R. M. Ballantyne

“ At the bottom of the hill lies Brankly itself, with its orchards and homestead and fields of golden grain, and its little river, with the little saw-mill going as pertinaciously as if it, like the river, had resolved to go on for ever. Cattle are there, sheep are there, horses and wagons are there, wealth and prosperity are there, above all happiness is there, because there also dwells the love of God. ”

“ At the same moment Sir Richard Brandon issued from the door of his mansion leisurely, and with an air of calm serenity, pulling on his gloves. It was one of the knight’s maxims that, under all circumstances, a gentleman should maintain an appearance of imperturbable serenity. When, however, he suddenly beheld the street boy falling, and his daughter standing up in her wickerwork chariot, holding on to the brown pony like an Amazon warrior of ancient times, his maxim somehow evaporated. ”

“ Mr Merryboy thinks that Canada can produce splendid men of its own without importing them from England, and Mrs Merryboy holds that the same may be said in regard to the women of Canada, and old granny, who is still alive, with a face like a shrivelled-up potato, blinks with undimmed eyes, and nods her snow-white head, and beams her brightest smile in thorough approval of these sentiments. ”

“ They all rose and ran to the door, where a woman, in the lowest depths of depravity, with her eyes bloodshot, her hair tumbling about her half-naked shoulders, and her ragged garments draggled and wet, had fallen in her efforts to enter the public-house to obtain more of the poison which had already almost destroyed her. She had cut her forehead, and the blood flowed freely over her face as the missionary lifted her. He was a powerful man, and could take her up tenderly and with ease. ”

“ On his way to the hospital he saw a remarkably tall policeman approaching.
“Well, you are a long-legged copper,” he muttered to himself, with an irrepressible laugh as he thought of old times. The old spirit seemed to revive with the old associations, for he felt a strong temptation to make a face at the policeman, execute the old double-shuffle, stick his thumb to the end of his nose, and bolt! As the man drew nearer he did actually make a face in spite of himself—a face of surprise—which caused the man to stop.
“Excuse me,” said Bob, with much of his old bluntness, “are not you Number 666?” ”

“ To these we do not speak, and to these we would not grudge the small alleviation to their sad case which may be found in stimulants; but to the young and strong and healthy we are surely entitled to say, to plead, and to entreat—put on the blue ribbon if you see your way to it. And by the young we mean not only all boys and girls, but all men and women in the prime of life, ay, and beyond the prime, if in good health. Surely you will all admit that the young require no stimulants. ”

“ You see it takes a hundred or more sixpences every Monday merely to keep that sewing-class going, and more than once there has been a talk of closing it for want of funds, but the poor creatures have pleaded so pitifully that they might still be allowed to attend, even though they should work at half-price, that it has been hitherto continued. You see it is a matter of no small moment for those women merely to spend three hours in a room with a good fire, besides which they delight in the hymns and prayers and the loving counsel and comfort they receive. ”

“ Conscience—never killed, and now revived—began to act.
“I must work,” she said, internally, and conscience nodded approval. “I must drink less,” she said, but conscience shook her head. “It will be very hard, you see,” she continued, apologetically, “for a poor woman like me to get through a hard day without just one glass of beer to strengthen me.”
Conscience did all her work by looks alone. She was naturally dumb, but she had a grand majestic countenance with great expressive eyes, and at the mention of one glass of beer she frowned so that poor Mrs Frog almost trembled. ”

“ For Mrs Twitter was a wise, unselfish woman, as well as good. At a certain point she ceased to act, and said, “Mrs Frog, go to your own Hetty, and she will tell you what to do.”
And Mrs Frog went, and Hetty, with joyful surprise in her heart, and warm tears of gratitude in her eyes, pointed her to Jesus the Saviour of mankind. It was nothing new to the poor woman to be thus directed. It is nothing new to almost any one in a Christian land to be pointed to Christ; but it is something new to many a one to have the eyes opened to see, and the will influenced to accept. ”

“ Hetty knew this to be too true. Without the grace of God in the heart, she was well aware that human efforts must fail, sooner or later. She was thinking what to reply, and praying in her heart for guidance, when the door opened and her brother Bobby swaggered in with an air that did not quite accord with his filthy fluttering rags, unwashed face and hands, bare feet and unkempt hair. ”

