In the northern part of England lived a pious widow with her seven daughters and one son. The latter proved ungrateful for her care and became her scourge and cross. He loved worldly company and pursued a wayward course till becoming impoverished it was necessary for him to go to sea. When his mother took leave of him she gave him a New Testament, inscribed with his name and her own and solemnly and tenderly entreated him to keep the book and read it for her sake. Years passed without tidings of his whereabouts. Occasionally when visiting the metropolis she would inquire for the ship in which her son had sailed, but without satisfaction. On one occasion she accidentally met a sea captain, who informed her that the vessel had been wrecked, and that Charles, whom he knew well, had gone as all like him should go, to the bottom of the sea. Pierced to the soul, the unhappy mother withdrew and resolved in future to live in strict retirement. “I shall go down to the grave,” she said, “mourning for my son.” (Gen. 37:35). She moved to a seaport. After the lapse of years a destitute sailor seeking relief knocked at the door. She heard his tale. He had several times been wrecked, but he had never been so dreadfully destitute as he was some years back, when he and a fine young gentleman were the only individuals of a whole ship’s crew that were saved. “We were cast upon a desert island, where, after seven days and nights, I closed his eyes. Poor fellow, I shall never forget it. He read day and night in a little book, which he said his mother gave him, and which was the only thing he saved. It was his companion every moment. He talked of nothing but this book and his mother, and at last he gave it to me, with many thanks for my poor services. ‘There, Jack,’ said he, ‘take this book, keep and read it, and may God bless you, it’s all I’ve got,’ and then he clasped my hand and died in peace.”
“Is all this true?” asked the trembling, astonished mother. “Yes, madam, every word of it.” Then, drawing from his ragged coat a little book, much battered and time-worn, he held it up, exclaiming, “and here it is.” She seized the Testament, recognized her own handwriting and beheld the name of her son coupled with her own on the cover. She gazed, read, wept and rejoiced. She seemed to hear a voice which said, “Behold, thy son liveth!” (John 4:50). Amidst her conflicting emotions, she was ready to exclaim: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.” (Luke 2:29, 30).
If my boy, a book helps one to die, it must be an excellent book by which to live. Make it your constant companion and study, looking for its precepts as well as promises, and determine to live up to every duty as you shall discover it. On the day of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation, a boy, skilled in athletic feats, was dressed as an angel, with wings on his shoulders and feet, and on the approach of the royal coach, he descended as if from heaven, from the top of Temple Bar, bearing an elegant Bible, expressly made for the Queen. As he descended, the crowd exclaimed: “The Bible Bearer!” Blessed the boy who accepts God’s call to be a “Bible Bearer.” Said David, “Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against Thee.” (Ps. 119:11).
“Here the tree of knowledge grows,
And yields a free repast;
Here purer sweets than nature knows,
Invite the longing taste.”
CHAPTER XXIV
Be a Sabbath Observer
INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XXIV
By Wilbur F. Crafts