Some few years since, a minister was preaching at Plymouth, when a
request was sent to the pulpit to this effect: "The thanksgiving
of this congregation is desired to Almighty God, by the captain,
passengers, and crew of a West Indiaman, for their merciful deliverance
during the late tempest."
The following day the minister went on board, and entered into
conversation with the passengers, when a lady thus addressed him:
"O, sir, what an invaluable blessing is personal religion! Never did
I see it so exemplified as in my poor Ellen during the storm. When
we expected every wave to entomb us all, my mind was in a horrible
state--I was afraid to die. Ellen would come to me and say, with all
possible composure: 'Never mind, missie; look to Jesus Christ. He
made--he rule the sea.' And when we neared the shore, and were at
a loss to know where we were, fearing every minute to strike on the
rocks, Ellen said, with the same composure as before, 'Don't fear,
missie; look to Jesus Christ--He the Rock; _no shipwreck on that Rock_;
He save to the uttermost. Don't fear, missie; look to Jesus Christ!'"
The minister wished to see this poor, though rich African. She was
called, and, in the presence of the sailors, the following conversation
took place:
_Minister._ "Well, Ellen, I am glad to find you know something of Jesus
Christ."
_Ellen._ "Jesus Christ, massa! Oh, He be very good to my soul! Oh! He
be very dear to me."
_Minister._ "How long since you first knew the Saviour?"
_Ellen._ "Why, some time ago me hear Massa Kitchin preach about the
blessed Jesus. He say to us colored people--the Lord Jesus come down
from the good world; He pity us poor sinners; we die, or He die; _He
die, but we no die_. He suffer on the cross--He spill precious blood
for us poor sinners. Me feel me sinner; me cry; me pray to Jesus, and
He save _me_ by His precious blood."
_Minister._ "And when did you see Mr. Kitchin last?"
_Ellen._ "Sir, the fever take him; he lie bed; he call us his children.
He say, 'Come round the bed, my children.' He then say, 'My children, I
go to God; meet me before God;' and then he fall asleep."
_Minister._ "Oh, then, Mr. Kitchin is dead, is he?"
_Ellen._ "Dead, sir? oh, no! Mr. Kitchin no die; he fall asleep in
Jesus. He has gone to heaven."
"LITTLE WA."
There is a boy of tender years now in England, whose story beautifully
illustrates the loving care of God for an afflicted heathen child. He
is the son of an African chief, and two or three years since you might
have seen him playing about his father's and mother's yard--as happy
as the day was long--no kid frisked so merrily, no kitten was fuller
of fun. But "little Wa" was deaf and dumb, and soon his mother, "Ti
Bla," was to die, and then his father, "Ta Qwia," was to be laid by her
side under the palm-tree. God foreknew this, and see how graciously He
provided for this helpless orphan.
Little Wa was very fond of wandering from home; and wherever he went,
whether to the huts of the natives or the houses of the colonists, he
was a great favorite, and everybody treated him kindly. He liked to
sport about with those of his own age, and would amuse the tribes by
the hour. Often he came to the mission station, and the missionary got
quite attached to him, and encouraged him to stay, and gave him a white
shirt--his first civilized suit. This delighted him, and kept him
hovering around for a week together; then off he trotted to the town.
By-and-by he reappeared with his shirt dirty, and the missionary
exchanged it for a clean one. "He seemed so pleased to be with us, and
was such a good boy," says the missionary, "that pitying his sad case,
I thought I would try and get him into my family." He asked his father,
who was still an idolater, if he would let him keep him. His father
said, "Yes, he might keep him if he could." He meant that "Wa" was
such a gad-about that no one could keep him. However, the missionary
determined to try it. He had some new clothes made for him, bound with
scarlet; he set him a stool to have his meals, and he had his own plate
and fork, and a snug corner to sleep in at night, and a warm blanket to
wrap himself in.
Now, do you suppose that "Wa" stayed with the missionary, or that he
ran away? He stayed, and he grew fonder and fonder of the missionary
and the missionary of him. Whenever he ate his meals, before tasting
anything, he would bend his head and shut his eyes, and be still, as
if he was saying grace. So also, night and morning, he would always
drop on his knees, and for a time remain in the attitude of prayer.
Occasionally he would go into the school-room, and sitting beside the
girls, take a book, and make believe that he was studying his lessons.
The missionary would frequently have him in his room, and kneel down
with him, and pray God to teach him by His Holy Spirit, and deliver
him from all evil. God did indeed watch over him, and preserve him
from danger, to which he was exposed. No lion was permitted to terrify
him; and no scorpion or serpent was allowed to bite his bare feet. The
angels had charge of him.
