Читать книгу The World of Waters - Mrs. David Osborne - Страница 6

"The first time I saw Frederic Hamilton was on board the 'Neptune,' outward bound for Jamaica: he was then a lad of twelve or fourteen years: I cannot be sure which; but I remember he was tall for his age, and extremely good looking.

"There were so many circumstances during the voyage, which brought me in contact with this boy, and so many occasions to arouse my sympathies in his behalf, (for he was evidently in delicate health, and unfit for laborious work.) that in a short time I became deeply interested concerning him, and I determined as soon as I had recovered from sea-sickness, to watch for an opportunity of inquiring into the particulars of his earlier history.

"I must first tell you, before proceeding with the story of my hero, that the captain of the 'Neptune' was a very harsh, cruel man, and made every one on board his vessel as uncomfortable as he could by his violent temper, and ungentlemanly conduct. I was the only lady-passenger; and had it not been for the kindness of my fellow-travellers, I scarcely think I could have survived all the terrors of that dreadful voyage. The sailors, without one dissentient voice, declared they had never sailed with such a master, and wished they had known a trifle of the rough side of his character before they engaged with him, and then he would have had to seek long enough to make up a crew, for not one of them would have shipped with him.' They even went so far as to say, that if at any time they could escape from the vessel, they would not hesitate a moment, but would get away, and leave the captain to work the ship by himself. I could not take part with the captain, because I saw too much of his tyranny to entertain a particle of respect for him, and I confess I was not in the least surprised at the language of the ill-used sailors. He had no good feature in his character that I could discover; for he was mean, vulgar, discontented, and brutal. He never encouraged the men in the performance of their duty, by kind expressions; on the contrary, he never addressed them on the most simple matter without oaths and imprecations, and oftentimes enforced his commands with a rope's end or his fist.

"We had yet other causes of discomfort besides these continual uproars. Contrary winds, constant gales, and violent storms, made our hearts fail from fear. We knew the captain could not expect His blessing, whose laws he openly set at defiance; indeed, by his life and conversation, he proved that he 'cared for none of these things.'

"I believe he was a clever seaman: he had certainly had much experience, having been upwards of fifty times across the Atlantic: so that we felt at ease with regard to the management of the ship. But we did not put our trust in the skill of the captain alone; for of what avail would that be if the Lord withheld his hand, and left us to perish? No! my dears, we saw that the captain never prayed, and we felt there was a greater necessity for us to be diligent in the duty; and daily, nay hourly, we entreated the forbearance and assistance of Almighty God to conduct us in safety to land.

"After a time, the men became very unmanageable; for they hated the captain: he treated them like slaves, and imposed upon them on every occasion; so that at length, goaded to desperation by his cruelty, they positively refused to handle a rope until he agreed to the terms they intended to propose.

"The captain, fierce as he was, felt it would be useless to contend with twenty angry men, and he knew the passengers would not befriend him: he therefore deemed it expedient to endeavor to conciliate them by promises he never intended to perform, and, after a few hours' confusion, all was again comparatively quiet.

"I could tell you much more about the quarrels and disturbances of which we unfortunate passengers had to be the passive witnesses, and which, accustomed as we were to them in the day-time, filled me with greater horror than I can describe, breaking upon the stillness of the night, when all was quiet but the troubled ocean, whose murmurs, instead of arousing, served to lull us into a deeper repose. Yes, often, when no other sound but the low splashing of the waves against the side of the ship was to be heard, and we were all either sleeping quietly, or thinking deeply of home and friends, loud cries and shouts would reach us, and, in an instant, we would all be gathered together to inquire into the cause of the disturbance. It was always the captain and some of the men fighting; and on one occasion, the battle was so close to us, actually in the cabin, between the captain and the steward, that I screamed aloud, and do not remember ever to have been so much alarmed.

"But as my principal object is to make you acquainted with Frederic Hamilton, and not with my adventures, I will say no more about Captain Simmons, and his ship, than is necessary in the course of my tale.

