the old
scholium, that "too much familiarity breeds contempt," may be found to
act upon the human mind even when in communion with the Deity. With
what awe does the first acquaintance with death impress us! What a
thrill passes through the living, as it bends over the inanimate body,
from which the spirit has departed! The clay that returns to the dust
from which it sprung, the tenement that was lately endued with volition
and life, the frame that exhibited a perfection of mechanism, deriding
all human power, and confounding all human imagination, now an inanimate
mass, rapidly decomposing, and soon to become a heap of corruption.

Strong as the feeling is, how evanescent it becomes, when once
familiarised! It has no longer power over the senses, and the soldier
and sailor pillow themselves on the corpse with perfect indifference, if
not with a jest. So it is with those who are accustomed to post-mortem
arrangements, who wash and lay out the body previous to interment.

Yet, although we acknowledge that habit will remove the first
impressions of awe, how is it that the minute investigation upon which
conviction ought to be founded, should too often have the contrary
effect from that which it should produce? Is it because mystery, the
parent of awe, is in a certain degree removed?

Faith, says the apostle, is the evidence of things not seen. There
would be no merit in believing what is perfectly evident to the senses.
Yet some would argue that the evidence ought to be more clear and
palpable. If so, would not the awe be also removed, and would religion
gain by it? We have enough imparted to convince us that all is right;
and is not that which is hidden or secret purposely intended to produce
that awe, without which the proud mind of man would spurn at infinite
wisdom?

The above digression had nearly caused me to omit that Macallan