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A Page for the Young.

LITTLE FISHER WILLY.

(From the German.J

(Concluded from page 138.)

The war-ship steered to the French coast, and on its arrival at Boulogne Willy was sent on shore as a prisoner,-the only booty the ship had brought. Being a mere boy, he was not placed in prison, but enjoyed kind treatment; and the inhabitants of the town, although not particularly fond of England, had pity on him, comforted and cheered him, and called him into their houses to get something to eat; but although they had put him in the palace of a king, he would still have felt anxious and unhappy. "My mother! my mother!" was the secret sigh of his heart day and night. He had doubtless received only the well-merited reward of his sin; that he did not question; but his mother must likewise bear the consequences of it. Who would nurse her now! who would support and cheer her! who would supply her wants! At last Willy came to the conclusion, "My mother has done nothing wrong; God will certainly take care of her."

And then he kneeled down on the sea-shore, beneath a projecting rock, and prayed to the widow's God, confessed his sin, and asked forgiveness, for Christ's sake. His mind was now more at ease; but still the thought often sunk sadly into his soul, "My mother will die,-she will die, without ever having heard what has become of me,-without having forgiven me, and I am the cause of her death." Thoughts like these tormented him day and night, and at last he determined, at every hazard, to attempt to make his escape to England. "If they get me again into their power," he said, "they will certainly shut me up in a prison, with bread and water for my food, and never let me out again; but if I do not get back to my poor mother, she will die of grief and want." It was easier, however, to make such a resolution than to put it in execution. Where could the helpless boy find a vessel, and how, without being discovered, could he cross to the English coast ? Just before the great rock where Willy was acqustomed to sit and indulge in his melancholy reflections, a number of pieces of timber and broken planks lay strewed upon the

strand, the remains of vessels that had been wrecked; and Willy came to the determination of constructing a raft, cheering himself with the hope of reaching some of the ships of the English fleet, which were lying in the channel to prevent Napoleon invading England. No sooner had he formed his plan than he set to work, in a sheltered spot concealed by a projecting rock. Fancy what an arduous work this was for a boy of twelve years old, who had neither the strength of a man, nor any of the most necessary tools. But, you know, love shrinks from no labour, and love is as inventive as necessity. The two combined enabled him to build his raft, and Robinson Crusoe himself would have had no need to be ashamed of it. Moreover, Willy had become more prudent by his former experiment. He now waited for a good breeze and a favourable tide. When the right moment arrived he shoved off his frail little raft into the water, which was no easy matter, then waded a little further into the sea and mounted the poor vessel. A happy voyage to him!

A new adventure awaited him. At this time, as we said before, a vast army was assembled at Boulogne, which was destined to invade England, and the Emperor Napoleon frequently visited the camp to review the army. He generally ascended a neighbouring height to view with his telescope the English coast, or to watch with a longing eye for the appearance of the French fleet, which was expected to arrive from the West Indies, but which was attacked and beaten by the English. On the day that Willy set out on his adventurous voyage, Napoleon was standing thus, and saw through his telescope a little raft and something on it floating past; a. signal was made to the coast-guard, a boat was sent off, and the young sailor, together with his vessel, was promptly seized and brought back to land. His joy was shortlived indeed. How great must have appeared this misfortune to the poor boy, to see his hopes once more blighted just when they appeared in brightest bloom! WheOther he could bow to this stroke, and comfort himself with the belief that even in this the hand of God was at work, and that to those that love God all things work

together for good, even those that seem the most against us, I do not know, but I should rather doubt it. Even old christians, who have got many such lessons in their past history, find it difficult, when a hope to which they clung is snatched away, to support themselves with the conviction that God does all things better than they could do, even had they the means under their control, while afterwards they feel ashamed at their faintheartedness and unbelief, and resolve thenceforth to act a more consistent part. Let us see how it turned out in the case of poor disappointed Willy!