"I was just getting over the unpleasant sensations of sea-sickness, when, one morning as I was dressing in my berth, a noise of scuffling on the quarter-deck, over my head, interrupted my operations. I laid my brush on the table, and listened. At first I could distinguish nothing, and, thinking it was the captain and a sailor disputing, I continued my toilet; when, suddenly, a piercing cry reached me, and I knew the voice to be Frederic's. At the same time the sound of heavy blows fell on my ear, and again I recognized his voice: he called out so loudly, that I heard him distinctly say, 'Oh, sir! have mercy. Pray, pray do not kill me! Oh, sir! think of my mother, and have pity upon me. I will try to please you, sir; indeed, indeed, I will. Oh, mercy! mercy!' His cries became fainter and fainter, while the blows continued, accompanied occasionally by the gruff voice of the captain, until, my soul shrinking with horror, I could endure it no longer. I rushed out of my cabin, and there on the poop beheld a sight I can never forget. Poor Frederic was lashed to the shrouds with his hands above his head, which was then drooping on his shoulder; his back bare and bleeding. The brutal captain was standing by with a thick rope in his grasp, which, by the crimson stains upon it, sufficiently proved the vile purpose for which its services had just been required.

"I called out hastily and angrily to the captain to cease beating the boy, and declared I would fetch out the gentlemen to interfere if he did not stop his unmanly behavior. He glared on me with the fiercest expression imaginable (for he was in a towering rage,) and told me I had better not meddle with him in the performance of his duty, for he would do as he liked; he was master of the ship and nobody else, and he would like to see anybody else try to be. Then he made use of such fearful language, that I dreaded to approach him; but my fear lest he should again attack the boy, overcame my fear for him in his anger; and I ascended the ladder. He desired, nay commanded, me to retire to my cabin; but I said, 'No, captain, I will not stir hence until you release Frederic, and if you strike him again I will be a witness of your cowardly behavior towards a poor boy whose only fault is want of strength to do the work assigned him. I am quite sure, whatever you may say on board-ship, you will not be able to justify your conduct on shore.'

"He did not again address me; but, muttering curses loud and deep, he untied the fainting boy, and, giving him a savage push, laid him prostrate on the deck: he then walked forward, and began to shout aloud his orders to the men on the main-deck.

"The man at the helm, pitying the poor boy, called to the boatswain, who was standing on the forecastle, and begged him to send some water to throw over the lad, and some dressing for his wounded back. I stayed by him for a short time, and when he was somewhat recovered, I went below.

"I fancied, when I met the captain at the dinner-table, that he looked rather ashamed; for I had related the whole affair to the other passengers, and he could perceive, by their indifference towards him, that they despised him for his cowardice. He tried to be jocular, but could not succeed in exciting our risibility: we did not even encourage his jokes by the shadow of a smile, and he seemed uneasy during the remainder of the time we sat at table.

"I now felt more than ever interested in the fate of Frederic Hamilton and was not sorry I had said so much in the morning. Prudence might have dictated milder language certainly; but my indignation was aroused; and when I found that my remonstrance had the desired effect, I did not repent of my impetuosity.

"About a week after this unhappy occurrence, as I was leaning over the rail on the quarter-deck, watching the shoals of porpoises (for we were then in a warm latitude) playing in the bright blue sea at the vessel's side, the boatswain, who was a fine specimen of a sea-faring man, came up and, seating himself on a fowl-coop near me, commenced sorting rope-yarns for the men to spin. Presently Frederic walked up the ladder with a bucket of water to pour into the troughs for the thirsty poultry, who were stretching their necks through the bars and opening their bills, longing for the refreshing draught: the heat was overpowering, and the poor things were closely packed in their miserable coops.

"I remarked to Williams how pale the boy looked, and how thin, and said, I feared he was not only badly treated, but had not proper nourishment.

