ADMONITORY INSTANCES.
'On one occasion, when visiting at the Infirmary, going from ward to ward, and from bed to bed, I met with a young man, S. B——. He was very bad, and was afraid he was going to die. I talked with him often and long, pointing him to the Saviour, and prayed with him. With penitential tears and earnest cries he sought mercy, and at length professed to obtain salvation. He recovered. One Sunday, when at Hessle, visiting my dying mother, I met this young man, and I shall never forget his agitated frame, and terrified appearance, when he saw me. He looked this way and that way; I said, 'Well, B——, are you all right? Have you kept the promises you made to the Lord?' A blush of shame covered his face. I said 'Why do you look so sad? Have I injured you?' 'No, Sir.' 'Have you injured me?' 'I hope not,' was his reply. 'Then look me in the face; are youbeyond God's reach, or do you think that because he has restored your health once, he will not afflict you again? Ah! my boy, the next time may be much worse than the last. And do you think God will believe you if you again promise to serve him? He looked round him and seemed as though he would have leaped over a drain that was close by.'
HIS CHARITY.
Conscience is a busy power within the breast of the most desperate, and when roused by the prospect of death and judgment, it speaks in terrible tones. The notorious Muller denied the murder of Mr. Briggs, until, with cap on his face and the rope round his neck, he submitted to the final appeal and acknowledged, as he launched into eternity, 'Yes, I have done it.' But the cries of these persons seem to have arisen, not from an abhorrence of sin, but from a dread of punishment; they feared hell, and hence they wished for heaven; they desired to be saved from the consequences of sin, but were not delivered from the love of it. Need we wonder that our friend had but little faith in a sick-bed repentance? Scripture and reason alike warn us against trusting to such repentance, 'Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.'
While our friend felt that he would have been unworthy the name of a Christian had he not felt more for the spiritual than for the temporal woes of his fellow creatures, yet the latter were not forgotten by him; and it sometimes grieved him that he could not more largely minister to the temporal wants of the poor, the fatherless, the orphans, and the widows, whom he visited.
HIS SELF-DENIAL.
And perhaps one of the most painful trials a visitor of the sick endures is, to go moneyless to a chamber that has been crossed by want, and whose inmate isutterly unable to supply his own necessities; but when the visitor can relieve the physical as well as the spiritual necessities of the sufferer, with what a buoyant step and cheerful heart he enters the abode of poverty and suffering! And his words, instead of falling like icicles on the sufferer's soul, fall on it as refreshing as a summer rain, warm as the tempered ray, and welcome as a mother's love. Such a visitor has often chased despair from the abode of wretchedness, and filled it with the atmosphere of hope.
GIVES UP TOBACCO.
Hence, that he might participate in this joy, and have wherewith to relieve the needy, Mr. Ellerthorpe abstained from the use of tobacco, of which, at one period of his life, he was an immoderate consumer. One Sabbath morning, while he and Mr. Harrison were visiting the sick, they met two wretched-looking boys, fearfully marked with small pox (from an attack of which complaint they were beginning to recover), and crying for a drink of milk. Their father, who was far advanced in life, could not supply their wants. John's heart was touched, and he thought, 'Here am I, possessed of health, food, and raiment, while these poor children are festering with disease, but scantily clothed, and not half fed. A sixpence, a basin of milk, or a loaf of bread, would be a boon to them. Can I help them?' He gave the old man sixpence, while he and Mr. Harrison told the milkman to leave a quantity of milk at the man's house daily, for which they would pay. It was with a radiant face, and a tremble of glad emotion in his voice, that our friend, in relating this circumstance to us one day, said:—'I felt a throb of pleasure when I did that little act of kindness, such as I had never felt before,' when, quick as lightning, the thought crossed his mind, 'Why I smoke six pennyworth of tobacco every week!' and there and then he resolved to give up the practice. On the next Friday, when Mrs. Ellerthorpe was setting down onpaper a list of the groceries wanted, she proceeded, as usual, to say, 'Tea—Coffee—Sugar—Tobacco—,' 'Stop,' said her husband, 'I've done with that. I'll have no more.' Now, Mrs. E. had always enjoyed seeing her husband smoke; it had often proved a powerful sedative to him when wearied with the cares of life, and the numberless irritations of his trying vocation, and therefore she replied, 'Nonsense, you will soon repent of that whim. I shall get two ounces as usual, and I know you'll smoke it.' 'I shall never touch it again,' was his firm reply, and ever after kept his word.
HIS TEETOTALISM.
