FISHES--INSECTS.
A story about Jack. When he was a little fellow, soon after he came to
me, and before he knew many words, he made me understand that he wanted
a very long, slender stick. I asked a gardener of a friend, and he cut
him a fine one from a particular sort of tree. Then Jack laid out a
penny, all that he had, on a coarse bit of line, such as fishermen use;
and, lastly, he came to me for some large pins: one of which he bent
like a hook; explaining to me that he was going to dig for worms to put
upon it, that he might fish. I shook my head, saying, "No." Jack nodded
his head, and said "Yes." I said "bad;" Jack said "good;" and then I
took up his little red hand, and pretended I was going to run the hook
through the flesh. He snatched it away in a fright, saying "Bad, bad!"
but I nodded, and said "Good, good!" He said, "Bad Mam, hurt Jack!" and
I answered, "Bad Jack, hurt worm: God made Jack--God made worm." He
shook his head, and said, "No;" and what do you think was the reason he
gave? He reminded me that God is high up above, and that the worms come
from below, under the ground. The little fellow did not know that the
world is round; he thought it was flat: still less did he then
understand that God is everywhere, and made all things, above and
beneath. Then I told him that the Lord did so; and that worms and other
things were put into the earth by him, even as we were made to walk upon
its surface. Jack considered a little; and then said the worms were
rolled up in the world as apples were in a dumpling, and that they eat
their way through the crust. It was an odd idea, and made me smile; on
which he said, "Good," and told me he would fish with a piece of meat or
bread for a bait.
[Illustration: THE TADPOLE OR YOUNG FROG.]
Next morning, Jack came to me, and after reminding me of this, he asked
me if God also made the little newts, tadpoles, and frogs, and other
things that he had seen in the muddy ditches? I replied, "Yes, all."
"Did God make fishes?" "Oh yes," I answered, "he made fishes and every
thing." Then, in a very lively manner, he made me understand, that if
God did not like to have him hurt the worms, neither would he like to
have him hurt the fish. "Poor fish!" he said, showing me how its mouth
would be torn by the hook; and then, to my surprise, he got a small
hatchet, and chopped up his fine fishing-rod into walking-sticks; and
from that day he could never bear to see anybody angling. He used to
tell him, if they wanted to fish to eat or sell, to catch them with a
net, and to kill them at once; and I believe that the sight of the deaf
and dumb boy, taking such pains to plead for the creatures which are not
only dumb, but have no way of pleading for themselves, was the means of
checking many persons in cruel practices. He knew very little compared
with what you, perhaps, know; but he knew one blessed truth--he knew
that "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting
life;" and by always thinking on this great mercy of God to man, and the
exceeding love of our Lord Jesus Christ, in dying for poor sinners like
us, Jack came to hate whatever he knew to be displeasing to that
gracious Lord and heavenly Father; and the happiness that he felt in his
own soul made him delight in seeking the happiness of every creature
around him.
Jack died of a slow decline. He had much pain, but I never saw him look
impatient or unhappy. He felt what David so beautifully describes in the
twenty-third Psalm: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me." He knew quite well
that he was going to die; but it never made him uneasy. He knew that God
was at peace with him, through the merits of the Redeemer; and he was at
peace with all the world. His dying pillow was not made a pillow of
thorns by the remembrance of having made any living thing suffer
torment; nor were his short sleeps disturbed by terrible dreams of what
he had forgotten until the time drew near to appear before God. I could
tell fearful stories of some who died as young as Jack, and whose
death-beds can never be forgotten by those who saw them. They had been
cruel to God's dumb creatures, and never gave a thought to what they had
done; but when death was near, when the poor weak body could not rise
from the bed, nor the soul be any longer deceived with the thought of
years to come, it was horrible to hear the cries they uttered, and the
wild things that they said about beasts, and birds, and insects tortured
by them in the days of their health and strength. There was one in
particular, a butcher's boy, who could not be comforted: he said, the
calves, the sheep, and the lambs, had provoked him by their
unwillingness to be caught and driven into the slaughter-yard, and he
had revenged himself by making their deaths as painful as he could; and
that he saw them then--whether his eyes were open or shut, he always saw
them--all bleeding, and torn, and struggling, as they used to do: and
whatever was said to him, or whatever noise was made, he heard their
cries of agony louder than all. When he was told that God was merciful,
he answered, "Yes; but I had no mercy, and there is no mercy for me." I
wish I could tell you that he died praying for pardon; but, alas! he
died shrieking out that he must go to hell. At that time, I was asked to
write a book about it, to warn others; but I was so much shocked that I
could not write about it. I mention it now, to show you that sometimes,
even in this world, the dreadful work of judgment is begun--judgment
without mercy, to those who show no mercy.
