The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1885, Page 7

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

The Sailor Boy’s Bible.

I have been a sailor for many years, writes
one who is now a pastor, and have served in
both the naval and merchant services; in the
latter service I filled the position of chief officer
on board a large vessel off Old Calabar, on the
const of Africa, at a time when ‘‘Yellow Jack’”’
(fever) was committing fearful ravages among
our poor fellows. It was my melancholy duty
to go down each morning to the lower deck to

ing ina loud and excited tone, ‘Stop, my boy,
stop! read that again; and again the boy read
the words, ‘‘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 again he was interrupted a second, a|
third, and a fourth time by the dying request,
“Stop, my boy, stop! read that again,” until
the struggling soul learned by heart these pre-
cious words, and the departing spirit was em-

words: ‘‘God so loved the world, that He gave
His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
in Him should not perish, but have everlasting
life.’’

This narrative affords an instance of what
one single copy of the Bible may achieve, when
the blessing of God attends its reading. The
great day alone will tell how much good the
reading of that text, so singularly chosen by
the Spirit’s teaching and direction, will have
accomplished upon those others who where

see if any had died during the previous night. | ployed in faintly repeating the sacred text,| impressed, and have been lost sight of by the
On one oceasion I was fulfilling this sad but| upon which it was enabled with true faith to rest. | author.

necessary duty, and after passing
from hammock to hammock on that

— —@ -o<>e-2____

portion of the deck given to the
sick, I was grasped by a cold and
clammy hand, and turning, I be-
held a dying shipmate, for whom
no earthly hope could be enter-
tained, as he showed all the symp-
toms of having reached that crisis
in his fearful disease known as
“black vomit.” }

With great effort he was able to
address me; and in a tone of voice
so unearthly and pitiful as even
to arrest the attention of many
sufferers around him, he said;
“‘QOh, sir! for God’s sake let some
one read the Bible to me, for ’m
dying; if you pass the word, sir,
surely some one will have a Bible.”

I immediately did so, but not a
single seaman in the ship had a
Bible. However, a little boy, who
was an apprentice on board, came
up to me and said: ‘Sir, I have
a Bible in my chest in the half-
deck, and I will bring it and read
for poor Richards, if you will al-
low me.

“God bless you, my boy,” said
the dying man in reply, as I gave
him the order to bring the Bible.

During the time the little boy
was bringing the Word of God,
many of the sailors and Kroo-men
collected around the hammock of
the dying. They did not-come to see the poor
fellow die, for the sight of death there was a
daily occurrence: it was, as one of the Kroo
boys expressed it, to see what ‘‘dem good book
to do for poor Massa Richie, dat time he no
ketchy toder place.’’

The apprentice returned in a few moments,
holding in his hand a new Bible; he came close
to the dying man, and having opened the Bible
at the third chapter of the Gospel of St. John,
he read these words: ‘‘God so loved the world,
‘that He gave His only-begotten Son, that who-
ssoever believeth in Him should not perish, but
have everlasting life.’”” 3

All our attention was fixed on the dying man
‘while those words were solemnly and quietly
‘read. The little boy was continuing to read

when he was interrupted by Richards exclaim-

Natives of Western Africa.

After a short pause, I looked around, and
beheld the tears rolling down many a weather-
beaten face, and observed even the dark coun-
tenances of the Kroo-men to turn pale.

It is difficult, and I may say impossible, to
describe the solemn, impressive awe which per-
vaded the whole circle from the time the Bible
was brought in. It made a lasting impression
upon myself, which was considerably increased
when I afterwards learned that the Bible was
the gift of a widowed mother to her only child
on his parting with her in Liverpool.

Often, months after, when keeping my watch
and walking the deck, that entire scene came
before me; and my heart is now but too anx-
ious to testify how God hath mercifully dealt
with my soul in conversion through this inci-
dent, and by the power of His grace on these

Hidden and Safe.

One morning a teacher went, as
usual, to the school-room, and found
many vacant seats. Two little
scholars lay at their homes cold in
death, and others were very sick.
A fatal disease had entered the
village, and the few children pres-
ent that morning at school gath-
ered around the teacher, and said,
“Oh, what shall we do? Do you
think we shall be sick, and die
too?’’

She gently touched the bell as
a signal for silence, and observed,
“Children, you are all afraid of
this terrible disease. You mourn
for the death~of our dear little
friends; and you fear that you
may be taken also. I only know
of one way of escape, and that is to
hide.”’

The children were bewildered,
and the teacher went on; “I will
read to you about this hiding-
place ;’’ and read Psalm 91:
‘‘Whoso dwelleth under the de-
fense of the Most High shall abide
under the shadow of the Almighty.”

All were hushed and composed
by the sweet words of the Psalmist,
and the morning lessons went on

as usual.

At noon a dear little girl sidled
up to the desk and said, ‘‘Teacher, are you not
afraid of the diphteria?”’

“No, my child,’’ she answered.

“Well, -wouldn’t you be if you thought you
would be sick and die?”

“No, my dear, I trust not.”

Looking at the teacher for a moment with
wondering eyes, her face lighted, as she said,
“Qh, I know! you are hidden under God’s
wings. What a nice place to hide!”’

Yes, this is the only true hiding-place for
old, for young, for rich, for poor—all.

Do any of you know of a safer or a better?
—Dr. Norton.

s+ +o or oe

' He who belongs only half to God belongs
wholly to the devil.