A world full of misery, both temporal and spiritual, surrounds us, and which might be effectually relieved, were all Christians, many of whom are laggard in effort and niggard in bounty, to manifest a tithe of the self-denial which Mr. Ellerthorpe practiced. 'What maintains one vice, would support two children.' Robert Hall says:—It is the practice of self-denial in a thousand little instances which forms the truest test of character.' Mr. Fletcher, Vicar of Madeley, was on one occasion driven close for means to discharge the claims of the poor, when he said to his wife, 'O Polly, can we not do without beer? Let us drink water, and eat less meat. Let our necessities give way to the extremities of the poor.' And at a meeting held the other night, a donation was announced thus:—'A poor man's savings from tobacco, £5.' And are there not tens of thousands of professors who could present similar offerings if they, in the name and spirit of their great Master, tried? Do we not often come in contact with men who complain that they cannot contribute to the cause of God and humanity, who, at the same time, indulge in the use of snuff, tobacco, or intoxicating drinks; all of which might be laid aside to the gain of God's cause, and without at all lessening either the health, reputation, or happiness of the consumer? And are there notothers, of good social position, who do not give as much to relieve the temporal sufferings of their fellow creatures, during twelve months, as it costs them to provide a single feast for a few well-to-do friends? The merchant who sold his chips and shavings, and presented the proceeds to the cause of God, while he kept the solid timber for himself, is the type of too many professors of religion!
HIS STAUNCH TEETOTALISM.
Perhaps no class of men have suffered more from the evils of intemperance than our brave sailors, fishermen, and rivermen. Foreigners tell our missionaries to convert our drunken sailors abroad, and when they wish to personify an Englishman, they mockingly reel about like a drunken man. And what lives have been lost through the intemperance of captains and crews! The 'St. George,' with 550 men: 'The Kent,' 'East Indiaman,' with most of her passengers and crew: 'The Ajax,' with 350 people: 'The Rothsway Castle,' with 100 men on board, with many others we might name, were all lost through the drunkenness of those in charge of the vessels. Of the forty persons whom our friend rescued from drowning, a very large percentage got overboard through intemperance. We read that on the morning following the Passover night in Egypt, there was not a house in which there was not one dead, and it would be difficult to find a house in our land, occupied by sailors, in which this monster evil has not slain its victim, either physically or morally.
HIS DRUNKEN FATHER.
Our friend, speaking of his own family, says:—'I owe my Christian name to the favour with which drunkenness was regarded by my relatives. Soon after I was born, one of my uncles asked, "What is the lad's name to be?" "Thomas," replied mymother. "Never," said my uncle, in surprise, "we had two Thomas's, and they both did badly; call him John. I have known four John's in the family, and theywere all great drunkards, but that was the worst that could be said of them." 'So it appears,' said our friend, 'that at that time it was thought no very bad thing for a man to get drunk, if he was not in the habit of being brought before the magistrate for theft, &c.' John's father was one of the four drunkards. In early life he became a hard drinker, and he continued the practice until a damaged constitution, emptied purse, a careworn wife, and a neglected family, were the bitter fruits of his inebriation. 'He drank hard,' says John, 'spending almost all his money in drink, and was at last forced to sell his vessel and take to the menial work of helping to load and unload vessels. At length he went to sea, and for a long time we heard nothing of him; nor did my mother receive any money from him. In old age he was quite destitute, and while it gave me great pleasure to minister to his necessities, it often grieved me to think of the cause of his altered circumstances.'
Nightly, when ashore, John, the elder, went to the public house, and it was his invariable rule never to return home until his wife fetched him. Often, when Mrs. Ellerthorpe was in a feeble state of health, and amid the howling winds and drenching rains of a winter's night, would she go in search of her drunken husband, and by her winning ways and kind entreaties induce him to return home. She was known to be a God-fearing woman, and often on the occasion of these visits, her husband's companions—some of whom were 'tippling professors' of religion—would try to entangle her in religious conversation, but to every entreaty she had one reply, 'If you want to talk with me about religion come to my house. I will not speak of it here; for I am determined never to fight the devil on his own ground.'
IMITATES HIS FATHER.
And was this Christian woman wrong in calling the public house the devil's ground? We have 140,000 of these houses in our land, and are they not so many reservoirs from whence the devil floods our country with crime, wretchedness, and woe? Is it not there that his deluded victims, in thousands of instances, destroy their fortune, ruin their health, and form those habits which wither the beauty, scatter the comforts, blast the reputation, and bury once happy families in the tomb of disgrace? And is it not at the public house that the sounds of blasphemy, cursing, and swearing, sedition, uncleanness, laciviousness, hatred, quarrels, murders, gambling, revelling, and such like, are begun? And you might as reasonably expect to preserve your health in a pest-house, your modesty in a brothel, and high-souled principles amongst gamesters, as to expect to preserve your religious character undamaged amid the impure atmosphere of a public house. Can a man go upon hot coals and his feet not be burnt? One hour spent around the drunkard's table has often done an amount of harm to the cause of God and the souls of men which the devotion of years could not undo.