The Emperor enquired into the matter, and having learned it was an English prisoner who had been attempting his escape, he ordered him to be brought before him; thinking, probably, that it would be some English officer, who had received permission to walk about at liberty on giving his word of honour that he would not attempt to escape, but had been unfaithful to his solemn promise. But when he saw so young a boy, he was quite astonished, and was curious to know if it was love for his native land that had induced him to run such a risk. "My child," he said kindly to Willy, "why do you wish to leave us? is it because we are the enemies of England?" The Emperor spoke through an interpreter, and Willy, who did not know that it was the Emperor, answered in the same way, without the least fear or hesitation. "No, Sir," he replied, "you are not my enemy, although you are the enemy of my king and country. I have been always taught to hate the French, but you have been very kind to me." "Whom do you want to go to, then ?" "To my mother; she is poor and ill, and has no one to nurse her, or to work for her." you might have been drowned," said the Emperor, with a benevolent look. "That is true, Sir; but I was not afraid of that. When I sailed away from England in a boat which is now lost, I hoped God would take care of me; and I would rather run the risk, than be guilty of my mother's death." The Emperor smiled at these words; the childlike idea touched him. Besides he admired courage wherever he saw it; and the moral courage too which Willy displayed in confessing his fault, did not pass unnoticed. He questioned the English boy still further, bade him tell him his whole history, how his father died, what he had promised his mother, how ill

"But

and poor she was, and how he had been led to do wrong in the erroneous hope of assisting her; then his adventures with the French ship, his captivity, his grief for his sick mother, and how he had tried to escape on the raft. Napoleon drew three gold coins from his pocket, with his image stamped upon them, and said, "My child, you have done wrong; but you will not do it again. You shall go to your mother, and be to her a good son henceforth. But you shall not go on this raft, I will send you on board one of your own ships. Here are some gold coins, called 'Napoleons:' one is for your mother, tell her the Emperor sent it to her; with the second you can pay the value of the old boat; and you can do what you like with the third, or you may keep it in memory of this adventure." Napoleon then directed his officers to see the young captive put on board an English ship.

Willy was quite surprised when told he had been speaking to the Emperor,-to that dreaded Bonaparte, the terror of the whole world, of whom he had heard so much in England. He might have learnt a lesson from this, that however wicked a man may be, he may yet have some good qualities, and that it is wrong to hate any nation, as English boys were once taught to nurse a hatred to the French. A boat was ɛpeedily manned and sent with a white flag, the signal of peace, to an English vessel, which they were not long in falling in with. The officers of the ship were not a little surprised when they brought, in the Emperor's name, a poor boy on board, and notified the desire of the Emperor, that the boy should be conveyed to his home. When the French boat departed, the officers put many questions to Willy, for they could not conceive why a monarch so powerful and dreaded should interest himself in a poor fisher boy. Willy related his whole history, and exhibited his three gold pieces. "That was a lucky adventure for you my lad," said one of the officers; "your fault has brought you good fortune; you might have fished long enough before you would have earned three such gold coins." hope, dear Sir," said Willy, "my experience will be for my good, and make me watchful in future against such temptations; but this money can never repay me for all I have suffered on poor mother's account. Perhaps I am yet to meet with a heavier punishment: I may find her dead; but I cannot bear to think of it; I will rather

"I

hope that God will have preserved her life, and cared for her wants, and is preparing for her the joy of seeing her son once more." The young officer clapped him on the shoulder, praised him in his rough sailor fashion, drew five shillings from his pocket and gave them to him, saying, "Now be ready, Donald will take you on shore; this silver will be of use to you; but do not change your three gold coins till you get home to your mother." Willy rejoiced at this, it was just what he wished to do; so he took the money with ardent expressions of gratitude. He was safely landed at Dover, without it costing him a penny. Thence he had only to take a place in the stage coach which passed by his mother's hut, but he chose rather to go on foot, so as to save all the money for his mother. Ah, what thoughts passed through his mind as he traveled along; at one time running and jumping, when the hope of embracing her once more became uppermost; and at another lingering and creeping along, when the fear of finding her in the grave made his blood run cold as lead! Which will be right? Hope? or fear?

At last he caught a glimpse of the widow's hut, and the blood rushed into his heart so as almost to stop his breathing, for the nearer he approached the more his fears gained the mastery. "But," said he to himself at last, "'tis no use; my lot is cast, and the sooner I know it the better, whatever it may be." Accordingly he hurried on, sighing incessantly, “O God, have mercy upon me!" He knew that God certainly understood what he meant. His observant eye perceived that the door of the hut and the window shutters were not closed; this he thought a good sign of its being inhabited, and by whom else than by his mother? The last step is taken; but he stops to think before he enters, and, creeping round the corner, he looks through the low window; there she is, kneeling at the wall, offering her evening prayer, for it is sunset. And now, if Willy were to follow the impulse of his heart, three bounds would carry him into the little apartment; but the boy is very considerate; he thinks of the illness of his poor mother; he must not kill her by surprise, after having brought her almost to the gates of death by his disobedience; he first begins to sing in a gentle voice a little fishing song, which he often used to sing, so as to prepare her gradually for his appearance; then he en

