A gentleman, who was looking after some crews that had been wrecked in the storm of Sept. 1st, 1833, went into a room at the public house where they were staying, and found one young man alone, with a book before him. He observed it was a bible, issued by our British and Foreign Society, and asked him if he was reading it. The young man said, “Yes, he did not know that he could read a better book, for it was worth the saving.” He then said, he had bought it “because it was so cheap, only three shillings, and a very fine book!” Our friend remarked to him, that he “must know such bibles could not be built for that price, but that it was afforded by means of a subscription.” This he said he knew, and then observed, that sailors were now reading their bibles at his port, Shields, more than they used to do. The gentleman said, he hoped that they were not hypocrites. “No,” the sailor said, “he thought not; he believed the prayer meetings and bible readings at the time of the cholera, had had a real effect upon numbers of them.” We would earnestly recommend our associates not to lose the opportunities, which their proximity to a dangerous coast too frequently affords, of applying the word of God to the comfort of the ship-wrecked mariner, and of fixing religious impressions which may have arisen in hours of peril. We possess a small depôt of Dutch and French testaments, for the use of foreigners under such circumstances, and have occasionally found them acceptable. Our local position also calls for our unremitting efforts to enlighten our fishermen, whose lives are so often in jeopardy. The precariousness of their situation is an argument to which persons of this class will be found peculiarly accessible, when pressed to acquaint themselves betimes with the way of salvation. Fishermen, too, have many spare hours, while waiting for the tide, or detained by bad weather, on shore or in harbour: we remember the pleasure with which a fisherman, who had lately learnt to read, spoke to us of the delight he enjoyed in spelling out a chapter of the testament, in the cuddy of his herring boat, during many dreary winter evenings that he was moored in Boston Bay.