"'Why, ma'am,' said he, 'to say the truth, the lad's not been used to this kind of living, and it was the worst thing as ever happened to him to be brought on board the "Neptune," with our skipper for a master. You see, madam,' he continued, 'his father was a parson; but he is dead, and the mother tried hard to persuade the lad (for, poor thing, he is her only boy,) to turn parson too, when his father died. But no. The boy had set his mind on going to sea; and as he had no friends who could help him to go to school or college, and his godfather, Captain Hartly, offered to pay the apprenticeship fees if his mother would let him learn navigation, she at last, though much against her will, consented that he should be bound apprentice to our skipper here. But it pretty nigh broke her heart to part with the child; and she begged the captain to use him gently and bear with him a little, for he was not so hardy as many boys of his age; and, moreover, had been accustomed to kindness and delicate treatment. The lad is a fine noble-hearted lad, but he is not strong; and it is my opinion that the master wants to get rid of him to have the fee for nothing, and he's trying what hard living, hard work, and hard usage will do towards making him go the faster. But he had better mind what he is about. There's many a man on board that can speak a good word for Frederic when he gets ashore; and, if all comes out, it will go hard with the master. The poor lad cries himself to sleep every night, and when he is asleep he has no rest, for in his dreams he talks of his mother and sister, and often sobs loud enough to wake the men whose hammocks swing near him. I am very sorry to see all this, for he is a fine boy, as I said before, and we are all fond of him; but he's not fit for this kind of work, leastwise not yet. I am glad you have taken notice of him, madam; for, though you cannot do any good while we're at sea, may be when you come ashore you won't forget poor Frederic Hamilton.'

"When the boatswain left me, I walked up and down the deck pondering on these things, and contriving all sorts of schemes for the relief of my young friend, and wondering how I could manage to have some conversation with him on the subject; when a circumstance occurred, which at once enabled me not only to learn all I was anxious to know, but also in a great measure to improve his condition on board the 'Neptune.'

"I knew that Frederic must have been trained up in the fear of the Lord, for his daily conduct testified that he not only knew what was right, but tried to perform it also; and notwithstanding the severe trials he had to undergo, while with us on the voyage to Jamaica, yet I never heard a harsh or disrespectful expression fall from his lips; but he would attribute all the captain's unkind treatment of him to something wrong in himself, and he every day tried beyond his strength to obtain a look of approbation from his stern master. But, alas! he knew not to whom he looked; although he was cuffed and kicked about whenever he tried to be brisk in the task allotted to him, he was always the same patient, melancholy little fellow, throughout the voyage.

"Sometimes during the night watch, I have caught the musical tones of his voice, as he walked the quarter-deck; when, the captain being in his berth fast asleep, the boy was comparatively happy; and as the ship sailed quietly along in the pale moonlight, his thoughts would wander back to the home of his beloved mother and sister, and, the buoyancy of youthful spirits gaining the ascendency over more melancholy musings, he would for a while forget his present sorrows, and almost involuntarily break out in singing some of the sweet hymns in which he had been accustomed to join when the little family assembled for devotional exercises.

"It was then I used to open my cabin window, and breathlessly listen to the clear voice of my gentle protégé; and not unfrequently could even distinguish the words he sang; now loud—now soft, as he approached or retreated. One hymn in particular seemed to be a special favorite, and was so applicable to his situation, that I have remembered several of the verses.

"'Jesus, I my cross have taken,

All to leave and follow thee:

Destitute, despised, forsaken,

Thou from hence my all shall be.

Perish every fond ambition,

All I've sought, and hoped, and known;

Yet how rich is my condition—

God and heaven are still my own!

"'Man may trouble and distress me;

'Twill but drive me to thy breast.

Life with trials hard may press me;

Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.

Oh! 'tis not in grief to harm me,

While thy love is left to me!

Oh! 'twere not in joy to charm me,

Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

"'Take, my soul, thy full salvation;

Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care;

Joy to find in every station

Something still to do or bear!

Think what Spirit dwells within thee;

What a Father's smile is thine;

What thy Saviour did to win thee—

Child of Heav'n, should'st thou repine?

