THE Rev. T. Biddulph, of Bristol, used to relate the following interesting facts about a boy, who attended the Sabbath-School connected with the St. James Church, Bristol. It seems that this boy behaved so badly that, neither kindness nor severity appeared to have had any effect on him. At length the teachers were very reluctantly obliged to expel him. For several years they heard nothing of him. One of the teachers was now a clergyman in a distant country village. A sailor one day knocked at his door, and, on being admitted into his study, said, “I suppose you have forgotten me, Sir?” “Yes,” said the
Rev. Henry Poole, “I have, if ever I knew you.” “Do you remember a wicked boy named James Saunders?” “Oh yes!” said he, “I have cause to remember him; he gave me much trouble and anxiety. What do you know of him?” “I am the lad!” “You are grown so, and so much altered I could not believe it. Well James, what account can you give of yourself?” “A very sorry one, sir: when I was expelled from the school, I left the city, and wandered I scarcely knew or cared where. At length I found myself at the seaside. Weary of living by lying and stealing I got on board a ship and after sailing in various parts of the world I was shipwrecked in a hurricane in the Bay of Honduras. After swimming till my strength failed me, I gave myself up for lost. In the middle of a dark night I came to my senses and found myself on a rock half covered with water. I looked around and called out for my shipmates, and found that two of them were situated like myself, every moment expecting a watery grave. For the first time since I left the Sabbath School, you, sir, came to my mind, I thought of your kindness, of my base ingratitude, and of some of the sacred truths you took so much pains to fix in my memory; particularly that passage in Numbers xxiii. 9: ‘From the top of the rocks I see him.’ In my extremity, I looked to the Saviour of whom I had heard so much, but whom I had so long despised. I knelt down, up to my waist in water, and cried mightily that God might be the rock of my heart and my portion for ever. I found your words true, that ‘praying breath was never spent in vain.’ On the day breaking we discovered some pieces of wreck on which we ultimately succeeded in reaching the shore. Then many precious truths you had taught me from the Bible came fresh into my memory; though I had almost forgotten during my career of iniquity even that there was such a book. I thought, sir, you would be glad to find that all your care and anxiety on my behalf was not lost; I, therefore, walked from my ship, to thank you in the best manner I can, for your former kindness to me.” Knowing the cunning adroitness of the lad, Mr. Poole was half inclined to
discredit him. He enquired the name of his Captain, to whom he wrote, and ascertained, that, since this young man had sailed with him his conduct had been such that whenever he knew that James Saunders was on deck his mind was at ease knowing that the duties of the ship would be faithfully attended to. Some time afterwards, Mr. Poole was informed by the Captain, that James Saunders, when in a distant part of the world, had been seized with a fever. During its progress he sent for the sailors, read to them while he was able out of the Bible, exhorted them to cleave to the Rock of Ages that never moves—the Lord Jesus Christ, who died the just for the unjust—to take example by him, who, though one of the vilest of sinners, had found mercy. Commanding them all to Christ, he fell asleep in Him—a monument of saving grace and redeeming love.—Scottish Christian Herald (1837).
“There shall be no night there” (Rev., 22).
No night of sorrow shall be there! All griefs, all sighs are o’er;
No bleeding heart, no tear-dimmed eye, on that celestial shore.
God, with His gentle hand of love, shall wipe all tears away,
And in His presence we shall joy, secure in cloudless day!
No night of sin can enter there! like Jesus we shall be,
For we shall see Him as He is, and holy be as He;
No wandering thoughts, no anxious cares, shall agitate our breast,
No sin shall mar our services, in yonder land of rest!
No night of ignorance is there! we’ll know as we are known,
And, through a blest eternity, rejoice before the throne;
No clouds shall e’er o’ershadow us, faith shall be changed to sight,
All gloomy doubts and fears dispelled, in that fair land of light!
No night of suffering is there! no weariness, no pain;
The ransomed in that better land, shall ne’er be sick again;
No aching head, no fevered brow, shall weigh our spirits down,
For, in Emmanuel’s happy land, all sickness is unknown!
No night of parting shall be there! our loved ones gone before,
Shall hail us at the gates of bliss: we’ll meet to part no more;
To be for ever with the Lord, our griefs, our trials o’er,
No tearful eye, no sad farewell, on yonder radiant shore!
No night of death can enter there! to close our peaceful rest,
No tender ties are sever’d in the mansions of the blest;
Once in our happy, longed-for home, we’ll rest in Jesus’ love;
For oh! no night can ever be in our God’s house above!
Eliza Sawers.