11                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~1
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FRONTISPIECE.-See pagc 21.




,( A
A   ^        I
O   S T     N:
No 9  OR NHILr.
No. 9 CORNHILL.




Enitered according to Act of (Congress il the year 1870. by
HENRY  HOYT,
in the Office of the librarian of' Congress. at Washinglton.




TO
SETH SLOAN, M.D.,
AN ESTEEMED FRIEND AND RELATIVE,
_Mis FToluume
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
~








PREFACE.
oHIS volume is a picture from  life,
as recently seen by the author in
the region referred to. May it awaken an
interest in behalf of that important part of
our country, and especially in its moral
and religious wants!
J. H. L.








CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.              PAGE.
THE HARBOR, AND THE PEOPLE WHO LIVED THERE.. 11
CHAPTER II.
STRANGERS ARE LANDED.......    20
CHAPTER  I.
THE NORTHERN LIGHT....       26
CHAPTER IV.
A SACRED MESSENGER.....                       30
CHAPTER V.
A NEW PLACE AND A NEW NAME.... 41
CHAPTER VI.
A SUNDAY AT THE HARBOR...47
CHAPTER VII.
A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.. 68




8                 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.             PAGE.
A SAD CATASTROPHE. ~....      77
CHAPTER IX.
A HAPPY DISCOVERY...     86
CHAPTER X.
NIGHT THOUGHTS......                 99
CHAPTER XI.
A NEW ENTERPRISE..    ~  ~  ~  ~            103
CHAPTER XII.
OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS...   ~    112
CHAPTER xII.
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL....131
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MINISTER.........    140
CHAPTER XV.
THE SCHOOLHOUSE.........148
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CHILDREN'S MEETING...        154
CHAPTER XVHI.
PLANTS, AND WHAT THEY TEACH...   165




CONTENTS.                   9
CHAPTER XVIII.            PAGE.
THE CHURCH FORMED..... I73
CHAPTER XX.
MR. ALTON'S CONVICTION........ 178
CHAPTER XX.
A JOYFUL EVENT.......                    185
CHAPTER XXI.
OBJECTIONS MET...1... 190
CHAPTER IXTII.
DR. SPRAGUE'S CONVERSION..... 218
CHAPTER XXTTT.
A HOUSE OF WORSHIP.........226
CHAPTER XXIV.
A STRANGE ACCIDENT.....228
CHAPTER XXV.
WHAT HOPE?........236
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FUNERAL, AND WHAT FOLLOWED....  240




10                  CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXVII.               PAGE.
A NOBLE EFFORT.....   2. 244
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A GRAND SUCCESS.. 257
CHAPTER XXIX.
CONCLUSION.....260




SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
CHAPTER  I.
The Hlarbor, and the People who lived there.
N  the north-western coast of
Lake Michigan, a narrow point of
~:      nland bends around towards the west
~\~c    and north, somewhat like the curling tube of a snail-shell.  From  this peculiar
shape, the smooth sheet of clear water which
fills the cove was, by the early settlers of those
parts, called Snail-Shell Harbor.
There is scarcely a more romantic spot in all
this region.  The point itself, with its short,
1l




12         SNVAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
dense growth of cedars and white birch, pushing to the very edge of an abrupt shore of
bright limestone, forms a motley contrast with
the tall, dark-green forest clothing the higher
land, which rolls up against the horizon beyond.
The water is clear as crystal.  Fish more than
twenty feet from the surface seem near enough
to be reached with the hand, and pebbles gleam
as if within a show-case. The eastern curve
of the harbor, formed by the mainland, is a
continuous bluff of limestone, rising up out of
the water like a perpendicular wall some hundred and fifty feet.  Its strata are smoothly cut
and clearly marked, and look like a huge piece
of masonry.  Shrubbery has grown out of its
chinks; and vines creep about it in various
directions, and hang in rich festoons.  At its
base, fiagments of stone, shaped like broken
columns, rise to a considerable height out of the
water.
About two miles farther south is Indian