"'Haste then on from grace to glory,

Armed by faith, and winged by prayer;

Heaven's eternal day's before thee;

Heaven's own hand shall guide thee there.

Soon shall close thy earthly mission;

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days;

Hope soon change to glad fruition,

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.'"

EMMA. "What a beautiful hymn, grandmamma. I should like to learn those words. But I want to hear how you got Frederic away from that horrid man, and what became of him afterwards, because I cannot understand why you are telling us this story. I know you never tell us anything for amusement only."

GRANDY. "No, my dear child; this story is not solely for your amusement. This morning I observed a strangeness in George's behavior, when he was requested to put up his microscope, and assist in laying the cloth, because John was out, and he was aware that Hannah had sprained her foot, and could not walk up and down stairs. He said such extraordinary things about being ill-used, and worked hard, and never having an hour to amuse himself, that I am desirous of convincing him that it is quite possible (with God's assistance) not only to bear all this, without thinking it a shame, as George termed it, but even to praise God for the troubles and trials which may fall to your lot; and I also wish to inform him, that there are some boys more patient and grateful than himself. But I see, by the color mounting to his cheeks, that my boy is sorry for his past behavior; nevertheless, I will continue my story. And now for the incident, as I presume you will call it, Emma.

"We were about a week's voyage from Jamaica. The wind was favorable, but light, the sky clear, the sun directly overhead;—we were all beginning to feel the effects of a warm climate; the sailors were loosely clad in canvass trousers, striped shirts, and straw hats, and went lazily about their work;—the ship moved as lazily through the rippling waves;—the man at the helm drew his hat over his eyes, to shade them from the glare of the sun, and lounged listlessly upon the wheel;—the captain was below taking a nap, to the great relief of men and boys;—some of the passengers were sitting on the poop, under an awning, drowsily perusing a book or old newspaper; some leaning on the taffrail, watching the many-colored dolphin, and those beautiful, but spiteful, little creatures, the Portuguese men-of-war, which look so splendid as they sail gently on the smooth surface of the blue ocean, every little ripple causing a change of color in their transparent sails. I was admiring these curious navigators, as I stood with two or three friends, who, like myself, felt idle, and cared only to dispose of the time in the most agreeable manner attainable in such a ship, with such a commander; and I said, rather thoughtlessly, considering Frederic was at my side, 'How I should like to possess one of those little creatures; I suppose they can be caught?'

"Frederic moved from me, and an instant after he was on the forecastle; presently, I heard a splash in the water, and, leaning over the rail, I saw him swimming after a fine specimen, which shone in all the bright and varied colors of the rainbow, as it floated proudly by. He had no sooner reached the treasure, and made a grasp at it, than he gave a loud scream, for the creature had encircled the poor boy's body with its long fibrous legs, or, as they are properly called, 'tentacula'. He struggled violently, for he was in great agony; at length he escaped, and was helped on deck by one of the men, who said, he wished, 'he had known what the youngster had in his head, and he would have prevented him attempting to catch such a thing,' for he was aware of the extraordinary peculiarities of these singular little creatures. When he came on deck, he looked exactly as if he had been rolled in a bed of nettles, and the steward had to rub him with oil, and give him medicine to reduce the fever caused by the pain of the sting.

"You may be sure, that directly the captain heard of this affair, he was more disposed to chastise, than to pity, our friend Frederic; but I interfered, and begged he would leave him to me, as I had been the cause of the disaster, and must now make amends by attending him, until he was well enough to return to his duty. The captain was very much displeased, and I regretted extremely that a foolish wish of mine should have caused so much annoyance, and felt it my duty to endeavor to alleviate the boy's sufferings as much as possible. Poor Frederic! he was laid up three or four days, and had experienced enough to caution him against ever again attempting to capture a 'Portuguese man-of-war.'^[1]

