"Nobody's Own."
Many regiments in the British army are called after and said to be owned by this or that prince or princess. There is "The Princess of Wales's Own," "Princess Charlotte's Own," and so on. One regiment, however, rejoices in the nickname of "Nobody's Own," because it is not named after anybody. It is a grand thing to think that no Christian can be called "Nobody's Own," for we are all called after Christ and owned by our Father in heaven.
New Books.
Elsewhere in this number will be found an illustrated article on "Childish Memories of Lewis Carroll," and we venture to think that readers of those reminiscences will require no pressing to turn to the biography of this universally favourite author, just published by Mr. Fisher Unwin under the title "The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll." Mr. S. D. Collingwood, who is responsible for the work, frankly admits that it is impossible to give a really adequate presentation of the extraordinarily complex character of his late uncle. He has, however, produced a most able and interesting sketch, which includes many characteristic letters, and is profusely illustrated. Quite a different life-story is also before us in the form of the Rev. George Adam Smith's biography of his friend, the late Professor Henry Drummond (Hodder and Stoughton). No one could lay down this book without feeling that Drummond was in every sense a great man—with a great intellect, a great heart, and a constant, burning desire to be about his Father's business. It is true that he made mistakes, that he put forth certain theories not generally acceptable, and which he himself modified in later years, but throughout his life his honesty of purpose was unquestionable. His influence and power as a preacher and teacher were remarkable, and many of those whom he reached through his addresses and books will feel indebted to Dr. Smith for this critical and comprehensive story of his life.—From Messrs. Smith, Elder and Company comes a new story from our own contributor, Katharine Tynan, entitled "The Dear Irish Girl," of which we need say no more than that it is the love story of a most winning Irish lassie, written in the bright, entertaining style so well-known to our readers.—"Helps to Godly Living" (Elliot Stock) is the happy title of an excellent little work which consists of helpful and comforting extracts from the writings and addresses of the present Archbishop of Canterbury, selected and arranged by the Rev. J. H. Burn, B.D.—A pathetic interest attaches to the two dainty volumes of poems by the late Dr. J. R. Macduff, entitled "Matin and Vesper Bells" (Cassell), in that the author did not live to see their completion. Many of the poems have been already published independently in various forms, but we believe that this collected edition of Dr. Macduff's tender and inspiring verse will be heartily welcomed.—We have also to acknowledge the receipt of a tastefully produced volume entitled "The More Excellent Way" (Henry Frowde), in which the Hon. Mrs. Lyttelton Gell has carefully arranged the choicest extracts from the works of ancient and modern authors on "The Life of Love"; a collection of addresses on the Beatitudes by the Rev. J. R. Miller, D.D., entitled "The Master's Blesseds" (Hodder and Stoughton); an interesting and instructive work on medical missionary work amongst the blind in India, entitled "They Shall See His Face" (Bocardo Press, Oxford); "Aids to Belief" (Elliot Stock), a series of studies on the divine origin of Christianity by the Rev. W. H. Langthorne; and a volume of sermons by the late Charles H. Spurgeon, which have been published by Messrs. Passmore and Alabaster under the title "The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit."
(Photo supplied by the Missionary Leaves Association.)
THE WOLF-BOY OF SECUNDRA.
AS A BOY. AS A MAN.
A Wolf-Boy.
What was to be done with such a boy! The magistrate sahib of Bulandshahr had heard of Romulus and Remus, but rational people rejected the legend of their infancy. Yet here was a child of five or six years of age, crawling on the ground before him, and the statement of several witnesses that he had been smoked out of a wolf's den could not be disputed. These men were natives of India. Whilst travelling in a jungle of the Bulandshahr district, they saw a queer though undoubted specimen of humanity crawl into a hole. By the magistrate's order a fire was lighted at the mouth. Out sprang a snarling and indignant mother-wolf, which, after scattering the bystanders, fled for life. Behind her ran on all fours a little boy, who was speedily secured and conveyed to the magistrate. He was imbecile. He would eat no food but raw meat, and he tore any clothing placed on him into shreds. The magistrate sent him to the Church Missionary Orphanage at Secundra, a refuge for between four and five hundred children, nearly all infants picked up in the streets or by the roadside. There this child, who was found on Saturday, February 4th, 1867, grew up into manhood. On the same principle that Robinson Crusoe called his man Friday, the wolf-boy was named Sanichar, or Saturday. By degrees a certain amount of intelligence and a decided religious instinct developed. He became gentle and sociable, and ready with cheerful unselfishness to share the many little presents he received with his companions. He attached himself with great affection to one of the caretakers. On the death of this man, Sanichar in dumb sorrow and bewilderment looked from one to another of his friends for an explanation. They pointed to the grave, and then to the sky. The boy was deeply impressed, and ever afterwards, if he felt ill, he would feign sleep, and point first to the ground and then to the sky. He never learnt to speak, but perhaps he was trying to convey the impression that he looked forward to following his dear friend. Two other wolf-boys and one wolf-girl were brought to the Secundra orphanage, but they died soon afterwards. Whether they had been cast out by their parents or kidnapped by the inveterate robber-wolves of the district could not be discovered. They were a witness that tenderness, too often lost in heathenism, may be found in one of the most rapacious beasts. With hundreds of little outcasts under Christian care, they tell of a Father above who remembers even though parents may forget their children.