But you must not suppose that Jack's happiness and peace, and confidence
in God, came from any thing that he had done, or any thing that he had
refrained from doing. No, it was all from believing with his whole heart
that God loved him for the sake of his dear son, the Lord Jesus Christ.
Now, if Jack has said, or fancied, that he loved God, and had at the
same time been cruel, or lived in any other sin, it would have proved
that he was mistaken, and he would have had no real peace. If you pass
by a garden and see clusters of fine ripe grapes hanging from the boughs
of a tree, and anybody should say to you, "That's a fine vine," you
would agree with him at once; but if he pointed to a tree where
horse-chestnuts were growing, and called it a vine, you would laugh at
him; you know the difference between a sweet juicy grape, and a hard,
bitter, uneatable horse-chestnut. Yet you would not say that the grapes
made the vine, would you? No, they did not make it a vine, but they
proved it to be one. If a boy were to tie bunches of grapes to a
horse-chestnut tree, and tell you it was a vine, you would say no, it is
not a real vine--the fruit did not grow upon it.
In this way, I may say that I knew Jack to be a true child of God:
because the fruit of good works grew upon him. It was not in look only,
but really and indeed, that he was the character I have described; and
if you read carefully, very carefully, the fifteenth chapter of St.
John's Gospel, you will see what I mean. In that beautiful chapter, our
Lord Jesus Christ compares himself to a vine, his people to the
branches, and the good works that they do to the grapes; and he shows us
that if we do not really belong to him, and keep close to him, (which we
can only do by believing and praying,) then we are like the branches cut
off from the vine, which cannot possibly bring forth any grapes. You may
think little of this now; but you must think of it, whether you will or
no, when you come to die. Perhaps you say to yourself, "Ay, but when I
come to die, I will pray, and make my peace with God." Do not deceive
yourself with such a vain hope: there is a very terrible warning given
in the first chapter of Proverbs, which you must not forget. The Lord is
addressing such as mean to put off repenting and praying, and serving
him, to another time, when sickness or some other calamity shall
frighten them into calling on him for pardon and help. These are the
words: "Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my
hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and
would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamity; I will
mock when your fear cometh, when your fear cometh as desolation, and
your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh
upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they
shall seek me early, but they shall not find me: for that they hate
knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord: they would none of
my counsel: they despised all my reproof." Does not this alarm you? Then
do not be found a day longer among those who refuse to hear the gracious
voice of the Lord Jesus, who invites you to come to him for eternal
life; and who will, if you ask it in his name, send the Holy Spirit to
guide you in the good way, and make you real branches of the good Vine,
as he made the dumb boy. When Jack was eleven years old, he became a
true servant of the Lord; and he died at nineteen, and went to live in
heaven with the blessed Master whom he had delighted to serve upon
earth.
His religion made him so happy, there was not a merrier boy to be found.
Some people will tell you that being religious makes a boy feel dull and
melancholy. Ask them if they think you so silly as to believe that
walking in the summer sunshine will make you feel dark and cold? True
religion is to man what the bright sunshine is to the little insects
that sport upon the wing, and who find in it not only their light but
their life.
