FAR off. Yes, the boy in our picture looks as if his thoughts had gone far away over the great sea that lies before him. He is longing, perhaps, for a sailor's life, thinking of the remote islands on the other side of the mighty ocean, and of the time when he shall be old enough to tread the deck of such a ship as he has often seen, dingy and weather-beaten, but full of fascination to those boyish eyes, for has she not come from a far land, sailing over from clime to clime?

It has been said, "There is no possession like the possession of the boy who craves to be a sailor." "Let him go," said an old minister to a poor widow who, in sorrow of heart, came to him, for her only son-the child of many prayers, the boy for whom she had lived a life of patient industry, who cared so little for the mother who loved him so muchwould do nothing but go to sea.

"Let him go. It may be that, when he is far away, he may remember the words you have spoken to him; and, if God will, he may come back to you wiser and better." And he did come back, to prove to her that God had answered her prayers, and found him when he was far off upon the sea.

Legh Richmond, so well known as the author of the "Annals of the Poor," had a sailor-son, of whom an interesting account is given in his father's memoir.

Nugent Richmond was brought up by God-fearing parents, and was the child of many prayers; but he grew up, as many others have done, to manifest an opposition to those things that his parents loved. Expostulations, tender entreaties, and fervent prayers seemed to have no effect upon him, and at last his father yielded to his evident desire to go to sea, and Nugent embarked in the Arniston, a merchant vessel, bound for Ceylon. His father saw him at Portsmouth, and, at his parting interview, gave him a Bible, which he begged him to read carefully. He saw

OFF.

the vessel slowly pass from his view, lingering on the shore till the white sails were no longer discernible.

The expected time of absence was two years. Mr. Richmond received letters from his son, written from different places, as the vessel called. These letters expressed regret for his past conduct, and a hope that he might some day prove a comfort to his parents.

Some months afterwards, Mr. Richmond saw, in the public papers that the Arniston, on its return from Ceylon to Europe, was supposed to have been lost in a dreadful gale of wind near the Cape of Good Hope, and it was feared that every person on board had perished. The intelligence was brought by a vessel from the Cape, which had heard the report on its homeward voyage.

No official intelligence having arrived, in most painful anxiety the parents waited for further confirmation. In a letter to his wife, written during this time of suspense, Mr. Richmond wrote-" Perhaps the report of the ship's loss is designed of God to do us good. Nay, can I doubt it? If it should prove true, the temporary check given to it has a lenient and merciful tendency to prepare our minds for the event. If false, it must call forth_gratitude when it shall be proved so. It can be no subject of wonder, either to you or me, that accidents should happen amidst the perils of the seas. After all we have gone through on that trying subject, I hope we are prepared to view all its contingencies as those who have experienced too much mercy from our God and Saviour not to trust Him in the darker and more mysterious providences with which He may see good to try us. I perfectly accord with you in the most willing surrender of his life, if his soul be but safe; and, if it has pleased God to remove him in this way, why should we wholly despair of answers to prayer?"

At length it was stated the Arniston was wrecked near Cape Laguellas, and that every passenger on board had perished, with the exception of six persons; but in the list of the names of the survivors, the name of Mr. Richmond's son was not included. The whole family went into mourning. The father sorrowed for his lost child with a grief heightened by the absence of any communication as to the state of his mind.

In the following winter, a letter came to Mr. Richmond in the handwriting of the very son he had mourned as dead. Circumstances had prevented his sailing in the Arniston, of whose fate he seemed unconscious.

The transition of feeling was great on the receipt of this letter, and Mr. Richmond afterwards said that he felt, in this signal interposition of Divine Providence, a hope that his son was spared to manifest that spiritual change which he now felt was alone wanting to fill up the measure of his gratitude and praise.

In the year 1819, Mr. Richmond's mother died, and he wrote a brief memoir of her for the use of his children. In this, he addresses his sailor-son-" I would assiduously teach you to 'abhor that which is evil, and cleave to that which is good;' and, above all, I would, with the more earnestness and dependence on the covenant grace of God, present your mortal and immortal interest in supplications to Him who hath said, 'The promise is to you, and your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call.' And surely I may be allowed an excuse for dwelling on this text, even in the way of literal application, for you, my firstborn child, are indeed 'afar off;' and these pages may much more easily reach you, amongst your uncertain journeyings on the shores or the waves of India, than they can ever convey an adequate idea of the exercises of varied affection which your eventful history has occasioned us.