"I used to sit by his hammock for hours talking and reading to him; when one day, as I closed my book to leave him, he said with a sigh, while tears filled his eyes, 'I am very grateful to you, madam, for your kindness to me: you have been a friend when I most needed one; how my dear mother would love you if she knew what you had done for her boy. But I do not deserve that any one should love me; I have been wilful and disobedient, and my sorrows are not half so great as, in justice for my wickedness, they ought to be; but every day proves to me that God is long-suffering and merciful, and doeth us good continually. I have thanked him often and often for making you love me, and I feel so happy that in the midst of my trials, God has raised me up a friend to cheer me in the path of duty; to teach me how to correct my faults; and to sympathize with me in my daily sorrows. God will bless you for it, madam,' he continued: 'he will bless you for befriending the orphan in his loneliness; and my mother will bless you, and pray God to shower his mercies thick and plenteous on you all the days of your life.' He paused, and, burying his face in the scanty covering of his bed, he wept unrestrainedly. I was hastening away, for my heart was full, and the effort to check my tears almost choked me; when he raised his head, and, stretching his hand towards me, said, 'I want to tell you something more, madam, if you will not think me bold; but my heart reproaches me every time I see your kind face; I feel as if I were imposing upon you, and fancy that, did you know more about me, you would deem me unworthy of your interest and attention. May I relate to you all I can remember of myself before I came here? It will be such a comfort to have some person near me, who will allow me to talk of those I love, without ridiculing me, and calling me "home-sick."'

"This was the very point at which I had been for some time aiming, as I did not wish to ask him for the particulars, not knowing whether the question might wound his feelings; but now that he offered to tell me, I was delighted, and readily answered his appeal, assuring him nothing would give me greater pleasure than to hear an account of himself from his own lips: 'But,' I added, 'I cannot wait now, for they are striking "eight bells:" I must go in to dinner: after dinner I will come to you again, and listen to all you have to say; so farewell for the present, my dear boy, in an hour's time I will be with you.'

"As soon as dinner was over, I returned to Frederic: he looked so pleased, I shall never forget the glow that overspread his fair face, as I entered the berth, for he was really handsome; his eyes were bright hazel, his hair auburn, and waving over his head in the most graceful curls, while his complexion was the clearest and most beautiful I had ever seen. I found a seat on a chest near his hammock, and, telling him I was ready to attend to his narrative, he began:—

"'The first impression I have of home was when I was about five years old, and was surrounded by a little troop of brothers and sisters, for I can remember when there was seven healthy, happy children in my "boyhood's home." We lived at Feltham, Middlesex, in the pretty parsonage-house. It was situated at the end of a long avenue of elm-trees whose arching boughs, meeting over our heads, sheltered us from the mid-day glare. Here in the winter we used to trundle our hoops; and in the summer stroll about to gather bright berries from the hedges to make chains for the adornment of our bowers. But death came to our happy home, and made sad the hearts of our good parents: the whooping-cough was very prevalent in the village, and a child of one of the villagers, who occasionally came to my father for relief, brought the contagion amongst us, and in a short time we were all seized with it. Two sisters died in one day, and the morning they were laid in the grave, sweet baby breathed his last. Then my mother fell sick, and she was very ill indeed; my brother and I were placed in a cot by her bedside, and when pain has prevented me sleeping, I have been comforted by hearing this dear, kind mother beseeching God to spare her boys. She seemed regardless of her own sufferings, and only repined when she thought how useful she might have been to us, had she too not been laid on a bed of sickness. But fever and delirium came on, and we were removed from her chamber. The next day poor Frank died, and was buried by the side of Clara and Lucy. The funeral service was read by my dear father, who was enabled to stand under all these trials of his faith, for God sustained him; and, having trained us up in the fear and admonition of the Lord, he did not grieve as one without hope, when his darlings were taken from him, for he knew they were gone to a better world, and were happy in the bosom of their heavenly Father. His greatest trial was the illness of my mother; but before we were all quite well, she was able to leave her chamber, and once again kneel with us at our family altar, to return thanks to God for his many mercies. There were only three of her seven children left to her, and when my father blessed God that they were not rendered childless, my mother's feelings overpowered her, and she was borne fainting from the room.

