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that if he could keep the broken plank in its place he might stop the incoming flood. So he sat himself upon it, and braced his feet against the cask, and then called for help. But he was too far away; so low down, with such a mass of cargo about him, that his voice scarcely reached other ears than his own. Some of the men heard him, but thought he was talking to himself.
And there he eat, with his feet braced, for four-and-twenty dreary hours, with the water spurting all over him and drenching him to the very skin. He had several times thought of going to the hatchway and calling for help; but he knew that the broken plank would be forced in if he left it, for he could feel it heave beneath him. His limbs were racked with pain, but he would not give up. I asked him if he should not have given up if I had not come as I did. He answered that he could not have done it while he had life in him. He said he thought not of himself; he was ready to die, but he would save the rest if he could; and he had saved us, surely, seved us all, from a watery grave.
The boy lay sick almost unto death : but I nursed him with my own hands,nursed him all through his delirium; and when his reason returned, and he could sit up and talk, I bowed myeelf before him and humbly asked his pardon for all the wrong
I had done him. He threw his arms around my neck, and told me if I would be good to him he would never give me cause of offence, and added, as he sat up again, “ I am not a coward, I could not be a dog."
I never forgot those words ; and from that hour I have never struck a blow on board my ship. I make my men feel that they are men, that I so regard them, and that I wish to make them as comfortable and happy as possible ; and I have not failed to gain their respect and confidence. I give no undue license, but make my crews feel that they have a friend and superior in the same person. For nine years I have sailed in three different ships with the same crew. A man could not be hired to leave me, save for an officer's berth, and scarcely for that.
And Jack Withers remained with me thirteen years.
He was my cabin-boy, one of my foremost hands, my second mate, and the last time he sailed with me he refused the command of a new barque because he would not be separated from
A COW TEACHING THEOLOGY.
Old Mr. Bunnell was a peculiar man. When a little child he was peculiar. He didn't want to rock, or creep, or walk, like other children. He seemed to prefer to creep sideways or backward rather than forward. And when a boy no play suited him, no plan was exactly right. When other boys wanted to skate, he wanted to slide. When they wanted to slide down hill, he wanted to run on the ice. When they learned to read in the usual way, he turned his book bottom upwards, and learned to read in that way. Not that he
or morose, but peculiar. He wanted everything done his own way. When he became a man, and rode bareback when other people used the saddle, and milked his cow on the right side instead of the left, and used an ox harnessed with the old horse, why, people said, “ Mr. Bunnell is a peculiar man," and let it all pass.
But there were places where he found it hard to travel with other people. Especially was this so on the Sabbath. He never could enjoy the singing in the church, because the chorister always got hold of the wrong tunes; and he could not enjoy the prayers, because they were too long or too short, too abstract or too common. They were always out of joint. If the heathen were prayed for, he thought that the heathen at home might as well be remembered. If the nations were mentioned, he thought the Jews ought to be mentioned by name. In all cases, somebody was left out or put into the prayers that ought not to be. He didn't " mean to scold or find fault,” he said ; but he did “ love to have things done right.” Poor man! he never had them done right!
But a greater trouble was the preaehing, He professed to like his minister, and did like him as well as he could like anybody. But there were awful mistakes in his preaching. Sometimes a most important point, as he thought, was left out. Sometimes things were put in which nobody could understand. Sometimes things almost heretical were broached. What could he do ? He gave hints and propounded
time and pains."
queries to his minister, and his minister so THE BOY AND HIS SIXER. gently and kindly passed them off, that it
FROM THE GERMAN. seemed like pouring water on a duck's back.
A POOR old blind man sat at the corner At length, when patience seemed about of a street, and whenever he heard the to give out, and when he could stand it no sound of passing footsteps he raised his longer, he went over to his neighbour, imploring voice. He was dependent on the Deacon Wright, and poured his troubles gifts of charity he thus collected for his into his ear. . Now Deacon Wright was a
daily bread. Every sympathizing passerquiet man, said but little, but thought by gave him something, or if he had more. When he did speak, it was always nothing to give addregsed to him at least to the point. He knew all about Mr. the comforting words, “God be with Bunnell, had great patience with him, and a great regard for him. He used to say, The good men then always prayed for "Mr. Bunnell loves to growl, but he never
those who aided him. A boy who passed really bites."
him on his way to a neighbouring village, The Deacon was just going out to the whither he was going to visit an aunt, and barn to fodder his cattle, when Mr. celebrate a festal holiday, halted before the Bunnell came up and bid him “ Good blind man, and contemplated him with morning-if I can call such a cold morning
much sympathy. good."
