Eric, a waif

by Emma Leslie

"Now the medicine. You can give him that, Eric, if I pour it out." And the bottle was carried to where there was a little more light, for only a few stray beams could penetrate the gloom here.

Eric gave the medicine and supplied the man with drink, and then followed Sister Martin to another bedside, while a woman was set to wash out the dirty clothes that had been taken from the patients.

They had only been a few days at sea, but sickness had broken out among the convicts, as it frequently did on these voyages. The Methodist sister, however, was prepared for this, and had brought a stock of old clothes and a little chest of medicines, with a good supply of soap, needles and cottons, which she could teach the women to use in the course of the long voyage; for, if winds were contrary, this was greatly prolonged over the ordinary period of eight or ten weeks.

Sickness, if not too severe in type, was rather a help to the work this good woman had set herself to accomplish among these unfortunate people, for it subdued the men, and often awoke in them, and in the women, too, latent good qualities, hitherto unsuspected even by themselves; and to keep alive these sparks of true humanity when once awakened, to make these stepping stones to higher things, was the object of her teaching.

For this, she held classes among the women, to teach them how to patch and mend the clothes she had brought with her, and thus evoke their helpfulness on their own behalf and sympathy with their fellow convicts, who were to benefit by this.

The men were set to patch the boots and shoes with odd bits of leather she had brought among her stores, and all were taught the duty of cleanliness and the use of soap and water.

Then, when the daily tasks of washing, scrubbing and sewing were over, she would gather round her all who cared to listen, and tell them of the love of God their Father in heaven, who had sent His Son into this world of sin and pain, that He might know just what human pain and sorrow were, and so be able to help and sympathise with all who sought Him.

"For us, for you and me, my friends, did the Lord Jesus suffer such trials and sorrows, and such a cruel death that we might have life—might learn to know and love and serve Him, and so be made sharers in His life and love. This alone can lift us out of the power of sin and the love of sin. I need not tell you who have suffered so sorely, that sin ever leads to misery, and that to escape from misery, sin must be given up. I know some of you will say this is impossible, and in your own strength it is, but God is ready to help you in the struggle against its power, if you will only seek His help.

"To many of you, this is a fresh start in life. Old companions are left behind, and old temptations too, and in the new country to which you are going, a new life may be lived—a life whose secret spring is hidden from the world, hidden with God, but by prayer and constant looking to Him a spring of joy and help for every time of need."

This was how the Methodist sister talked to the broken-down men and women among whom she had come to live. At first, some of them might suspect and despise her, because of the prejudice that was everywhere felt against Methodists by those who did not know them.