True Stories.
A Warning to Thoughtless Boys.—In the autumn of 1842, as the Queen of the Isles steamer was on her passage from Liverpool to Douglas, Isle of Man, when about thirty miles from her destination, Mr. M’Fee, the chief mate, discerned an object at some distance in the water, and, on approaching it more nearly, it turned out to be a small boat, about four or five miles distant. On viewing the object with his telescope, he could see a person sitting in the stern, apparently in distress, and he immediately ordered the steamer to make all possible despatch towards the boat, and made every necessary preparation to render assistance.
On nearing the boat, a little boy was plainly seen using an almost expiring effort to keep it in the direction of the steamer, which was soon very near it. A rope was immediately thrown out, which the lad seized with a convulsive effort. To describe the scene when the boat was alongside the steamer is impossible—it was most heart-rending. There sat a little boy, twelve years of age, the boat having in it six inches depth of water, and the youth almost in a state of nudity, without shoes or stockings, cold and emaciated—indeed, all but dead. When on board the steamer he was immediately conveyed to bed, and Mr. Sigston, surgeon, who was a passenger, took him under his special care, and rendered every possible assistance and attention which his deplorable situation required.
When the vessel arrived at Douglas, the little fellow was given into the charge of the town surgeon, and has since been doing well. It turned out that the lad, whose name is Barney Smith, had, along with several other lads about his own age, got into the boat on Saturday evening, when it was anchored on the Douglas Sands; the other lads leaped out of the boat, took up the anchor, and pushed poor Barney off to sea.
They at once discovered the mischief they had done, and, being afraid of the consequences, ran away and did not mention the circumstance. Poor Barney was consequently drifted out to sea, and had remained afloat from Saturday till the time when he was providentially taken up by the steamer, at four o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, a space of three days and three nights. He had a small quantity of meal and a little bread in a bag, of which he states he did not eat, as his thirst was so intolerable and his mouth so dry and parched, that he could not swallow it. He had only had salt water to drink, which increased his thirst, and he fancies that he slept one whole night and day. There can be no doubt that he had an almost miraculous delivery, as, soon after he was taken up, there was a severe gale and a heavy sea.—Carlisle Patriot.
Kindness and Sagacity of the Ass.The following anecdote of the sagacity of an ass, and the attachment displayed by the animal to his master, may help, in some degree, to redeem that ill-used race from a portion of theloadof stupidity which is generally assigned to them, and which, with so many otherloads, they bear with such exemplary patience.
Thomas Brown, residing near Hawick, England, travelled the country as a pedler, having an ass, the partner of his trade. From suffering under a paralytic affection, he was in the habit of assisting himself on the road by keeping hold of the crupper of the saddle, or more frequently thetailof the ass. During a severe winter, some years ago, whilst on one of his journeys, near Rule water, “the old man and his ass” were suddenly plunged into a wreath of snow.There they lay long, far from help, and ready to perish. At length the poor ass, after a severe struggle, got out; but finding his unfortunate master absent, he eyed the wreath for some time with a wistful look, and at last forced his way through it to where his master still lay, when, placing his body in such a position as to afford a firm grasp of the tail, the honest pedler was thereby enabled to take his accustomed hold, and was actually dragged out by the faithful beast to a place of safety!
A Test of Christianity.A Christian gentleman had occasion to travel through a new and thickly-settled part of the western country. His companion was a man of intelligence, but of infidel principles, who was fond of discussion, and tried to beguile the way by urging arguments against the truth of the Christian religion. The thinly peopled section of country through which they were passing, was inhabited by people of bad reputation, and it had been rumored that travellers had suffered fatal violence from them when they were within their power.
As regular inns were unknown, our travellers were compelled to trust to the hospitality of those of whom they could not but entertain a secret fear. On one occasion, as the evening closed in, they sought a lodging-place in a log cabin, far remote from other habitations. They anticipated but little comfort; and were induced to believe that it would be a measure of safety to watch alternately through the night.
As they were about to retire to their rude bed, their host, whose exterior had excited their distrust, proceeding to a shelf, took down an old and much worn Bible, and informing his visiters that it was his custom to worship God in his family, he read and prayed in so simple and sincere a manner as to secure the esteem of the travellers. They retired to rest, slept soundly, and thought no more of alternate watching.
In the morning, the Christian requested his infidel companion to say whether the religious exercises of the preceding evening had not dispelled every particle of distrust of their host’s character, and had not enabled him to close his eyes in the most confident security. He was evidently embarrassed by the question; but at length he candidly acknowledged that the sight of the Bible had secured him a sound night’s rest. Here was a testimony, extorted from an infidel, in favor of the influence of the religion which he skeptically assailed. He could not harbor a fear of violence from one who was in the habit of daily bending his knee before God! The very erection of the family altar rendered the house a secure asylum! Who would not be a Christian? Who can be an infidel?
A Tahitian Christian.Maree, a native of the island of Otaheite or Tahiti, was a man of fine natural talents and was not destitute of acquired ones; being able to read and write well, and acquainted with some of the first rules of arithmetic. He was possessed of a surprising memory, a quick perception, and a good understanding, with a sound and penetrating judgment; while, to crown all, he was a man of genuine piety and ardent zeal in the Savior’s cause. He was one of the first, who, under the preaching of the missionaries, publicly embraced Christianity among these islanders; and before it became general, his life was often in jeopardy, through his profession of it. More than one attempt was made, by a number of violent men, to shoot him and a little praying company, who used to meet with him that they might together worship the true God.