"'But I fear I am tiring you with these melancholy accounts, madam. You know not how deeply I enjoy the recollection of those days, for through this wilderness of sorrow there was a narrow stream of happiness placidly gliding, to which we could turn amidst the troubles of the world, and refresh our fainting souls; and, though we grieved at the remembrance of the loved ones now gone from us, yet we would not have recalled them to these scenes of woe, to share future troubles with us. Oh no! my dear father was a faithful follower of Christ; he used to show us so many causes for thankfulness in our late afflictions, which he said were "blessings in disguise," that happiness and tranquillity were soon restored to our home.

"'Two or three years glided by, and when I was eleven years old, my father, one day, called me into his study, and, looking seriously at me, said, "Frederic, my child, God has been very good to you; he has spared your life through many dangers; you, of all my sons, only remain to me, and may your days be many and prosperous! Now, what can you render unto the Lord for all his mercies towards you; ought not the life God has so graciously spared be in gratitude consecrated to his service? Tell me what you think in this matter. I speak thus early, my dear Frederic, because I wish you to consider well, before you are sent from home, what are to be your future plans; for as life is uncertain, and none of us know the day nor the hour in which the summons may arrive, I should feel more happy, were I assured that you would tread in my footsteps when I am gone; that you, my only boy," and he clasped me in his arms as he spoke, "that you would be a comfort to your mother and sisters, when my labors are ended, and would carry on the work which I have begun in this portion of the Lord's vineyard, and His blessing and the blessing of a fond father will ever attend your steps."

"'I raised my eyes to my father's face, and, for the first time, noticed how pale and haggard he looked; all the bright and joyous expression of his countenance when in health had given place to a mild and melancholy shade of sadness, which affected me painfully; for the thought struck me that my father was soon to be called away.

"'I evaded answering his question, and when he found I did not reply, he said, "My son, let us ask the direction of Almighty God in this great work." I knelt with him, and was lost in admiration. I could not remove my eyes from his face during the prayer; his whole soul seemed absorbed in communion with God, and as I gazed, I wondered what the glorious angels must be like, when the face of my beloved father, while here on earth, looked so exquisitely lovely, glowing in the beauty of holiness.

"'For several days, the conversation in the study was continually in my mind; I could think of nothing else. I did not like the profession well enough to have chosen it myself, for I disliked retirement; but after an inward struggle, betwixt my inclination and my duty, I resolved, that, to please my father, I would study for the church. One day, my godfather, Captain Hartly, came to see us, and he took great notice of me. He asked me if I should like to go to sea? Then he told me such fine things about life in the navy, and on board ship, that my wavering mind fired at his descriptions, and I determined to be a sailor, for such a life would be more congenial to my feelings than the quiet life of a country clergyman. I did not mention this to my father, for he was ill, and I feared to grieve him; nevertheless, had he asked me, I should certainly have opened my heart to him without dissimulation. I often fretted when I thought how sorry he would be to hear that I did not care to be engaged in the service of his Master; when one morning, as I was lying in bed, a servant came into my room, and desired me to hasten to my father's chamber, to receive his blessing, for he was dying.

"'I did hasten. I know not how I got there. I rushed into his arms, I threw myself on his neck, and felt as if I too must die. He was too much exhausted to speak; but he placed his hand on my head, and, slightly moving his lips, the expression of his features told, in plain language, that his heart was engaged in prayer. He was praying, and for me—me, his unworthy son, and when I considered that I could not comply with his wishes without being a hypocrite, I thought my heart would burst. For several minutes, was my dear father thus occupied; then, turning to my weeping mother, who was kneeling by the bedside, he softly uttered her name. Alas! it was with his parting breath, for gently, as an infant falls asleep on the bosom of its nurse, did my revered parent fall asleep in the arms of that Saviour who had been his guide and comforter through life, and who accompanied him through the dark valley, and by his presence made bright the narrow path which leads to the abode of the redeemed.