“ In all of these various processes Love is the guiding principle of the operator—love to God and love to the boy. He is made to understand, and to feel, that it is in the name of Jesus, for the love of Jesus, and in the spirit of Jesus—not of mere philanthropy—that all this is done, and that his body is cared for chiefly in order that the soul may be won.
Little wonder, then, that a boy or girl, whose past experience has been the tender mercies of the world—and that the roughest part of the world—should become somewhat “respectable,” as Sir Richard put it, under such new and blessed influences. ”

“ But Sammy had over-rated his own powers. After the first burst of applause was over, he stood gazing at the audience with his mouth half open, vainly attempting to recollect the song he meant to sing, and making such involuntary contortions with his thin visage, that a renewed burst of laughter broke forth. When it had partially subsided, Sammy once more opened his mouth, gave vent to a gasp, burst into tears, and rushed from the stage.
This was the climax! It brought down the house! Never before had they seen such an actor. ”

“ Like little giants refreshed they rose up again to play—to swing, to leap, to wrestle, to ramble, to gather flowers, to roll on the grass, to bask in the gladdening sunshine, and, in some cases, to thank God for all His mercies, in spite of the latent feeling of regret that there was so little of all that enjoyment in the slums, and dark courts, and filthy back-streets of the monster city. ”

“ Poor Mrs Frog, misjudging his intentions, and roused to a fit of temporary insanity by her wrongs and sorrows, sprang at her supposed foe like a wildcat. She was naturally a strong woman, and violent passion lent her unusual strength.
Oh! it was pitiful to witness the struggle that ensued!—to see a woman, forgetful of sex and everything else, striving with all her might to bite, scratch, and kick, while her hair tumbled down, and her bonnet and shawl falling off made more apparent the insufficiency of the rags with which she was covered. ”

“ Whatever may be the truth with regard to paupers and workhouses in general, there ought to be a distinct refuge for the aged, which should be attractive—not repulsive, as at present—and age, without reference to character or antecedents, should constitute the title to enter it. ‘God pity the aged poor,’ is often my prayer, ‘and enable us to feel more for them in the dreary, pitiful termination of their career.’”
“But, my dear sir,” returned Sir Richard, “you would have old paupers crowding into such workhouses, or refuges as you call them, by the thousand.” ”

“ Youngsters! Are you up?—ah! here you are. Good-morning, and as tidy as two pins. That’s the way to get along in life. Come now, sit down. Where’s Martha? Oh! here we are. Sit beside me, little one.”
The hurricane suddenly fell to a gentle breeze, while part of a chapter of the Bible and a short prayer were read. Then it burst forth again with redoubled fury, checked only now and then by the unavoidable stuffing of the vent-hole.
“You’ve slept well, dears, I hope?” said Mrs Merryboy, helping each of our waifs to a splendid fried fish. ”

“ Let us look at Mrs Frog’s room now, and listen to her as she sits on one side of a cheerful fire, sewing, while Hetty sits on the other side, similarly occupied, and Matty, alias Mita, lies in her crib sound asleep.
It is the same room, the same London atmosphere, which no moral influence will ever purify, and pretty much the same surroundings, for Mrs Frog’s outward circumstances have not altered much in a worldly point of view. The neighbours in the court are not less filthy and violent. One drunken nuisance has left the next room, but another almost as bad has taken his place. ”

“ And, as the curtain of night falls on these ragged ones, scattered now, many of them, to varied homes of vice, and filth, and misery, the heavy eyelids close to open again, perchance, in ecstatic dreams of food, and fun and green fields, fresh air and sunshine, which impress them more or less with the idea embodied in the aphorism, that “God made the country, but man made the town.” ”

“ The place was the last refuge of the destitute; the social sink into which all that is improvident, foolish, reckless, thriftless, or criminal finally descends.
Sir Richard and Welland had put on their oldest great-coats and shabbiest wideawakes; they had also put off their gloves and rings and breastpins in order to attract as little attention as possible, but nothing that they could have done could have reduced their habiliments to anything like the garments of the poor creatures with whom they now mingled. ”

“ Di emphasised her sorrow by laughing, for she had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and the memory of the spinning helmet was strong upon her just then.
“It must indeed have been an unpleasant blow,” replied Sir Richard, gravely, “but then, dear, you couldn’t help it, you know—and I dare say he is none the worse for it now. Men like him are not easily injured. I fear we cannot say as much for the boy who was holding the pony.”
“Oh! I quite forgot about him,” exclaimed Di; “the naughty boy! he wouldn’t let go the pony’s reins when I bid him, but I saw he tumbled down when we set off.” ”