“The poor man,” he thought within “Now, Deacon, I've just one word to himself, “is not able to behold the fields say. I can't bear our preaching! I get no
and meadows, and God's beautiful sun; good. There's so much in it that I don't before him all is dark as it is to me in the want, that I grow lean on it. I lose my darkest night; he cannot labour, and
would have to die of hunger if people did "Mr. Bannell, come in here. There's not assist him. How unfortunate am I, my cow Thankful : she can teach you that I have nothing to give him! When Í theology !"
am grown up, and am rich enough to do it, "A cow teach theology! What do you
I will give an alms to every poor man I mean?"
meet.” Thus thought the boy as he was "Now see. I have just thrown her a tenderly viewing the poor blind man before forkfal of hay. Just watch her. There him. now! She has found a stick-(you know “God bless you, good man!” he exsticks will get in the hay)—and see how
claimed at length, as he was about to pass che tosses it one side and leaves it, and The blind man recognised his voice as goes on to eat wbat is good. There again! that of a child, and said, “Thank you She has found a burdock, and she throws it heartily, my child. God bless you also, and one side and goes on eating. And there ! let you live to become a good and an honest She don't relish that bunch of daisies, and she leaves them, and-goes on eating. Be
This beautiful wish of the unfortunate fore morning she will clear the manger of man affected the boy deeply, and a tear all, save a few sticks and weeds, and she stood in his eye. “Oh, how very unfortuwill give milk. There's milk in that hay, nate I am in having nothing to give him!” and she knows how to get it out, albeit said he, as he slowly resumed his journey. there may be now and then a stick or a Gradually the impression thus made upon weed which she leaves. But if she refused him faded from his heart, and he found to eat, and spent the time in scolding about pleasure in contemplating the beautiful the fodder, she, too, would 'grow lean' country through which he passed, in hearand my milk would be dried up. Just so ing the birds sing, plucking flowers, and with our preaching. Let the old cow teach looking at those whom he passed on the you. Get all the good you can out of it,
road. Thus diverted in his way, he had and leave the rest. You will find a great already nearly reached the village whither deal of nourishment in it."
he was going. He already beard the music Mr. Bunnell stood silent a moment, then and the festal rejoicings of the children, trurned away, saying, “ Neighbour, that old when, looking down, he discovered a coin, cow is no fool at any rate."-Rev. Dr. half covered with dust, lying before him in
the road. Quickly he stooped and picked it up. It was a sixer, a small German coin
of the value of three farthings. His heart In order still better to operate on the vanity beat with joy over his excellent luck, and of any that hesitated, he always ended his his first thoughts were of the poor blind exhortations exclaiming as loud as he could
, “If I should run hastily back and “Yes, certainly, my beloved friends, whogive him this sixer!” He turned round. ever denies himself the enjoyment of beIf he were to hasten, it would take him holding such extraordinary sights must only a quarter of an hour. How soon this not have a single sixer in his pocket!” could be accomplished! And then we must By mere chance he cast a glance at our not count time when a good act is to be boy; and he, thinking that the man's done.
words were specially directed to him, took Then he hesitated a moment, bethought out his sixer, and entered like the rest. himself that for this coin he could purchase The exhibition lasted not a quarter of an something for himself at the festival, and hour, and the boy went out just as rich as that it would be unpleasant to pass
between he was before he had found the sixer. two rows of beautiful things spread out on His remembrance of the blind man, which tables for sale, and have no money to buy continued to employ his thoughts, very anything. It is a poor play when one has much damped the transient pleasure he had an empty purse. But for the poor man, enjoyed. Very much humbled and subwho perhaps has nothing to-day for dinner, dued, he came to his aunt. a sixer would be sufficient to buy bread to In order to quiet his conscience he satisfy all his needs. “ And I," he con- sought to persuade himself that his aunt tinued thoughtfully, “will have a good would certainly give him a little money, report with my aunt, and get cakes as many which he would not spend, but give to the as I wish. Back with you, then, and give poor man as he returned in the evening. the
poor blind man the sixer, especially as But matters did not turn out as he had I had no reason to expect that it would fall expected. His aunt, it is true, received into my
hands." “Still ”—again he stood him kindly-much more so than he felt he hesitating. For a long time he had not deserved -and entertained him with more been in possession of a sixer.