tered slowly and embraced her knees, but not one word could he speak, his poor heart beat so; till at last he burst into a flood of tears. Yes, she still lives, the much tried mother, although grief for her long lost son has wellnigh broken her heart! Yes, she still lives, and who can paint her joy at seeing him once more before her, safe and well? She had recovered from her illness, as far as possible under the shattering circumstance that had occurred; and her good neighbours, though poor themselves, had deeply sympathised with her in her double misfortune, and benevolently cared for her wants. Had any one told her, a few days or weeks before, "Your son is a captive in France," she would have exclaimed, full of anxiety and joy, "My son still lives; I will go and see him ere I die!" And now he was alive before her, chastened, but not given over to death; for if he had been disobedient, it had arisen from his affection. How much was there to tell on both sides, till far into the night. All fear and anxiety changed into joy and gratitude. So it will be in the great "Father's house," when the saved, who have come out of great tribulation, relate to one another their past history, and render praise and honour to God and the Lamb.

Willy gave to his dear mother the gold coin sent by Napoleon; the second he was to keep till he knew the value of the boat which he had taken away; and as to the third, the widow said to Willy, "My dear son, you shall keep this coin; it will go hard with us indeed before we change it. Whenever you look at it, even when your mother lies in the grave, think that the God whom you ought to serve and fear all your life long, has, shewn himself the orphan's father, and the widow's stay. It was the Lord who delivered us from the hand of the enemy, and who saved my life from destruction. Henceforth, my son, in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and he will direct thy steps. And should you ever have children, shew them this coin, and tell them what you have undergone, and what your mother, for whose good you intended it, was compelled to suffer. Tell them it is always wrong and unwise, to do evil that good may come."

The widow and her son lived happy together. Willy became an able and skilful workman, who supported in plenty the declining years of his mother, and after her death brought up a family of his own; and

the golden "Napoleon" remains to the present day unexchanged. It is preserved as a kind of heir-loom. The old mother has several years ago passed to her rest; but her grandchildren view the golden piece with reverence as often as it is shewn to them, and the story connected with it,-of the boat that was borrowed and lost,-of the French war-ship,-of the captain in

Boulogne, of the raft formed of the wreck,-of the Emperor Napoleon, and his spy glass, and of the happy release of the captive, and his return to his sorrowing mother, is repeated every time, with the earnest injunction: -"Children, never bring yourselves into trouble through disobedience!"

A. M.

Obituary.

MR. A. C. MACPHERSON,

OF ARMLEY, NEAR LEEDS.

To lose children at any age, or under any circumstance, is painful; but when parents are called to mourn the loss of a son who was all they could wish a son to be, the stroke is heavy. The qualities he may possess, and which endear his memory, make the loss the greater, and the breach in the family, and the wound it inflicts on the heart, cannot easily be made up or healed, especially if that son be the eldest, grown up, just on the threshold of manhood, amiable, affectionate, and full of promise.

Alexander Cameron Macpherson, son of the Rev. James Macpherson, the subject of this brief obituary, was born at Hull in 1831. He was educated principally at Huddersfield college, and the Moravian establishment at Fulneck. At the age of fifteen he was articled to the Medical profession, with Mr. W. B. Hepworth, surgeon, of Armley, near Leeds, and had nearly completed his apprenticeship, and was about to enter on his last session at the Leeds School of Medicine, when he died, April 19th, 1851, in the twentieth year of his age.

His

He was altogether one of those youths who are sure to gain the esteem and good opinion of those who know them, and, consequently, he secured the approbation of his tutors, the confidence of his master, and the respect of his fellow-students. good sense, solidity of character, and ami. able disposition, always gained him friends. His judgment, general intelligence, and conversational powers were considerable. He had a mind, in fact, capable of grappling with any difficulty in his profession, and considerably in advance of his years. There was none of that offensive forwardness and self-opinionatedness, which spoil

so many young men. Instead of those airs of self-importance, disregard of parental authority, and forming loose habits, and gay and thoughtless companions, the ruin of so many young men, and the source of so much sorrow to parents, his conduct, in these respects, never cost a moment's uneasiness. He had too much good sense not to see the folly of such things, and a sufficient amount of natural dignity and high moral principle, to neutralize and raise him above their influence. He aspired to be the man,-not the vain, selfwilled, reckless, pleasure-taking youth. On being asked his reasons for abandoning light reading, and young and thoughtlesscompanions, his reply was, "I am determined that the mind shall rule the body, and not the body the mind."