When, on account of his bad health, the missionary had to leave Africa
for a season, he much desired to bring "little Wa" to England with him.
He had a talk with his father (his mother was now dead) about it. He
told him what Christian people had done in England for the deaf and
dumb, what attention was paid to them, and how they were taught to
write and read. He looked very serious, and shook his head. "I can't
let him go;" he said, "I let his brother, 'Wia,' go to New York, and
he is buried there. I can't let 'Wa' go." But when he assured him
that England had a milder climate than New York, and that he would be
a parent to him, and that it was only the child's welfare he sought,
"Well," he said, "I will consider it." Shortly after he called and
said, "Take him; do with him what you choose. He is yours." So the
missionary began at once to get him ready for sea. He was fitted
with red and yellow flannel smocks and trousers; and when he saw the
preparations, and knew that he was going, he jumped for joy.
At length the steamer hove in sight. The captain agreed to charge a
shilling a day for the "coal scuttle," as he called him. So he was
brought off with them in a boat through the surf, and he bade adieu
to the scenes of his infancy, in better spirits than the missionary
did; but soon the rocking of the ship upset him. He lay down sick
on the deck. When he recovered, he became a great favorite with the
passengers and crew. He had a wonderful power of mimicry, and he amused
many with his imitations. Now he would act as he saw the monkeys or the
chimpanzee act; now he would mock the way in which the gentlemen walked
when the vessel rolled; now he would pretend to be preaching; now he
would dance as his country people do; and now, when a lady would be
moving about alone, he would run up to her and offer her his arm. The
officers would feed him with good things, and let him sleep in their
state-rooms, though he had a comfortable box of his own.
When the missionary arrived at Liverpool, "little Wa" was an object of
curiosity to all. His dark skin and his flaming-colored dress made him
ridiculously conspicuous. The children in the streets followed him, and
gathered round the shop-doors pointing at him jeeringly; but whenever
they were rude the missionary said to them, "He is deaf and dumb," and
then they would say, "Poor boy! poor little fellow!" You may be sure
he was in ecstasies at the sights, such as he had never even dreamt
of. Especially he noticed the horses, and tried to trot as they trot;
and the sliders on the ice, and when one tumbled down he was convulsed
with laughter. I have had him at my table, and he behaved himself like
a gentleman, only he would open the whole plate of sandwiches to see
which had least mustard on it; and when I presented him with a pear, he
wanted to put it into his mouth whole.
It was decided that he should go into the Bath Deaf and Dumb
Institution. The money, a large sum, was speedily raised by the ladies
of Brighton. Far and wide contributions flowed in. "Little Wa" was
loaded with presents beside; indeed, ladies began to be so kind to him
that it was high time he was out of the way of being spoiled. News
of his father's death reached England by the next mail; so now the
missionary felt that "little Wa" was wholly his, and he took him to
Bath without any further doubt as to its being God's will for him.
Before "little Wa" left London, he stole into the missionary's wife's
sick chamber, and seeing that several persons were with her, he sat
down quietly until they withdrew, then he quickly touched her; and then
raising his eyes, he clasped his hands, and by other signs gave her to
understand that he wished her to pray with him. She did so. On getting
up, he looked into her face so bright and satisfied, and shook her hand
to thank her. As he bade her good-bye, he signified that after two
days and two nights he would come back to her. When the missionary was
leaving him at the Institution, and broke the intelligence to him that
he must stay there a long while, "little Wa" was downcast for a moment,
but he did not cry; he nodded his head bravely, and stood watching him
at the door till he turned the corner.
A recent letter informed us that at first he showed considerable
self-will, but was daily improving. If we recollect how short a time
he has been under control at all, we cannot but wonder that the wild
African is as tractable as he is. When he saw the handwriting of the
missionary the tears started, and he pressed the envelope to his lips.
Now, my dear young readers, does not this narrative _prove_ that God
thinks of children, and loves them, and cares for them? He is busy with
the affairs of the universe, and yet He can turn from them to provide
for a heathen mute. He dwells in the high and holy place, and yet He
can stoop to be a friend to the fatherless African boy. Who is a God
like unto Him? Oh, give your heart to Him, that _you_, too, may have
His wing spread over you, and be able to confide in Him for whatever
you want.
May "little Wa's" Almighty protector and all-loving provider be
yours!--_The Family Treasury._