tarts, fruits, and sweetmeats than the poor Whilst he was thus in a strait between man had dry bread to eat that day; but no showing a favour to the poor man and money did she give him. She thought it indulging his own expected pleasure, he was quite enough when she bought him a saw a multitude of sbouting children of his set of ninepins and a trumpet. With these own age coming towards him, who were playthings she sent him back again, and following a man who was bearing on his told him not to detain himself on the way. shoulder two puppets, Master Kasperle and At first he was much cast down. He little Madame Susan. He at once joined reproached himself severely with his hardhimself to this delighted swarm, and with heartedness; he nevertheless took his the rest followed after Master Kasperle and trumpet, and blew with all his might. little Madame Susan. The man soon reached But when he came near the place where the his little theatre in the market-place of the blind man was he began to blow more village, and in order to draw on the people softly, and at length ceased entirely. He began to exhibit his wonderful puppets. purposely passed by on the other side of the This was only the beginning of the interest- way, as if he were afraid of being dising things which were to be seen!
covered. When a sufficient number had gathered The poor blind man, who had a very around him he announced a yet far more acute ear, did not permit him to pass withbeautiful exhibition. For å sixer they out repeating the petition which he was could see, by means of a magic lantern, a accustomed to present to every one who multitude of excellent sights—kings, and passed : “Have pity on a poor blind man, other great personages; all the principal who has to depend entirely on the charities cities of the world : sun, moon, and stars of good people !” These words cut into aleo could be seen as though they were the very heart of the boy; and he did not quite near! The most beautiful thinge venture, as in the morning, to answer, could be seen! Crowds gathered around “ God bless you, good man!” He crept him. The boy stood undecided at the silently past, as much displeased with him. entrance, turning his sixer round and self as if he had stolen the sixer from this round in his pocket.
poor unfortunate man. Every one obeyed the call of the man, This dissatisfaction with himself he experienced every time he passed that way, whether the blind man was there or not; and he continued to reprove himself for his ungracious act, till he had the fortune of being able to give the blind man a sixer, which he had saved for that purpose farthing by farthing.
“Ah, God be praised !” he exclaimed in the joy of his heart ;
6 God be praised ! Now I can again pass this way without sadness and shame, and call to the blind man,
God bless you, good
Gems from Golden Mines.
HOW GRACE CHANGES A MAN. inspire Nehemiah with the love of country; All changes, truly, are not from bad to
but it made him a holy patriot. It did good, or good to better. They may be
not give Dorcas a woman's beart, her tenfrom good to bad, or from bad to worse.
der sympathy with suffering ; but it as80Moisture dims the polished blade, and
ciated charity with piety, and made her turns its bright steel into dull, red dust;
a holy philanthropist. It did not give Paul fire changes the sparkling diamond into
his genius, his resistless logic, and nobie black coal and grey ashes ; disease makes
oratory; but it consecrated them to the loveliness loathsome, and death converts
cause of Christ, touching his lips as with the living form into a mass of foul corrup
a live coal from the altar, it made him such tion. But the peculiarity of grace is this,
a master of holy eloquence that he swayed that, like leaven, it changes whatever is
the multitude at his will, humbled the applied to it into its own nature. For as
pride of kings, and compelled his very leaven turns meal into leaven, so Divine | judges to tremble. It did not give David graca imparts a gracious character to the
a poet's fire and a poet's lyre; but it strung heart; and this is what I call its assimi.
his harp with chords from heaven, and lating element. Yet, let there be no mis
turned all its strings to the service of retake. While the grace of God changes all
ligion and the high praises of God. So who are brought in conversion under its
grace ever works! It assimilates a man to influence, it does not impart any new
the character of God. It does not change power or passion, but works by giving to
the metal, but stamps it with the Divine those we already have a holy bent; by
image, and so assimilates all who have reimpressing on them a heavenly character. ceived Christ to the nature of Christ, that For example, grace did not make David a
unless we have the same mind, more or poet, or Paul an orator, or John a man of
less developed, in us that was in him, the warm affections, or Peter a man of strong
Bible declares that we are none of his. impulses and ardent zeal. They were born
Dr. Thomas Guthrie. such.
