The World of Waters - Mrs. David Osborne
"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 protege; 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]
[Footnote 1: The ancients are said to have derived the art of
navigation from these animals, which, in calm weather, are seen
floating on the surface of the water, with some of their tentacula
extended at their sides, while two arms that are furnished with
membranaceous appendages serve the office of sails. These animals
raise themselves to the surface of the sea, by ejecting the
sea-water from their shells; and on the approach of danger, they
draw their arms, and with them a quantity of water, which occasions
them to sink immediately. By possessing this power, they are but
rarely taken perfect, as the instant they are disturbed they
disappear. They are more frequently caught in the nets of fishermen
than any other way, or found left dry on rocks.]
"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.
CHAPTER II.
Beautiful, sublime and glorious;
Mild, majestic, foaming, free;--
Over time itself victorious,
Image of eternity.
Every day throughout the following week the young folks were busily
engaged. It is needless to specify the nature of their occupations,
or the reason of their untiring industry: it will be sufficient for
their credit to mention that they did not work with the foolish
desire of ostentatiously displaying a larger portion of information
than the rest of the party, but really because they were fond of
study; and as they advanced in knowledge, they became more sensible
of their own comparative ignorance, and more anxious to learn. They
made no parade of their own abilities; were equally gratified at the
meetings, whether they were required to speak, or be silent; and no
evil passions disturbed their repose, when they heard other members
more praised than themselves. To prove this, the young lady to whom
Emma had decidedly given the preference amongst her companions, was
three years her senior, had nearly completed her education, and was
a clever intelligent girl; consequently, it was very probable that
she would far surpass her in knowledge, and be in fact more
serviceable to the society than Emma ever had been, or could hope to
be, for some time to come. But Emma's heart was a stranger to the
wicked feeling of jealousy; it was overflowing with kindness; and
she was delighted that she knew a person so agreeable, and so
efficient to introduce, and thought how admirably they would travel
"o'er the glad waters of the bright blue sea," if all the new
members were as well qualified as Dora Leslie.