"'The only earthly friend we had to look to, in our bereavement, was Captain Hartly; and he could only promise to assist me if I would enter the navy, or go on board a merchant-ship. My poor mother objected to this, and I remained at home another twelvemonth, and again mourned the loss of a dear relative. My sister Bertha fell a victim to consumption, exactly nine months after the death of my lamented father. It was cruel to leave my mother under such circumstances, particularly as she remonstrated with me so earnestly on my project of going to sea, and offered to make any sacrifice, if I would consent to go to college, and follow out my father's plans. But my heart was fixed; and every visit from my godfather tended to inflame me still more with a longing for a sea-faring life; and, at length, I told him I was willing to be bound apprentice to a captain of a merchant-ship, rather than lose the chance of going to sea. He eagerly embraced the offer, and in a few weeks the affair was settled satisfactorily for all parties but my dear mother and sister. Marian wept bitterly when the letter came which concluded the arrangements, and informed me what day to be on board. My mother went to see the captain, and entreated him to be kind to me. But she knew not the disposition of the man to whose care I was entrusted, or I am sure nothing would have induced her to consent to my plans. I dare say it is all for the best. I shall, perhaps, learn my duty better with Captain Simmons than I should have done with a kinder master. It is well my mother knows nothing of this; for, even believing I should be treated with the utmost kindness, the separation was almost more than she had fortitude to bear, and she bade me farewell nearly heart-broken. I have never ceased to regret that I preferred my own will to the authority of my parents; I deserve all I suffer, and much more, for my rebellion against them. This, madam, is all I have to tell you. I hope you will not cast me off, because I have been so self-willed; for here I have no friend to aid me, and I still feel the same desire for my present mode of life. I am quite sure I am not suited for a clergyman; but I do not think I could live long with this captain. If I could get shipped in another vessel, with a master not quite so severe, in a little time I should be able to work for money, and assist my dear mother; and if she saw me occasionally, and knew I was well and happy, she would be content and thankful.'

"Such was Frederic's simple account of himself. In five days we came in sight of Port Royal, and anchored off there during the night: the next day we went ashore, and my brother Herbert, who was a merchant in Kingston, was ready to receive me, and welcome me to his house.

"I took the earliest opportunity of speaking to him concerning Frederic: he promised to make some arrangement for the boy's advantage, and he fulfilled his promise. He got him transferred to the 'Albatross,' Captain Hill, a kind, gentlemanly man. There Frederic remained for several years, and gained such approbation by his exemplary conduct, that, at length, he became first mate, and afterwards (on the death of Captain Hill) master.

"A few years back, Captain Hartly died; leaving him considerable property. He made it his first business to settle his mother comfortably, and she is now residing with Marian (who married a surgeon,) in St. John's Wood. He next purchased a ship, and has already made six voyages in her to the West Indies; so that you see all things have prospered with Frederic Hamilton, because 'he feared the Lord always.' I hear from him after every voyage, and have seen him several times since he became a great man and a ship-owner; but he is not altered in one respect, for he is still the same grateful, affectionate creature as when I first met him on board the 'Neptune.' His story proves the truth of the text, 'I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his children begging their bread.'"

Mr. and Mrs. Wilton were as much pleased as the children with this little story of Grandy's reminiscences. "And now, George," said Mr. Wilton, "carry my drawings into the study, for I hear John coming up-stairs with the supper."

George collected his papa's pencils and paper. Emma folded up the cotton frock she had been making for one of her young pupils in the Sunday-school, locked her work-box, cleared the table of all signs of their recent occupation, and took her seat by the side of her brother.

The children were not allowed except on particular occasions to sit up after ten o'clock; but as it was Mr. Wilton's wish that they should be present night and morning at family prayers he always had supper about nine o'clock, to give them time for their devotions before retiring to rest.

Supper over, the domestics were summoned, and, having humbly petitioned for pardon and grace, they besought the protection of Almighty God during the night season; then, with hearts filled with love to God, and good-will towards all men, they retired to their several apartments, and silence reigned throughout the house.