# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1887_S31
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

The Lutheran Pioneer.

31

Pray Always.

The following incident occurred on Lake
Erie nearly forty years ago.

The principle personage in the narrative was
a Christian sailor, John ——, employed as first
mate under Captain C——, who had command
of one of the two ships which some ambitious
person in Buffalo set afloat on Lake Erie dur-
ing the fierce heat of the speculation which
raged like a forest-fire over the West for a few
years prior to 1836.

Determined to lead the navigation of the
season, the ship left Buffalo immediately after
the harbor was cleared of ice, supposing, what
was quite a usual occurrence, that the wind
would carry the ice up the lake, break it up,
and so disperse it that they would have no
further trouble with it; but to their great sur-
prise, as they neared the upper end of the lake,
they found themselves moving between two
immense fields of ice—that on the right extend-
ing apparently to the Canada shore; that on
the left moving before the wind, slowly, but
surely, down upon them.

The ship was not prepared for an Arctic en-
counter like this, and how to escape from their
perilous position was of course an anxious
question. But two courses presented them-
selves, and whether either of these was prac-
ticable remained to be seen. The first was to
Jand on the ice, and so make their way to the
Canada shore. Our hero, John , volun-
teered the attempt to reach the shore. It was
of course fraught with fearful hazard; but he
succeeded in making the exploration and in re-
turning safely to the ship, but only to report
that the ice was entirely detached from the
shore, and that escape in this direction was
impossible.

The second method was to reach the open
water through the channel between the ice-
fields in the ship's boats; but this idea was
soon abandoned, for, at the rate the ice was
moving before the wind, it was very certain
the two fields would meet long before the boats
could reach open water, and if caught, they
would be crushed like egg-shells. What was
to he done? Officers, sailors, passengers looked
in silence and with pallid cheeks upon the ap-
proaching foe. In front, as far as could be
seen, there was nothing but that narrow chan-
nel, and no wind to carry them through to the
open water.

Under these circumstances, the captain called
the passengers, and as many of the crew as
could be spared from the deck, into the cabin,
made a plain statement of their danger, and
of his entire want of power to afford them re-
lief; and, though not a professing Christian,
said, ‘‘We are in the hands of God; if He

does not interpose for us, there is no help, no
hope. If any of you know how to pray, I
wish you would do so.’’ There sat that de-
spairing company, with bowed heads, in dead
silence—so still, you could hear your heart beat.
Tn that terrible moment, John ——, the pious

mate, raised his head, and just in a whisper, said,
“Let us pray.’’ Officers, passengers, sailors,
at once quietly went down upon their knees,
and naught was heard, except now and then a
deepdrawn sigh or a half-suppressed sob, while
the converted sailor, in simple, child-like lan-
guage, told in the ears of Him who holds the
winds in His fists and the sea in the hollow of
His hand, their exposure and danger, the in-
terest they each had in their own lives and the
lives and happiness of others—fathers, mothers,
wives, children and friends; humbly confessing
their sins and just exposure to pain and penalty;
and then, with tearful penitence and loving
trustfulness, supplicating mercy and deliverance
through the crucified and exalted Redeemer.

After the prayer, the captain and mate went
on deck, and who can tell what were their
thoughts or feelings when they saw that, dur-
ing that solemn moment of penitent prayer,
the wind had changed, and now, instead of
blowing the crushing ice-field upon them, it
was blowing the ship slowly, but surely, through
that open channel. In the presence of that
strange fact, the captain and mate uncovered
their heads, and John , looking aloft at
the nearly naked yards, said, ‘‘Shall I put
some more canvass on her, captain?’ ‘‘No,”’
said the captain, ‘‘don’t touch her, some One
else is managing the ship.’ And so the un-
seen hand did lead them to the open water,
and to their desired haven in safety.

We will not stop to do battle with the specu-
lative theories of prayer which infidel scientists
have latterly thrust into the face of Christen-
dom. The incident, of the truth of which the
reader can rest assured, shall be left to bear,
uninterpreted, its own testimony to the truth
that God hears and answers prayer. And
therefore it is written that ‘‘men ought always
to pray and not to faint.’’—Selected.

a 0 0

The Infidel’s Death.

There lived in France, some years ago, a
gentleman of intelligence and culture, but the
same was an infidel, believing neither in heaven
nor hell. His life was in full accord with his
unbelief, he was, namely, a servant of the
devil. In the days of his health he mocked at
all Christianity, and gave no heed to any of
its admonitions: but when he was laid upon a
sick bed he became timid as a woman, and no
one could have feared death more than he.
While in this condition a devout and godly
nobleman sought to direct his mind and heart
to the great mercy of God, and the saving
merits of Jesus Christ, but sought in vain; he
was told by the sufferer that all was useless,
as the heart was hardened against such com-
forts, and he would have his portion with Cain
and Judas, and all who despised the mercy of
God. One of his companions in sin also came
to him, to see whether death could make such
a bold and courageous sinner afraid. The sick
man looked upon him, and with anguish of

heart said: If one could know at the time of
his birth what one realizes a short time before
his death, one of two things would take place:
Either all would wish at once to die, or they
would live near God all through their lives, so
that they could die without fear.
unbeliever, but now I believe, yet my faith is
like that of the devils, they also believe—and
tremble.

I Was an

— - ~~ + om 0 -

: Love for the Bible.

A blind girl, who had received a copy of the

Bible in raised letters, read it so eagerly and
constantly with her fingers that they were soon
so worn that every line she read was marked
with blood; and ere long her fingers became go
sore that she could no longer use them. Think-
ing that for weeks she could not read her Bible
again, she raised it to her lips for a loving
good-bye kiss.
page touched her lips, a thrill of surprise
flushed her face, for she found she could read
the page with her lips; and so, while her
fingers recovered, she moved the pages across
her lips; with greater relish than for physical

As the raised letters of the

food. ‘God’s words were found, and she did

eat them, and they were unto her the joy and
rejoicing of her heart’’—‘‘sweeter also than

honey and the honey-comb.”’

But there are many Christians who have not
this ‘‘relish’’ for God’s \WWord—who read it as
a duty not as a delight; who come to it, not
because they hunger for it as a delicious food,
but because they think they must take it as a
necessary medicine. How can such Christians
secure this relish for Bible reading?

2 - 0am 9

“Vengeance is Mine.”

A regiment of soldiers had received the
strictest orders, because of the nearness of the
enemy, to remain perfectly quiet, and not to
break ranks under penalty of hanging. But
one of the soldiers could not possibly ward off
sleep, and so his horse walked off to graze.
His companions awoke him several times, re-
minding him of the orders, but he would im-
mediately relapse into sleep. Suddenly the
Colonel appeared, and called out, ‘‘Soldier,
what are you doing? You must hang!”’ He
began to lament, but in vain. ‘* You shall be
suspended from the first tree to which we
come,”’ said the Colonel, and gave him one
hour’s grace. Upon arriving at the tree where
the sentence was to be executed, the soldier
smote his hand, and said, ‘‘ Lord, how just art
Thou! On this very spot, one year ago, I
murdered a man and buried him under this
tree.’’ He pointed out the exact spot. They
dug down, and found the head and feet, where-
upon the merited punishment was inflicted.

——+ + oe +

Curist is not valued at all unless he is valued /»
above all.— Augustine. c