Dr. Cortland Myers, of Boston, relates the following story, as told by
a ship’s surgeon:
On our last trip a boy fell overboard from the deck. I didn’t
know who he was, and the crew hastened out to save him. They
brought him on board the ship, took off his outer garments,
turned him over a few times, and worked his hands and his feet.
When they had done all they knew how to do, I came up to be of
assistance, and they said he was dead and beyond help. I turned
away as I said to them, “I think you’ve done all you could”; but
just then a sudden impulse told me I ought to go over and see
what I could do. I went over and looked down into the boy’s face
and discovered that it was my own boy. Well, you may believe I
didn’t think the last thing had been done. I pulled off my coat
and bent over that boy; I blew in his nostrils and breathed into
his mouth; I turned him over and over, and simply begged God to
bring him back to life, and for four long hours I worked, until
just at sunset I began to see the least flutter of breath that
told me he lived. Oh, I will never see another boy drown without
taking off my coat in the first instance and going to him and
trying to save him as if I knew he were my own boy.
(1071)
* * * * *
There was once a Quaker, John Hartman, whose son enlisted in the
army. Not long after he had marched away as a soldier, a battle
was fought. In the list of the missing appeared the Quaker’s
son’s name. The father went to the field of carnage, and scanned
the many upturned faces. He listened to the faintest cry of the
wounded to discover if it were the voice of his son. More than
one lying in the agony of death thought, “I wish that were my
father.”
After the darkness of night fell he lighted his lantern and
continued his search. Then the wind began to blow and his
light went out. A new thought came to him. Forming a trumpet
of his hands he called, “John Hartman, thy father calleth for
thee.” There was no answer. Going on farther he called again,
“John Hartman, thy father calleth for thee.” There was a faint
moan and a “Here I am father.” How gladly that father hastened
forward and brought his son home!
Many are being beaten down in the fierce battle of sin and evil.
They have fallen in the darkness and are perishing. The loving
heavenly Father is calling to them. If they make the faintest
cry of response, “Lord, here I am,” how gladly will He hasten to
their relief. (Text.)
(1072)
See CONFIDENCE.