[Illustration: THE WOOLLY BEAR CATERPILLAR.]
Does any boy's conscience smite him at my naming the insects? I hope
not. I hope you have not been tempted by Satan to do any harm to the
little harmless, and often useful, creatures that cross your path. A
butterfly, a cockchaffer, a house-fly, a snail, a caterpillar, a
worm--these, and all others, are God's handy-work; and if you could see
them through a glass that magnifies very much indeed, you would be more
astonished than I can tell you. The small powder, scarcely seen on your
finger's end, from the wing of a butterfly, is a lump of the most
beautiful feathers, so delicate that the gentlest touch will rub some of
them off: the wing itself is made of lovely net-work, like silver
threads, stretched on strong wires; and all the skill of all the most
skilful men in the world could make nothing to equal the coarsest part
of the plainest insect. But it is not their beauty--though we ought to
see and to glorify the Creator's hand in that--it is their delicate
sense of feeling that should keep us from hurting them. The common worm
is very useful in dividing the clods of earth, which would otherwise
become so hard as to prevent the fine fibres of the roots of plants from
forcing their way, and then the plants would die. Man has not discovered
all the uses of the different insects; but God has made nothing in vain:
and though, for our own safety and comfort, we must destroy some sorts,
still we are bound to do it in the quickest and most complete manner, or
else we must give an account to their Creator and ours for the cruelty
we commit. I have killed insects myself, for no reason but because I saw
that they must fall into the hands of boys, or others, whom I knew to be
so dreadfully wicked as to take pleasure in torturing them; but I did it
sorrowfully; feeling that I could not give life to the meanest reptile,
and that I must be able to render to God a reason for taking it away. I
have found poor harmless insects alive, most cruelly maimed, with their
wings or legs torn off, or their bodies pierced through; and I shuddered
to think how the eye of God was fixed on those who did it, never losing
sight of them; and I have prayed that he would change their wicked
hearts before it was too late.
And now I have finished my book. While I was writing it, more than a few
funerals passed my window, the coffins being those of very young people;
and this made me more anxious to go on; for I thought to myself,
"Perhaps some boy or girl will read it who has never thought rightly
about these things, and will presently determine not to go on in sin,
but to become merciful and obedient, and all that they ought to be." If
they try to do this of themselves, they will soon find that the sinful
nature of Adam is too strong in them; and the more they try to mend
themselves, they will find Satan is the more busy, leading them into
more wickedness. Then, perhaps, they will mind what I have said about
the need not only of pardon, but of help from the Lord Jesus Christ.
They will pray to God, for his sake, to give them a new heart, holy,
humble, obedient, and merciful. This prayer will be heard; for our
gracious God hears and answers the prayer of the poorest child as
readily as that of the mightiest king. Then they will know what it
really is to love God, and to keep his commandments, because they love
him; and what a sweet example they will set to others, and how happy
they will be themselves, and what a blessing to all belonging to them!
Perhaps, too, they will make a little party among the kindest-hearted of
their playmates, all giving a promise to each other not willingly to
hurt any of God's creatures; but to do the best they can to persuade
every one to be merciful to the dumb animals, birds, fishes, and
insects. If they live, they will grow up to be such men and women as we
want, to bring a blessing on this land; and in their own children they
will reap the reward of having shown tenderness to the helpless. If they
die young, they will be like my happy boy Jack, not afraid of death; but
willing and rejoiced to go to the Saviour, whom they sought and found so
early. Oh, may the Lord grant this blessing to my little book, that at
the great day of judgment I may meet with some happy spirits to tell me
that it was not written in vain! "BLESSED ARE THE MERCIFUL, FOR THEY
SHALL OBTAIN MERCY." Matt. v. 7.
[Illustration: FINIS]
End of Project Gutenberg's Kindness to Animals, by Charlotte Elizabeth