He was enamoured with his profession, and his mind ardently sought to attain proficiency in it. It was his predilection and choice. Everything about it had an interest and a charm. The structure of the human body, the varied forms and phases of disease, the science of medicine, the remedial art, books, lectures, and conversation on these subjects, were to him a source of unfailing pleasure. He looked on the profession with high satisfaction, as not a sordid one,-next to the christian ministry it stood the first; he was proud of, and quite admired, its humane and benevolent character, calculated to mitigate human suffering, and relieve the maladies of our race. He abhorred the idea of making the profession the source of merely getting money, or weighing men's lives and health against so much gold.

But what gave to his character its charm and beauty, was piety. He had undergone a divine change of heart. The instructions of home and the family had their in

fluence; ence but he now found that religion was a matter of personal concern; he had made the grand discovery, that man was a sinner and needed a Saviour, and then all things appeared to him in a new light, and the purpose and end of his being received a new direction. The reality of this change became at once apparent, and, knowing the inexpressible joy it would afford to his parents, it was communicated to them in several letters, which his early death has stamped with peculiar value; they are now fondly treasured, and perused with melancholy delight.

He,

He felt the importance of openly confessing the Saviour, and on this subject wrote to his father:-"I wish to delay it no longer. I know, now, that my sins are forgiven through the merits of the Redeemer. Justification being effected, may God forward the work of sanctification." consequently, had several interviews with the Rev. A. M. Stalker, the respected minister of the Baptist chapel, SouthParade, Leeds, who expressed himself highly satisfied with his intelligence and piety, and he was to have been proposed for membership at the church - meeting held only two days after his death. Thus he was not permitted to unite with the church on earth, being called to join the church in heaven. He was seized with illness after attending the usual lecture in the medical school, which resulted in fever, and in one short week. terminated his earthly career. The general esteem in which he was held, was evinced by the students of the medical school walking in procession at his funeral.

This brief memoir is designed not only as a tribute of respect to his memory, but that his early piety and death may have their influence upon others young in life.

"Our early are our most important years." Religion in youth is peculiarly interesting, and especially valuable in the prospect of death. This the dear departed felt. As the disease which closed his career was gaining rapid progress upon him, he said, "Ah, I see a sick-bed is not the place to seek religion; thank God I found it in health." Had he died destitute of religion, to himself the loss would have been irretrievable, and to his parents the stroke insupportable. But the bitterness of his death is past, the otherwise unmitigated cup is greatly relieved,-the stroke is broken by the assured hope of his happiness,

and now the bereaved parents sorrow notif as those that are without hope?' >~ vsb 1098

Two lessons are here taught one the 1 bereaved parents have to learn, to hold ** everything on earth with a loose hand, to seek consolation under this severe trial at the source of all comfort, and be more than ever anxious that their remaining children be trained for heaven; and the other is, that young people may see the importance of religion, and the necessity of an early preparation for death and eternity. "While blooming youth is snatched away,

By death's resistless hand;
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.
While pity prompts the rising sigh,

Oh, may this truth imprest,
With awful power, 'I too must die!'
Sink deep in every breast."

MRS. MASON,

OF WELLS.

J. M.

Died, at Wells, Somerset, March 26th, 1851, after a short illness, Mrs. Mason, the beloved wife of Mr. Mason, late Baptist minister at Norton, St. Philip, near Bath.

Her life was one of gospel consistency,a lover of the means of grace, and a constant reader of the bible; generally twice in the course of the year would she read it regularly through. During her life she was often very much distressed with groundless fears, particularly respecting death-and death in any form is a melancholy event; but from her first illness, the Lord mercifully appeared for her, in removing all fear; so that of her it may be truly said, “At eventide it was light." So bright were her prospects of death, that not a cloud was permitted to pass over her vision. Her heaven began below.

Her friends considered it a privilege to visit her. They saw what the gospel could do in relieving the dark future. Mrs. P. said, "Mrs. Mason, have you peace?" "Peace passing all understanding," was her reply; "not a wave of trouble rolls across my peaceful breast." Often was she heard to say, "What should I do if I had religion to seek now?" As her end approached, she would often say, "Come, Lord! come, Lord Jesus! Cut short thy work in righteousness! Why tarry thy chariot wheels ?" In parting with her dear friends, her affectionate counsel, with her placid, heavenly face, will make impres sions not soon to be forgotten.

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