The grace of God changes no more the natural features of the mind than it does
ASK FOR WISDOM. those of the body. As the negro said, it EVEN among those who do pray regugave him a white heart; but it left him larly, the prayer for wisdom does not, still
, to use the language of another, the I suspect, form a part of their petitions. inage of God carved in ebony. De the Mauy of us seem to have a confused notion meal into which that woman hides the that sense, reason, good judgment, or by leaven meal of wheat or meal of barley, it whatever name we call our intellectual will come from her hands, from the pro- faculties, are quite distinct from spiritual ress of leavening, from the fiery oven, cakes blessings, and are things too worldly to be of the same grain. For it is not the sub- named in our prayers.
Yet what was stance but the character of the meal that Solomon's choice, but an “understanding is changed. Even so with the effect of heart to judge the people"? That is, a grace. It did not give John his warm sound and powerful mind, capable of disaffections ; but it fixed them on his beloved cerning the truth and the right in the line Master, sanctifying his love. It did not of his daily duty. Solomon's choice should
1 be our prayer : in St. James's words, we nothing else can bring us, into the presence should ask of God to give us wisdom. And of Him who is the source of all these tbings, as in other points of our conduct, so is it and who gives them freely to those who also in this; that by asking God to give us a truly and sincerely ask for them. We may wise and understanding heart, we confess to “ask " for them without caring to have ourselves that our opinions and judgments them; but that is not really “asking." We are serious things, for we do not bring mere may “geek,” but without lifting up our trifles before God's notice in our prayers ; little finger to get what we seek ; but tbat and that, being serious things, they demand is not really “ seeking.” We may “knock," () our own serious care; that duty and sin but so feebly and irresolutely, that no : belong to them; that as our salvation de. sound can be heard within or without; pends on our lives, so our lives depend that is not really to “knock.” But “ask" upon our thoughts and judgments ; for if distinctly and with understanding; “ seek" we ask ill because we have judged ill, and earnestly and deliberately; “knock” eagerly hare judged ill because we took no pains to and pertinaciously, and in some way or judge well, then the sin is not taken away other, depend upon it, we shall be answered, from our act, but remains in it; and the -Dean Stanley. act was an act of what Scripture "calls folly, the folly which sees not and regards not God. Whatever be our business in life, if THE POWER OF LITTLES. we make it a part of our daily prayers to God that he will give us understanding in
It is not to be doubted that there is it ; that he will assist our judgments, so
many a man whose piety is damaged by that, seeing what is right and true, we may
overlooking or disregarding small matters. maintain and follow it both in word and
He fails to take notice of little things, and deed—I do not doubt that such prayers will
they accumulate into great. He allows be answered, and that, where we now act
himself in little things, and they accumulate blindly and carelessly, according to any
into great. He indulges himself in little prevailing feeling or fancy, then we shall
things, and thus forms a strong habit. He act upon the full persuasion of our minds,
concedes in little things, and thus gradually and that persuasion will be, in general, gives up much. He relaxes in little things
and thus loosens the bonds which hold him according to the will of God.- Dr. Arnold.
to duty. Because it is a little thing, he
counts it of little moment, utterly forgetting MORNING AND EVENING that millions are made up of units, that PRAYER.
immensity is constituted of atoms. Because MAY I take this occasion of speaking of it is only a stone, or a pebble, agaiost the importance of this one solemn ordinance
which his foot strikes, he makes light of of religion, never to be forgotten wherever
the hindrance, not caring that he is conwe are—morning and evening prayer ? It
tracting a habit of stumbling, or is the best means of reminding ourselves of
observing that, whenever he trips, thero the presence of God. To place ourselves in
must be some diminution in the speed with his hands before we go forth on our journey,
which he runs the way of God's commandon our pleasure, on our works; to commit
ments, and that, however slowly, these ourselves again to him before we retire to
diminutions tend to bring him to a stand. rest—this is the best security for keeping
So, on the other hand, many a man beup our faith and trust in Him in whom we
coines eminent in piety by giving heed to profess to believe, whom we all expect to
little things, grateful for the smallest good, meet after we leave this world. It is also
watchful over the smallest error, fearful of the best security for our leading a good and
the smallest sin, careful of the smallest happy life. We shall find it thrice
truth. He becomes great through counting as difficult to fall into sin, if we have prayed
nothing little but himself; great in knowagainst it that very morning, or if we thank
ledge through studying the least sentence God for having kept it from us that very
and treasuring the least fragment; great in evening. It is the best means of gaining
faith through noting God's band in little strength, and refreshment, and courage,
incidents, and going to him in little sorand self-denial, for the day; it is the best
rows; great in holiness through avoiding means of gaining content, and tranquillity,
little faults, and being exact in little duties. and rest for the night ; for it bring's us, as