BECOMES A DRUNKARD.
A youth, on being urged to take the pledge, said, 'My father drinks, and I don't want to be better than my father.' And, alas! for our friend, he early imbibed the tastes and followed the example of his father, for drink got the mastery of him. Speaking of his boyhood, he says, 'I remember a man saying to my father, "Your son is a sharp lad, and he will make a clever man, if only you set him a good example, and keep him from drink." To which my father replied, "O drink will not hurt him; if he does nothing worse than take a sup of drink he'll be all right; drink never hurt anyone." But, alas! my father lived to see that a "little sup" did not serve me, for I have heard him say with sorrow, "The lad drinks hard." But he was the first to set me the example, and ifparents wish their children to abstain from intoxicating drinks, they should set the example by being abstainers themselves. The best and most lasting way of doing good to a family is for parents first to do right themselves.' But with such a training as John had, what wonder that he became a 'hard drinker.' For years previous to his marriage his experience was something like that of an old 'hard-a-weather' on board a homeward-bound Indiaman, who was asked by a lady passenger, 'Whether he would not be glad to get home and see his wife and children, and spend the summer with them in the country?' Poor Jack possessed neither home, nor wife, nor chick nor child; and his recollections of green fields and domestic enjoyments were dreamily associated with early childhood. And hence a big tear rolled down his weather-beaten but manly cheek as he said to his fair questioner, 'Well, I don't know, I suppose it will be anotherroll in the gutter, and away again.' Our friend was for years a 'reeling drunkard,' and often, during this sad period of his existence, he literally 'rolled in the gutter.'
But when he experienced a saving change he at once became a sober man, and began to treat public houses after the fashion of the fox in the fable—who declined the invitation to the lion's den, because he had observed that the only footsteps in its vicinity were towards it and none from it. He further saw that to indulge in the use of intoxicating drinks, and then pray, 'Lead me not into temptation,' savoured less of piety than of presumption. He attended a temperance meeting at which the Rev. G. Lamb spoke of the importance of Christian professors abstaining for the good of others, as well as for their own safety. John felt that his sphere of action was limited in its range and insignificant in its character; yet he knew he possessed influence; as a husband and father, and as a member of civil and religious society,he knew that his conduct would produce an effect on those to whom he was related, and with whom he had to do. 'No man liveth to himself.' He knew how to do good, and not to have done it would have been sin. And that thought decided him. At the close of the meeting, persons were invited to take the pledge of total abstinence, but not one responded to the invitation. John saw, sitting at his right hand, a man who had been a great drunkard, and whose shattered nerves, unsteady hand, and bloodshot eyes, told of the sad effects of his conduct. Placing his hand on this man's shoulder, he said, 'Will you take the pledge?' 'I will if you will,' was the man's reply. 'Done,' said John, and scarcely had they reached the platform, when about twenty others followed and took the pledge.
SIGNS THE PLEDGE.
His Diary contains this record, 'February 24th, 1851. I have been to the Teetotal Meeting, and I have taken the pledge, and I intend, through the grace of God, to keep it as long as I live.'
From that night John became a practical and pledged abstainer from all intoxicating drinks, and induced many a poor drunkard to follow his example. No man stood higher than he in Temperance circles. He adornedthatprofession. In his extensive intercourse with his fellow men, he proved himself the fast friend and unflinching advocate of total abstinence, having delivered hundreds of addresses and circulated thousands of tracts, in vindication of its principles.
A few years before his death, he was travelling from Hull to Howden, by rail; the compartment was full of passengers, and he began, as usual, to circulate his tracts and to speak in favour of temperance.
THE AGED CLERGYMAN.