On one occasion, these lawless men having found him and his little party at prayer in a place appropriated for the purpose, levelled their muskets at them, with a view to execute their cruel designs, when, as though withheld by an unseen arm, their attention was arrested by the prayers offering up by the intended victims of their fury. The effect was instantaneous and powerful. Abandoning their murderous purpose, they went in and sat down with Maree and his company, confessed what their intentions had been, and told them not to be afraid, as they should not molest them any more; which promise they kept.
Maree was much respected among the people, both for his piety and talents, and also, as having been made a judge from the esteem entertained for him by Pomare, the king; because, as the latter used to say, “he had embraced Christianity at the mouth of the musket,” and for his persevering attachment to his profession, and moreover, as the king said, “because he knew Maree would regard the laws and do justice.”
Sir Matthew Hale.This great man, who was a famous judge in England about two hundred years ago, in writing to his children on the duties they were called to observe, thus speaks of theSabbath:—
“I have by long and sound experience found that the due observance of this day and the duties of it hath been of singular comfort and advantage to me. The observance of this day hath ever had joined to it a blessing upon the rest of my time; and the week that hath been so begun hath been blessed and prospered to me; and, on the other side, when I have been negligent of the duties of this day, the rest of the week has been unsuccessful and unhappy to my own secular employments; so that I could easily make an estimate of my successes the week following, by the manner of my passing this day; and this I do not write lightly or inconsiderately, but upon a long and sound observation and experience.”
David Saunders,—the Shepherd of Salisbury Plain.Most of our readers are acquainted with that beautiful story, written by Hannah More, entitled “The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain.” The substance of this narrative is a correct account of David Saunders, of West Lavington, England, who died about the period of its publication. The conversation represented as passing between the shepherd and a Mr. Johnston, really took place with Dr. Stonehouse, a neighboring clergyman, who befriended the shepherd on many occasions.
Dr. Stonehouse, who was on a journey, and somewhat fearful, from the appearance of the sky, that rain was at hand, accosted the shepherd by asking him what sort of weather it would be on the morrow. “It will be such weather as pleases me!” said the shepherd. Though the answer was delivered in the mildest and civilest tone that could be imagined, Dr. S. thought the words themselves rather rude and surly, and asked him how that could be. “Because,” replied the shepherd, “it will be such weather as pleases God, and whatever pleases him, always pleases me.”
Dr. S. was quite satisfied with this reply, and entered into conversation with the shepherd in the following manner: “Yours is a troublesome life, honest friend.” “To be sure, sir,” replied the shepherd, “’tis not a very lazy life; but ’tis not near so toilsome as that which my Great Master led for my sake. He had every state and condition of life at his choice, and chose a hard one, while I only submit to the lot that is appointed me.” “You are exposed to great coldand heat,” said the gentleman. “True, sir,” said the shepherd; “but then, I am not exposed to great temptations; and so throwing one thing against another, God is pleased to contrive to make things more equal than we poor, ignorant, short-sighted creatures are apt to think. David was happier when he kept his father’s sheep, on such a plain as this, and singing some of his own psalms, perhaps, than ever he was when he became king of Israel and Judah; and I dare say we should never have had some of the most beautiful texts in all those fine psalms, if he had not been a shepherd, which enabled him to make so many fine comparisons and similitudes, as one may say, from a country life, flocks of sheep, hills, valleys and fountains of water.”
“You think, then,” said the gentleman, “that a laborious life is a happy one?”
“I do, sir, and more especially so as it exposes a man to fewer sins. If king Saul had continued a poor laborious man to the end of his days, he might have lived happy and honest, and died a natural death in his bed at last; which you know, sir, was more than he did. But, I speak with reverence, for it was divine Providence overruled all that, you know, sir, and I do not presume to make comparisons. Beside, sir, my employment has been particularly honored. Moses was a shepherd in the plains of Midian. It was to shepherds keeping their flocks by night, that the angels appeared in Bethlehem, to tell the best news—the gladdest tidings that were ever revealed to poor sinful men; often and often has the thought warmed my poor heart in the coldest night, and filled me with more joy and thankfulness than the best supper could have done.”
This poor shepherd had indeed a depth of wisdom, which infinitely surpassed that of many learned philosophers. How often have they studied the ways of God, without being able to discern them—while all was plain to David Saunders.
An Indian’s Illustration of Scripture.Some years ago one of the preachers of the Mohegan Indians, near Norwich, in Connecticut, was preaching on the language of Solomon, “Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days.” Eccles. xi. 1. To illustrate his subject, and enforce the duty of benevolence, he related a circumstance connected with his early days, as follows: “A certain man was going from Norwich to New London, with a loaded team; on attempting to ascend the hill where Indian lives, he found his team could not draw the load; he came to Indian, and got him to help him with his oxen. After he had got up, he asked Indian what there was to pay. Indian told him to do as much for somebody else.
“Some time afterward, Indian wanted a canoe; he went up Shetucket river, found a tree and made him one. When he got it done, he could not get it to the river; accordingly, he went to a man, and offered him all the money he had, if he would go and draw it to the river for him. The man said he would go. After getting it to the river, Indian offered to pay him. ‘No,’ said the man; ‘don’t you recollect, so long ago, helping a man up the hill by your house?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, I am the man; take your canoe and go home.’ So I find it after many days.”
The Force of Habit.Some time since, Lowndes, a tippling bookseller, presented a check at the banking house of Sir William Curtis & Co., London, and upon the cashier putting the usual question, “How will you have it?” replied, “cold, without sugar.”