"As I stood on the shores of the Isle of Wight, in the summer of 1814, and

watched the departure of the ship, I mused over the past, the present, and the future, until the shadows of the night interrupted my view. One moment sug

gested, 'My poor child will soon be afar off;' the next, as it were, replied, ‘But the promise is unto you and your children, even to as many as are afar off.' The thought consoled me, and, as I returned homeward, I prayed for my little ones, that God would speak peace to you who were afar off,' and to them who were nigh. And then, my son, when, the following year, we received tidings of the wreck of your ship, and the destruction of nearly all the crew, we seemed, in this 'valley of the shadow of death,' more than ever to need the rod and staff of the Great Shepherd to comfort us. At that time, the same promise came to our aid, and we felt its consoling influence, while, like Aaron, when his sons were dead, we held our peace; and when afterwards it pleased God, in the mysteries of His mercies, to prove to us that you had no part in the horrors of the watery grave, it did indeed seem once more fulfilled'This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.' The welfare of my child 'afar off' continues to be very near to my heart."

Nugent Richmond was employed in sailing from Calcutta, and other ports of India, in merchant vessels, to the Isle of France and Gibraltar. From thence, in 1820, he wrote to his father, urging a meeting between them. His letters had expressed much affection for his parents, contrition for the past, and desires of amendment. Several persons, who had been with him, bore testimony to a change in his character and conduct, and the officers under whom he had served spoke highly of his attention to duty.

About this period he suffered shipwreck, making his escape from the sinking vessel with some others on a roughly. constructed raft. Writing to his father, he said, "Oh, my dear father, no one can conceive the horrors of shipwreck but

6

those who have experienced them! In this unfortunate occurrence I have lost almost everything. I saved nothing but a very small trunk, in which I put my Bible, the Annals of the Poor,' two suits of clothes, and my watch. How my hopes and expectations are frustrated! Oh, that this may be for my good! When the ship struck, I went below, and prayed with heart and soul to Almighty God to save us. A certain somethinga kind of comfortable thought-seemed to arise, and say, 'Thy life shall be saved; and not all the shocks, seas, or wind could make me fear the contrary.'

Arrived at Calcutta, in a most destitute state, Nugent made himself known to a clergyman, through whose great kindness and exertions a subscription was raised for him, out of respect to his father, by means of which he was provided with necessaries, and soon obtained employment on another vessel.

In 1825, while Mr. Richmond was visiting the Isle of Wight, after the death of his second son, and while he was anticipating, at no very distant date, a visit from Nugent, he heard a report that he had died on his voyage homeward; and, after a few weeks, a letter arrived from the Rev. Mr. Thompson, of Calcutta, stating that Nugent had left in a vessel bound to the Mauritius; that he had had fever, from which he had not perfectly recovered at the time of sailing; that afterwards, exposed to very severe weather, he had a relapse, and, at length, to the surprise and grief of all on board, was found one morning dead in his cabin. A little ivory box was found near him, containing a few trinkets, intended as presents to his brothers and sisters. On the inside of the cover of this box, the following lines were written by his own hand, in pencil, apparently a short time before his death

"Where vice has held its empire long,

'Twill not endure the least control; None but a power divinely strong

Can turn the current of the soul."

"Great God, I own Thy power divine That works to change this heart of mine;

I would be formed anew, and bless
The wonders of renewing grace."

Writing to a friend, who was apparently near death, and referring to a visit he had paid him, with his second son, who died in consumption, Legh Richmond said, "When I last parted with you, I had a dear boy with me. You are hastening to the mansions where he dwells. There Christ is All. I have lost my eldest son, my sailor-boy; but God has found him, and I trust all is well there also."

In a letter to his daughter, in Scotland, the sorrowing father says, Nugent left, out of the scanty store preserved from the wreck of the Oracabessa, one hundred rupees [a rupee is about two shillings and sixpence] for general charitable purposes, fifty to the Bible Society, fifty to the Church Missionary Society, and fifty to the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. He was snatched from our embraces at the hour of returning to them. He is buried in the depths of the ocean, but the sea shall give up her dead, and I trust he shall then appear a living soul."

A tablet, erected in the church of Turvey by Legh Richmond, records the manner of his son's death. The last four lines of the verses he wrote were inscribed on it, with the appropriate passage from the Psalms, "By terrible things in righteousness wilt Thou answer us, O God of our salvation, who art the confidence of all the ends of the earth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea." DAISY.

EMINENT positions make great men more great and little ones less.

THE manner of giving shows the character of the giver more than the gift itself.

AN INTERESTING STORY.

GENTLEMAN of wealth and considerable artistic taste and judgment was one day riding in his carriage past Whitehall, when the peculiar antics of a little chimney-sweep arrested his attention, and he called to the driver to stop, which he did.

It was a thin, sickly-looking boy; and he would probably have looked pale, had it not been for the soot upon his face. He was not more than ten or twelve years of age, and dressed as one would suppose a poor ragged sweep might be dressed.