An aged clergyman present said, 'I always give you Hull folks great credit for being teetotalers.' 'And why the people of Hull more than the people of any other place?' asked John. 'Because your water is filthy and dirty, and I never could drink itwithout a mixture of brandy.' 'That our water is dirty I admit,' said John, 'but I have drank it both with brandy and without, and if you felt as I feel, I am sure, sir, you would discontinue the practice of brandy drinking.' 'Oh, I suppose you are one of those men who get all the drink you can and when you can get no more you turn teetotaller,' was the rejoinder. 'You are mistaken, sir; for I can call most of the persons present to witness, that I laid aside the intoxicating glass when I possessed the most ample means and every opportunity of getting plenty of drink, and at little or no cost to myself. But I saw that I should be a safer and happier man myself, and a greater blessing to others if I abstained, and therefore I signed the pledge; and you must pardon me, sir, when I say, that if you felt as I feel, you would, as a minister of the gospel, pursue the same course.' 'O!' said he, with indignation lowering in his countenance and thundering in his voice, 'I have taken my brandy daily for years, and it never did me any hurt.' 'Granted,' replied our friend, 'but if you can drink with safety, can others? Have you never seen the evil effects of tampering with the glass? Have none of your acquaintances or friends fallen victims to drunkenness? Let me give you a case, sir. One of my former employers had a son who, up to the twentieth year of his age, had never tasted intoxicating drinks. But he had a weak constitution and a slender frame, and the doctor ordered him to take a little brandy and water twice a day. He did so, and began to like it. He soon wanted it oftener, and told the man to make it stronger, and the man did as he was told. One day he had put but a few drops of water into a large glass of brandy, but the young gentleman said, 'Did'nt I tell you to make it stronger? Let the next glass be stronger.' He soon calledfor the next glass, and having swallowed it, said, in a rage, 'What a fool you are. I told you to letme have it stronger.' 'Sir,' said the man, 'you can't have it stronger, for the glass you have just drank was "neat" as it came from the bottle.' 'And is that a fact,' exclaimed the young gentleman. 'Has it come to this? Am I to be a slave to that liquid? Never! Take it away, and from this day I'll never drink another glass.' This statement was listened to with marked attention by all the passengers, and when the train arrived at Howden station, they gave forth a spontaneous burst of applause. The clergyman sat ashamed and speechless, and, on leaving the train, refused to shake hands with our friend who had administered to him this well-timed and well-merited rebuke.
ADVOCATES TOTAL ABSTINENCE.
I have stated that our friend spoke at hundreds of temperance meetings, and his bluntness of manner, curt style of address, and nautical phrases, won for him a ready hearing. Whenever he rose on the platform eyes beamed and hearts throbbed with delight. Not that his hearers expected to listen to an eloquent speech, or to be amused by laughter-exciting and fun-making eccentricities, but he rose with the influence of established character, combined with an ardent temperament, a ready wit, and a face beaming with the sunshine of piety towards God and good-will to men. Besides, there was a just appreciation of his many deeds of gallantry, some of which he occasionally related, and which rarely failed to fill his hearers with admiration for the brave heart that could prompt and the ready skill that could perform them. Hence, he was listened to in the town and neighbourhood of Hull with an amount of sympathy, attention, and respect which no other advocate of total abstinence, possessed of the same mental abilities, could command.
FORMS A BAND OF HOPE.
TheBand of Hopehad a warm friend and powerful advocate in the person of Mr. Ellerthorpe, and it was in connexion with its services that he found his mostcongenial employment. 3,000,000 of the inhabitants of our country are now pledged abstainers from intoxicating drinks, and this number includes upwards of 2,000 ministers of the Gospel. But thirty years ago this cause was regarded with disfavour even by the religious public. Hence, when Mr. Ellerthorpe and others sought to form a Band of Hope in connexion with the Primitive Methodist Sabbath School, Great Thornton Street, Hull, they met with much opposition from several members of the Society, and also from some of the teachers in the school, who were 'tipplers,' and could not endure the idea of a Band of Hope. But the Band was formed, with Mr. Ellerthorpe as president, and it soon numbered three hundred members. Before his death he saw upwards of thirty of these Juvenile Bands formed in Hull. He attended most of their anniversaries, throwing a flood of genial merriment, just like dancing sunlight, over his young auditors. Hundreds of these 'cold water drinkers' sometimes listened to him on these occasions, and as he related some of the scenes of his eventful life, their young hearts throbbed and their eyes filled with tears.
We cannot close this chapter of our little book without asking, Were the motives which led our friend to sign the pledge, right or wrong? The celebrated Paley lays down this axiom, 'That where one side is doubtful and one is safe, we are as morally bound to take the safe side as if a voice from heaven said, "This is the way, walk ye in it."' And is not total abstinence the only safe side for the abstainer himself? Some men have a strong predisposition for intoxicating drinks, and they must abstain or be ruined. Naturalists tell us that in order to tame a tiger he must never be allowed to taste blood. Let him have but one taste and his whole nature is changed. And the men to whom I refer are humane, upright, chaste, kind to their children and affectionate to their wives,while they can be kept from intoxicating drinks, but let them taste, onlytaste, and their passions become so strong and their appetites so rampant, that they are inspired with the most ferocious dispositions, and perpetrate deeds, the mere mention of which would appal them in their sober moments. And where is the moderate drinker who can point to the glass and say, 'I am safe?' As that dexterous murderer, Palmer, administered his doses in small quantities, and thus gradually and daily undermined the constitution of his victims, and, as it were, muffled the footfalls of death, so strong drink does not all at once over master its victims; but how often have we known it gradually, and after years of tippling, lead them captive into the vortex of drunkenness.