“ Poverty Manages to Board out her Infant for Nothing.
On the night of the day about which we have been writing, a woman, dressed in “unwomanly rags” crept out of the shadow of the houses near London Bridge. She was a thin, middle-aged woman, with a countenance from which sorrow, suffering, and sin had not been able to obliterate entirely the traces of beauty. She carried a bundle in her arms which was easily recognisable as a baby, from the careful and affectionate manner in which the woman’s thin, out-spread fingers grasped it. ”

“ Sir Richard has changed his mind! You know, in my last, I told you he had helped to assist several poor families from this quarter—as well as mother and me, and Matty. He is a real friend to the poor, for he doesn’t merely fling coppers and old clothes at them, but takes trouble to find out about them, and helps them in the way that seems best for each. It’s all owing to that sweet Miss Di, who comes so much about here that she’s almost as well-known as Giles Scott the policeman, or our missionary. ”

“ Mrs Twitter had put out a hand when Mrs Frog tripped and was about to tumble, and thus kept her from falling. When Mrs Frog, weary of life, was on the point of rushing once again to London Bridge, with a purpose, Mrs Twitter caught the skirt of her ragged robe with a firm but kindly grasp and held her back, thus saving her from destruction; but, best of all, when the poor woman, under the influence of the Spirit of God, ceased to strive with her Maker and cried out earnestly, “What must I do to be saved?” ”

“ Bobby Frog did not quite see his way to assent to that. The waterfalls on the iceberg were bigger, he admitted, than those in the pantomime, but then, there was not so much glare and glitter around them.
“An’ I’m fond of glare an’ glitter,” he remarked, with a glance at his friend.
“So am I, Bob, but—”
At that instant the dinner-bell rang, and the eyes of both glittered—they almost glared—as they turned and made for the companion-hatch, Bob exclaiming, “Ah, that’s the thing that I’m fond of; glare an’ glitter’s all wery well in its way, but it can’t ’old a candle to grub!” ”

“ I am a London City Missionary. My name is John Seaward. We have, as you see, brought out a number of our Sunday-school children, to give them a sight of God’s beautiful earth; poor things, they’ve been used to bricks, mortar, and stone all their lives hitherto. Now, if you choose to spend the remainder of the day with us, we will be happy to give you and the injured bicycle a place in our vans till we reach a cabstand or a railway station. What say you? It will give much pleasure to me and the teachers.”
Welland glanced at his friend. “You see, Sam, there’s no help for it, old boy. ”

“ One night, as he was passing into his place of business—the music-hall—a man saw him and recognised him. This was a city missionary of the John Seaward type, who chanced to be fishing for souls that night in these troubled waters. There are many such fishermen about, thank God, doing their grand work unostentatiously, and not only rescuing souls for eternity, but helping, more perhaps than even the best informed are aware of, to save London from tremendous evil. ”

“ He was a huge, powerful fellow, and had various methods of obtaining money—some obvious and others mysterious—but nearly all his earnings went to the gin-palace, for Ned was a man of might, and could stand an enormous quantity of drink. Hetty, who worked, perhaps we should say slaved, for a firm which paid her one shilling a week, could not manage to find food for them all. Mrs Frog herself with her infant to care for, had found it hard work at any time to earn a few pence, and now Bobby’s active little limbs were reduced to inaction, converting him into a consumer instead of a producer. ”

“ And now a new era of life began for those rescued waifs and strays—those east-end diamonds from the great London fields. Canada—with its mighty lakes and splendid rivers, its great forests and rich lands, its interesting past, prosperous present, and hopeful future—opened up to view. ”

“ How the Poor are Succoured.
“I am obliged to you, Mr Seaward, for coming out of your way to see me,” said Sir Richard Brandon, while little Di brought their visitor a chair. “I know that your time is fully occupied, and would not have asked you to call had not my friend Mr Brisbane assured me that you had to pass my house daily on your way to—to business.”
“No apology, Sir Richard, pray. I am at all times ready to answer a call whether of the poor or the rich, if by any means I may help my Lord’s cause.” ”