The World of Waters. Mrs. David Osborne
chamber. The next day poor Frank died, and was buried by the side of Clara and Lucy. The funeral service was read by my dear father, who was enabled to stand under all these trials of his faith, for God sustained him; and, having trained us up in the fear and admonition of the Lord, he did not grieve as one without hope, when his darlings were taken from him, for he knew they were gone to a better world, and were happy in the bosom of their heavenly Father. His greatest trial was the illness of my mother; but before we were all quite well, she was able to leave her chamber, and once again kneel with us at our family altar, to return thanks to God for his many mercies. There were only three of her seven children left to her, and when my father blessed God that they were not rendered childless, my mother's feelings overpowered her, and she was borne fainting from the room.
"'But I fear I am tiring you with these melancholy accounts, madam. You know not how deeply I enjoy the recollection of those days, for through this wilderness of sorrow there was a narrow stream of happiness placidly gliding, to which we could turn amidst the troubles of the world, and refresh our fainting souls; and, though we grieved at the remembrance of the loved ones now gone from us, yet we would not have recalled them to these scenes of woe, to share future troubles with us. Oh no! my dear father was a faithful follower of Christ; he used to show us so many causes for thankfulness in our late afflictions, which he said were "blessings in disguise," that happiness and tranquillity were soon restored to our home.
"'Two or three years glided by, and when I was eleven years old, my father, one day, called me into his study, and, looking seriously at me, said, "Frederic, my child, God has been very good to you; he has spared your life through many dangers; you, of all my sons, only remain to me, and may your days be many and prosperous! Now, what can you render unto the Lord for all his mercies towards you; ought not the life God has so graciously spared be in gratitude consecrated to his service? Tell me what you think in this matter. I speak thus early, my dear Frederic, because I wish you to consider well, before you are sent from home, what are to be your future plans; for as life is uncertain, and none of us know the day nor the hour in which the summons may arrive, I should feel more happy, were I assured that you would tread in my footsteps when I am gone; that you, my only boy," and he clasped me in his arms as he spoke, "that you would be a comfort to your mother and sisters, when my labors are ended, and would carry on the work which I have begun in this portion of the Lord's vineyard, and His blessing and the blessing of a fond father will ever attend your steps."
"'I raised my eyes to my father's face, and, for the first time, noticed how pale and haggard he looked; all the bright and joyous expression of his countenance when in health had given place to a mild and melancholy shade of sadness, which affected me painfully; for the thought struck me that my father was soon to be called away.
"'I evaded answering his question, and when he found I did not reply, he said, "My son, let us ask the direction of Almighty God in this great work." I knelt with him, and was lost in admiration. I could not remove my eyes from his face during the prayer; his whole soul seemed absorbed in communion with God, and as I gazed, I wondered what the glorious angels must be like, when the face of my beloved father, while here on earth, looked so exquisitely lovely, glowing in the beauty of holiness.
"'For several days, the conversation in the study was continually in my mind; I could think of nothing else. I did not like the profession well enough to have chosen it myself, for I disliked retirement; but after an inward struggle, betwixt my inclination and my duty, I resolved, that, to please my father, I would study for the church. One day, my godfather, Captain Hartly, came to see us, and he took great notice of me. He asked me if I should like to go to sea? Then he told me such fine things about life in the navy, and on board ship, that my wavering mind fired at his descriptions, and I determined to be a sailor, for such a life would be more congenial to my feelings than the quiet life of a country clergyman. I did not mention this to my father, for he was ill, and I feared to grieve him; nevertheless, had he asked me, I should certainly have opened my heart to him without dissimulation. I often fretted when I thought how sorry he would be to hear that I did not care to be engaged in the service of his Master; when one morning, as I was lying in bed, a servant came into my room, and desired me to hasten to my father's chamber, to receive his blessing, for he was dying.
"'I did hasten. I know not how I got there. I rushed into his arms, I threw myself on his neck, and felt as if I too must die. He was too much exhausted to speak; but he placed his hand on my head, and, slightly moving his lips, the expression of his features told, in plain language, that his heart was engaged in prayer. He was praying, and for me—me, his unworthy son, and when I considered that I could not comply with his wishes without being a hypocrite, I thought my heart would burst. For several minutes, was my dear father thus occupied; then, turning to my weeping mother, who was kneeling by the bedside, he softly uttered her name. Alas! it was with his parting breath, for gently, as an infant falls asleep on the bosom of its nurse, did my revered parent fall asleep in the arms of that Saviour who had been his guide and comforter through life, and who accompanied him through the dark valley, and by his presence made bright the narrow path which leads to the abode of the redeemed.
"'The only earthly friend we had to look to, in our bereavement, was Captain Hartly; and he could only promise to assist me if I would enter the navy, or go on board a merchant-ship. My poor mother objected to this, and I remained at home another twelvemonth, and again mourned the loss of a dear relative. My sister Bertha fell a victim to consumption, exactly nine months after the death of my lamented father. It was cruel to leave my mother under such circumstances, particularly as she remonstrated with me so earnestly on my project of going to sea, and offered to make any sacrifice, if I would consent to go to college, and follow out my father's plans. But my heart was fixed; and every visit from my godfather tended to inflame me still more with a longing for a sea-faring life; and, at length, I told him I was willing to be bound apprentice to a captain of a merchant-ship, rather than lose the chance of going to sea. He eagerly embraced the offer, and in a few weeks the affair was settled satisfactorily for all parties but my dear mother and sister. Marian wept bitterly when the letter came which concluded the arrangements, and informed me what day to be on board. My mother went to see the captain, and entreated him to be kind to me. But she knew not the disposition of the man to whose care I was entrusted, or I am sure nothing would have induced her to consent to my plans. I dare say it is all for the best. I shall, perhaps, learn my duty better with Captain Simmons than I should have done with a kinder master. It is well my mother knows nothing of this; for, even believing I should be treated with the utmost kindness, the separation was almost more than she had fortitude to bear, and she bade me farewell nearly heart-broken. I have never ceased to regret that I preferred my own will to the authority of my parents; I deserve all I suffer, and much more, for my rebellion against them. This, madam, is all I have to tell you. I hope you will not cast me off, because I have been so self-willed; for here I have no friend to aid me, and I still feel the same desire for my present mode of life. I am quite sure I am not suited for a clergyman; but I do not think I could live long with this captain. If I could get shipped in another vessel, with a master not quite so severe, in a little time I should be able to work for money, and assist my dear mother; and if she saw me occasionally, and knew I was well and happy, she would be content and thankful.'
"Such was Frederic's simple account of himself. In five days we came in sight of Port Royal, and anchored off there during the night: the next day we went ashore, and my brother Herbert, who was a merchant in Kingston, was ready to receive me, and welcome me to his house.
"I took the earliest opportunity of speaking to him concerning Frederic: he promised to make some arrangement for the boy's advantage, and he fulfilled his promise. He got him transferred to the 'Albatross,' Captain Hill, a kind, gentlemanly man. There Frederic remained for several years, and gained such approbation by his exemplary conduct, that, at length, he became first mate, and afterwards (on the death of Captain Hill) master.
"A few years back, Captain Hartly died; leaving him considerable property. He made it his first business to settle his mother comfortably, and she is now residing with Marian (who married a surgeon,) in St. John's Wood. He next purchased a ship, and has already made six voyages in her to the West Indies; so that you see all things have prospered with Frederic Hamilton, because 'he feared the Lord always.' I hear from him after every voyage, and have seen