TOTAL ABSTINENCE.
But admitting, for the sake of argument, that you can drink with safety to yourself, can you drink with safety to others? 'No man liveth to himself.' We are all a kind of chameleon, and naturally derive a tinge from that which is near us. Our friend attributes his early drunkenness to the influence and example of his father. You should view your drinking habits in the light of these passages of Scripture, 'Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.' 'It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereat thy brother stumbleth or is made weak.' So that you may look at Paley's saying, in its application to the use of strong drinks, again and again; you may examine it as closely as you like, and criticise it as often as you please, still it remains true, that to drink isdoubtful, while to abstain issafe, and that we are as morally bound to choose the latter as if a voice from heaven said, 'This is the way, walk ye in it.' 'Let us not, therefore, judge one another any more, but judge this rather that no man put a stumblingblock or an occasion, to fall in his brother's way.'—Rom. xiv. 13.
HIS BOLD ADVENTURES ON THE WATER.
SWIMMING ADVOCATED.
That swimming is a noble and useful art, deserving the best attention of all classes of the community, is a fact few will dispute. 'Swimming,' says Locke, 'ought to form part of every boy's education!' It is an art that is easily acquired; it is healthy and pleasurable as an exercise, being highly favourable to muscular development, agility of motion, and symmetry of form; and it is of inconceivable benefit as the means of preserving or saving life in seasons of peril, when death would otherwise prove inevitable. Mr. Ellerthorpe early became an accomplished swimmer; he often fell overboard, and but for his skill in the art under consideration he would have been drowned. He also enjoyed the happiness of having saved upwards of forty persons, who, but for his efforts must, to all human appearance, have perished.
To a maratime nation like ours, with a rugged and dangerous coast-line of two thousand miles, indented by harbours, few and far from each other, and with a sea-faring population of half a million, it seems as necessary that the rising generation should learn to swim as that they should be taught the most common exercises of youth. And yet 'this natatory art' is but little cultivated amongst us. On the Continent, and among foreigners generally, swimming is practised and encouraged far more than it is in England. In the Normal Swimming school of Denmark, some thirty years ago, there were educated 105 masters destined to teach the art throughout the kingdom. In France, Vienna, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Berne, Amsterdam, &c., similar means were adopted, and very few persons in those countries are entirely destitute of a knowledge of the art. But so generally is this department of juvenile training neglected by us as a people, thatonly one in every ten who gain their livelihood on the waterare able to swim.
HULL SWIMMING CLUB.
Mr. Ellerthorpe, in a characteristic letter, says: 'I think no schoolmaster should regard the education of his scholars complete unless he has taught them to swim. That art is of service when everything else is useless. I once heard of a professor who was being ferried across a river by a boatman, who was no scholar. So the professor said, "Can you write, my man?" "No, Sir," said the boatman. "Then you have lost one third of your life," said the professor. "Can you read?" again asked he of the boatman. "No," replied the latter, "I can't read." "Then you have lost the half of your life," said the professor. Now came the boatman's turn. "Can you swim?" said the boatman to the professor. "No," was his reply. "Then," said the boatman, "you have lost the whole of your life, for the boat is sinking and you'll be drowned." Now, Sir, I think that if those fathers who spend so much money on the intellectual education of their children, would devote but a small portion of it to securing for them a knowledge of the art of swimming, they would confer a great blessing on those children, and also on society at large. I would have every one learn to swim females as well as males; for many of both sexes come under my notice every year who are drowned, but who, with a little skill in swimming, might have been saved. Not fewer than forty men and boys were lost from the Hull Smacks alone during the year 1866, of whom twenty per cent, might have been saved had they been able to swim.'
HE LEARNS TO SWIM.
Mr. Ellerthorpe was, for many years, Master of the 'Hull Swimming Club,' and also of 'The College Youth's Swimming Club,' and his whole life was a practical lesson on the value of the art of swimming. He contended that the youths of Hull ought to be taught this art, and pleaded that a sheet of water which had been waste and unproductive for twenty years should be transformed into a swimming bath.The local papers favoured the scheme, and Alderman Dennison, moved in the Town Council, that £350 should be devoted to this object, which was carried by a majority. The late Titus Salt, Esq., who had given £5,000 to the 'Sailor's Orphan Home,' said at the time, 'I thinkyour corporation ought to make the swimming bathalluded to in the enclosed paper;do ask them.' 'The private individual who gives hisfiftyhundreds to a particular Institution,' to use the words of theHull and Eastern Counties' Herald, Oct. 10th, 1857, 'has surely a right to express an opinion that the municipal corporation ought to grantthreehundreds, if by so doing the public weal would be provided. If the voice of such a man is to be disregarded, then it may truly be said that our good old town has fallen far below the exalted position it occupied when it produced itsWilberforceand itsMarvel.'