This boy had in his hand a piece of chalk, and, after a time, the gentleman made out that he was engaged in drawing the street front of Whitehall upon the basement stones of the building itself, carrying his drawing as high as his little arm could possibly reach, and thus he proceeded with his work. He would run out into the middle of the street and gaze up at the majestic front of the structure; then he would return to the base of the building, and go on with his drawing. The gentleman looked on until he had satisfied himself that the little fellow was accomplishing a really artistic drawing, when he hailed him, and called him to the side of the carriage, and asked him who he was and where he lived.

The boy burst into a flood of tears, and begged the gentleman piteously not to tell his master, promising that he would "wipe it all off."

"Don't be alarmed, my boy. Take that, and let it convince you that I mean you no harm, but only good; and, as he spoke, he gave the boy a shilling, after which he learned where the master lived. This master was a well-known chimneysweeper in Charles Court, in the Strand, who gave the boy an excellent character when the gentleman called. But," he added, "he's of very little use to me. He's too weak to do my work, and he gets himself bruised badly." The gentleman

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had observed that the lad's face looked as though it had been scraped and injured.

The master furthermore said he was fully aware of the boy's fondness for chalking, and he took his visitor into a back room, and showed him what a condition the walls were in, from the efforts of the young artist to delineate the portico of St. Martin's Church.

The gentleman very soon satisfied himself that the boy's heart was in the right place, and, after that, he determined to befriend him. He bought his time of the sweep, sent him to school, until he had gained a good common education; then sent him to Italy, to study with some of the best artists of the day, and finally, upon his return to England, this same generous patron gave him employment, and introduced him to his friends.

He

Isaac Ware was the boy's name. had become a fair painter, and had produced one or two excellent pieces of carving; but his surpassing skill was in architecture, and as an architect he established himself in business. Chesterfield House, in Audley Street, one of the handsomest structures in London, was built by him.

Isaac Ware became a wealthy and honoured man, admitted to the first circles, his friendship sought by the highest in the land; and yet, to the day of his death, he carried the stain of soot in his face, where it had been cruelly ground in beneath the cuticle in the days of his boyhood.

IT is not the ship being in the water, but the water in the ship, that sinks her; not our being in the world, but the world in us, that is so fatal.

AN infidel said one day, "There is one thing that mars all the pleasure of my life, and that is, the fear lest the Bible should prove true. This is the thorn that stings me, for, if the Bible is true, I am lost for ever.' 19

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THE HEART.

HROB! throb ! throb ! Never sleeping, but often tired, loaded with care, chilled by despair, bleeding with wounds (often inflicted by those who do not understand it), or burdened with affliction, it must beat on for a lifetime. Nothing finds a lodgment in its chambers that does not add to its labours. Every thought that the mind generates steps upon the heart before it wings its way into the outer world. The memories of lost loved ones are mountains of weight upon its sensitiveness. The anxieties of the soul stream to the heart and bank themselves upon it, as the early snow-drifts cover the tender plants. Love, if it loves, fires it with feverish warmth, and makes it the more sensitive; hate, if it hates, heats it to desperation, and fills it with conflicts. Still it works on. When slumber closes the eyelids, the heart is beating-beating beneath all its burdens. It works while we sleep; it works while we play; it aches when we laugh. Do not unnecessarily wound it; do not add to its bleeding wounds. Speak a kind word to cheer it; warm it when it is cold; encourage it when it despairs.

THEY trod the desert day by day,
And yet, most wonderful to say,
Their feet were never swelled nor sore,
Though barren sands they travelled o'er ;
Their God was near,

And o'er them spread His shadow.

For forty years their garments stood;
In constant use, yet always good;
From sire to son the clothing passed-
Well washed, well worn, and to the last
It bore the strain,

And served them all their journey.

The God who cared for Israel thus,
Provides as certainly for us;
And He who then such wonders wrought
Can still, beyond our utmost thought,
Do wondrous things

For all who love and trust Him.

So all who walk the heavenly way
Renew their strength from day to day;
Salvation's garments wax not old,
And ever shall this truth be told,
With grateful joy,
"The Lord is all-sufficient !
HEPHZIBAH.

HOW TO LABOUR.

RECREATION does not mean idleness, and it may mean labour. A wise man will so arrange his labours that each succeeding one shall be so totally different from the last that it shall serve as a recreation for it. Physical exertion may follow mental, and then give place to it again. A man equally wise in all other hygienic measures, who could nicely adjust the labours of mind and body in their true proportions, might hope to attain old age with all the mental faculties fresh and vigorous to the last.

BIBLE SUBJECTS FOR EACH SUNDAY IN JANUARY. Jan. 4. Commit to memory Isa. lvii. 15. Jan. 18. Commit to memory Rom. v. 10. Jan. 11. Commit to memory Rom. ix. 15. Jan. 25. Commit to memory 2 Cor. v. 21.

GRATITUDE is real when it lives thanks as well as gives thanks.