For upwards of forty years Mr. Ellerthorpe was known as a fearless swimmer and diver, and during that period he saved no fewer than forty lives by his daring intrepidity. In his boyhood, he, to use his own expression, 'felt quite at home in the water,' and betook himself to it as natively and instinctively as the swan to the water or the lark to the sky. 'This art,' to use the words of an admirable article in theShipwrecked Mariners' Magazinefor October, 1862, 'he has cultivated so successfully that in scores of instances he has been able to employ it for the salvation of life and property. Perhaps the history of no other living person more fully displays the value of this art than John Ellerthorpe. Joined with courage, promptitude, and steady self-possession, it has enabled him repeatedly to preserve his own life, and what is far more worthy of record, to save not fewer than thirty-nine of his fellow creatures, who, humanly speaking, must otherwise have met with a watery grave.'
HIS RECKLESS DARING.
It is but right to state that, in the early period of his history, a thoughtless disregard of his own life, and an overweening confidence in his ability to swim almost any length, and amid circumstances of great peril, often led him to deeds of 'reckless daring,' which in riper years he would have trembled to attempt. Respecting most of the following circumstances he says, 'I look upon those perilous adventures as so many foolish and wicked temptings of Providence. I have often wondered I was not drowned, and attribute my preservation to the wonder-working providence of God, who has so often 'redeemed my life from destruction, and crowned me with loving kindness and tender mercies.'
And certainly we should remember that heroism is one thing, reckless daring another. Two or three instances will illustrate this. A few years ago Blondin, for the sake of money, jeopardized his life at the Crystal Palace, by walking blindfolded on a tight-rope, and holding in his hand a balancing pole. In so doing he was foolhardy, but not heroic. But a certain Frenchman, at Alencon, walked on one occasion on a rope over some burning beams into a burning house, otherwise inaccessible, and succeeded in saving six persons. This was the act of a true hero. When Mr. Worthington, the 'professional diver,' plunged into the water and saved six persons from drowning, who, but for his skill and dexterity as a swimmer, would certainly have met with a watery grave, he acted the part of a 'hero;' but when, the other day, he made a series of nine 'terrific plunges' from the Chain Pier at Brighton—a height of about one hundred and twenty feet—merely to gratify sensational sightseers, or to put a few shillings into his own pocket, he acted the part of a foolhardy man. Can we wonder that he was within an ace of losing his life in this mad exploit? And when John Ellerthorpe dived to the bottom of 'Clarke's Bit,' togratify a number of young men who had 'more money than wit,' and struggled in the water with a bag of coals on his back, he put himself on a par with those men who place their lives in imminent danger by dancing on ropes, swinging on cords, tying themselves into knots like a beast, or crawling on ceilings like some creeping thing! But when he used his skill to save his fellow creatures, he was a true hero, and was justified in perilling his own life, considering that by so doing the safety of others might be secured.
We shall close this chapter by recording a few of his deeds of reckless daring.
JOHN'S FIRST ATTEMPT AT SWIMMING.
'My first attempt at swimming took place at Hessle, when I was about twelve years of age. There was a large drain used for the purpose of receiving the water from both the sea and land. My father managed the sluice, which was used for excluding, retaining, and regulating the flow of water into this drain. It was a first rate place for lads to bathe in, and I have sometimes bathed in it ten times a day; indeed, I regret to say, I spent many days there when I ought to have been at school. I soon got to swim in this drain, but durst not venture into the harbour. But one day I accidentally set my dirty feet upon the shirt of a boy who was much older and bigger than myself, and in a rage he took me up in his arms and threw me into the harbour. I soon felt safe there, nor did I leave the harbour till I had crossed and recrossed it thirty-two times. The next day I swam the whole length of the harbour twice, and from that day I began to match myself with expert swimmers, nor did I fear swimming with the best of them. Some other lads were as venturesome as myself, and we used to go up the Humber with the tides, for several miles at once. I remember on one occasion it blew a strong gale of wind from S.W., severalvessels sank in the Humber, and a number of boats broke adrift, while a heavy sea was running: I stripped and swam to one of the boats, got into her, and brought her to land, for which act the master of the boat gave me five shillings. During the same gale a keel came ashore at Hessle; I stripped and swam to her and brought a rope on shore, by the assistance of which, two men, a woman, and two children escaped from the vessel. The tide was receding at the time, so that they were enabled, with the assistance of the rope, to walk ashore. There are several old men living now who well remember this circumstance.
SWIMS ACROSS THE HUMBER.
'Soon after this occurrence, I remember one Saturday afternoon, going with some other boys of my own age, and swimming across the Humber, a distance of two miles. We started from Swanland Fields (which was then enclosed), Yorkshire, and landed at the Old Warp, Lincolnshire. Here we had a long run and a good play, and then we recrossed the Humber. But in doing so we were carried up as far as Ferriby Sluice, and had to run back to where we had left our clothes in charge of some lads, but when we got there the lads had gone, and we didn't know what to do. We sought for our clothes a full hour, when a man, in the employ of Mr. Pease told us that the lads had put them under some bushes, where we at last found them. We were in the water four hours. This was an act of great imprudence.
'On another occasion myself and some other lads played truant from school, and went towards the Humber to bathe, but the schoolmaster, Mr. Peacock, followed us closely. He ran and I ran, and I had just time to throw off my clothes and leap into the water, when he got to the bank. He was afraid I should be drowned, and called out 'If you will come back I won't tell your father and mother.' But I refused to return, for at that time I felt no fear in doing what I durst not have attempted when I got older.
SWIMS IN HESSLE HARBOUR.
'On several occasions some young gentlemen, who were scholars at Hessle boarding school, got me to go and bathe with them. They had plenty of money, and I had none; and as they offered to pay me, I was glad to go with them. One day while we were bathing, the eldest son of Mr. Earnshaw, of Hessle, had a narrow escape from drowning. I was a long way from him at the time, but I did all I could to reach and rescue him. He was very ill for some days, and the doctor forbade him bathing for a long time to come. This deterred us from bathing for awhile, but we soon forgot it. We agreed to have a swimming match, and the boy that swam the farthest was to havesixpence. We started at three o'clock in the afternoon from the third jetty below Hessle harbour, and went up with the tide. One of the boys got the lead of me and I could not overtake him until we got opposite Cliffe Mill, about a mile and a half from where we started. He then began to fag, while I felt as brisk as a lark and fresher than when I began. I soon took the lead, and when I got to Ferriby Lane-end, I lost my mate altogether. However, I knew he was a capital swimmer, and I felt afraid lest he should turn up again, so I swam as far as Melton brickyard, and fairly won the prize. I had swam about seven miles, and believe I could have swam back without landing.
HIS EXPLOITS ON THE WATER.
'When I was about fifteen years of age a steam packet came to Hessle, bringing a number of swimmers from Hull. Soon alter their arrival a lad came running to me and said, "Jack, there's some of those Hull chaps bathing, and they say they can beat thee." I didn't like that; and when I got to them, a young gentleman said, pointing to me, "Here is a lad that shall swim you for what you like." One of them said, "Is he that Ellerthorpe of Hessle?" "No matter who he is," replied the young man, "I'll back him for a sovereign," when one of the young gentlemencalled out, "It is Jack Ellerthorpe, I won't have aught to do with him, for he can go as fast feet foremost as I can with my hands foremost, he's a first-rate swimmer." By this time I was stripped, and at once plunged into the river. I crept on my hands and knees on the water, and then swam backwards and forwards with my feet foremost, and not one among them could swim with me. I showed them the "porpoise race," which consisted in disappearing under the water, and then coming "bobbing" up suddenly, at very unlikely spots. I then took a knife and cut my toe-nails in the water. The young gents were greatly delighted, and afterwards they would have matched me to swim anybody, to any distance. And I believe that at that time I could have swam almost any length; for after I had swam two or three miles my spirits seemed to rise, and my strength increased. When other lads seemed thoroughly beaten out, I was coming to my best, and the longer I remained in the water the easier and faster I could swim.
SWIMS TO BARROW.
'It will be remembered by some who will read these pages, that about ... years ago a Mr. Burton was returned, as a member of Parliament for Beverley. He was a wild, drunken, half-crazy fellow, and I remember he came to Hessle about two o'clock one afternoon, and drove full gallop, with postillions, up to my father's house. At that time my father was ferryman, and Mr. Burton wanted a boat to take him to Barton. "But," said my father, "there is no water," when the Member of Parliament said, "Won't money make the boat swim?" "I'm afraid not," was my father's reply. At that time, however, there was a ballast lighter at Cliffe, and my father and I went to see if we could borrow the lighter's boat; we succeeded, and as it was a great distance from the water (the tide being low), my father asked the Cliffe men to help in launching it, when about thirty of themcame to his assistance. Mr. Burton left a guinea to be spent in drink for the men. We then started in the boat, and took Mr. Burton to Barrow, there being nousablejetty at Barton. I was to run to Barton for a post-chaise, but before we got to the shore the boat ran aground, so out of the boat I jumped, and away I ran, until I came to a pool of water, about twelve feet deep. Almost mad with excitement, I sprang into it, and small as I was, soon crossed it and was ashore. Mr. Burton saw me in the water, and he was afraid I should be drowned, and when I returned with the chaise he gave me a sovereign, the first I ever had, so you may be sure I was mightily pleased. I found my father and the men drunk, and they gave me some rum. On being asked, "What Mr. Burton had given me," I evaded the question by saying "A shilling," for I was of opinion that if my father had known I had got so much as I had, he would have taken most of it to spend in drink. So I hastened home and gave the sovereign to my mother, and we were both highly delighted to possess so large a sum of money.
'The following amusing circumstance took place in 1836-7, when I belonged to the Barton and Hessle packet. One day we had put on board the "tow boat" a great number of fat beasts, belonging, if I remember rightly, to Mr. Wood, of South Dalton. The "tow boat" was attached to the steamer by a large thick rope. We had not got far from Barton when the boat capsized, and we were in an awful mess. The boat soon filled with water; some of the beasts swam one way and some another, while several got entangled in the rails attached to the boat's side, and were every moment in danger of breaking their legs. So seizing an axe I jumped into the water and cut away the rails, and then went in pursuit of the oxen, heading them round in the water and causing them, by shouts and gestures, to swim for the land. Most ofthem were driven back to Barton and landed safely, others swam across the Humber and were landed at Hessle. I was up to my chest in water and mud for nearly three hours swimming backwards and forwards after the beasts; sometimes I had hold of their tails, and anon had to meet them and turn them towards the shore. There are lots of people now living at Barton who saw the affray, and who could describe it much better than I have done.
JOHN AND THE BEASTS.
'A similar incident took place in 1844. I was captain of a ferry-boat plying between Winteringham and Brough. One Sabbath-day I was taking a load of beasts from Brough to Winteringham, and when we had got about half way across the Humber, the boat upset, and the beasts were thrown into the water. I was afraid they all would be drowned, and, in spite of all I could do, some of them were. I jumped overboard and drove some of them back to Brough, while others swam to the Lincolnshire side of the river. I was swimming about after the beasts for five hours, chasing them backwards and forwards, turning them this way and that, and doing what nobody but myself would have done. At length, several men came to our assistance, and when we had got the poor animals out of the water, we hastened to the public-house at the harbour-side, and got drunk. I kept my wet clothes on until they dried on my back. This was one of the most wretched days of my life. My anxiety about the beasts, the exhaustion brought on by my efforts to get them safe to land, and the sense of misery and degradation I felt when I thought of the plight I was found in on the blessed Sabbath-day, I shall never forget.
'On one occasion I was helping to load the "Magna Charter," and being half drunk, I fell into Hull harbour, with upwards of eight stones of coal on my back, but through foolish bravado I refused to let the bag drop into the water. After being in the waterseveral minutes, I swam to the landing with the coals on my back, amid the deafening shouts of scores of spectators. I look back on this act of temerity with feelings of shame and unmixed regret.'
HE IS CAST OVERBOARD.
When sailing from Hull to Barton, one night in the year 1842, John was thrown overboard. The night was dark, the wind was blowing a heavy gale from the west, and every moment the spring-tide, then at its height, carried him further from the packet, which soon became unmanageable. The boat was launched, but the engineer, who had charge of it, became greatly agitated and much alarmed, and uttered the most piteous cries. 'I felt more for him than I did for myself,' says John, 'and though one moment lost in the trough of the sea, and the next on the crest of the billows, now near the boat and again fifty yards from it, I cried out, 'Scull away. Bob, scull away, thou'll soon be at me.' After being in the water half-an-hour I reached the boat in safety. All this time I had on the following garments, made of very stout pilot-cloth: a pair of trousers, a double-breasted waistcoat, a surtout coat, and a heavy great coat, which came down to my ancles, a thick shawl round my neck, and a new pair of Wellington boots on my feet. I had in my pockets the following sums of money: £25 in bank notes; 25 sovereigns; £4 16s. 6d. in silver, and 8d. in coppers; also a tobacco-box, a large pocket knife, and a silver watch and guard. I made an attempt to throw off some of my clothes, but the thought of losing another man's money checked me. Besides, the suit of clothes I had on was bran-new, and being a poor man, and only just earning a livelihood, I could not brook the thought of having to get a new "rigging." When a wave carried me a great way from the boat, I unbuttoned my coat and prepared to throw it off, that I might more easily swim to land. And when it seemed certain I should have to make this attempt, I felt for myknife, that I might cut off my boots, and I believe I could have done it; but, after a desperate effort, I approached within a few yards of the boat, when I again buttoned my coat. I felt confident I could have reached the shore—a distance of one mile—had I been compelled to make the trial. My Wellington boots had nearly cost me my life, as they were heavy and difficult to swim in, and I never wore a pair after this fearful night.'