THE HARBOR.               13
Bluff. It reaches out a long distance into the
lake, continues its height of four hundred feet
to the extreme point, and is covered with a
short, dense growth of dark evergreen down to
the water's edge.
Between this and Snail-Shell Harbor is a
large inlet, around the head of which curves a
beautiful beach of yellow sand, densely packed,
and broad enough for several horsemen to ride
abreast.  The sand bottom  extends like an
immense inclined plane, a long distance into
the lake, making an admirable bathing-place.
Add now to the scene a few islands off the
mainland, and our idea of the locality is made
out.
The scattered population of this region is a
strange mixture, from different communities
and nationalities. They represent many States
of the Union, as well as England, Ireland,
France, and various parts of Germany.  For
the most part, they are by no means an elevated




14         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
class of people; but seem, rather, like stray
fragments of humanity, which, by some strange
combination of circumstances, have drifted to
these far-off shores of our country.
The season is too cold and short, and the soil
too unproductive, to make farming profitable;
so the people are occupied, for the most part,
with fishing. In more thriving communities,
some miles distant, lumbering is quite a business; while farther north-west is the  celebrated region of iron-mines.
At the time when our narrative begins,
Snail-Shell Harbor contained but one family;
and there were no neighbors nearer than two
miles in any direction; while all the families,
for ten miles distant, would scarcely have filled
a country schoolhouse.
The home of this solitary family was a long,
narrow, low, log-hut, in the innermost curve of
the harbor, and close to the water's edge. One
end was the dwelling, and the other was a store;




THE HARBOR.               15
for this was the commercial point for more
than twenty miles around.  An  additional
small shed near by, for the cow, made up the
buildings of the locality.
The head of the family, and the merchant,
was an odd and mysterious character. More
than fifty years of age, he had been known for
the last seven years in these parts as a Norwegian by birth: back of that his history was
wrapt in a mystery; and he was perfectly mute,
as to adding any information to the various
conjectures of his neighbors.  " Sandy " was
the only name he had reported for himself;
and by this he was known more familiarly than
any other man, for many miles distant.
Of about middling height, he was thick,
heavy-limbed, and square-built; his naturally
awkward movements being increased by the
use of a wooden stub, instead of a right leg,
which he had left behind him  somewhere in
his mysterious journey through life, no one




16        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
knew  where.  Some of the shrewder men
suggested, in a quiet way, that it might have
been lost in some piratical encounter, with which
they supposed his former life to have been connected.  His large head, bushy hair, full,
swarthy face; coarse features, made ruder by
continual contact with the worse sides of life;
and his large gray eyes, which never changed
in their cold, dark expression, - all gave him
an air quite in keeping with the  unhappy
suspicions concerning  the obscurity  of his
earlier years. Nor did his present life improve
men's opinions.  To the small but honorable
trade in groceries, dry-goods, and hardware,
demanded by this sparse community, he added
the horrible traffic of intoxicating drinks; for
which many spent more of the scanty supply
of money within their reach than for the real
wants of life. Sandy had no troubles of conscience. Sharp in a small sphere of trade,
humorous and even vulgar in conversation,




THE HARBOR.               17
obliging by nature and more so from policy, he
could barter in corn-meal and whiskey, gamble
and swear, all to the same purpose. To him,
sensual gratification and worldly gain were the
highest good. Beyond these, he never seemed
to think.
But the moral sentiment of his community
was so low, that men were not startled by his
immoralities; while certain marks of superior
power, which he showed, elevated him into respectability. Wholly uneducated, he could conduct his entire business without the aid of either
arithmetic or ledger. His command of a boat
was perfectly wonderful.  He seemed to be
on perfectly good terms with all the winds
and the waves.  No one ever knew him to be
afraid of a storm, or to have a mishap in any
emergency.
Some five years since, he had married an
Irish widow, with a young family of three
sons. Short, slender, straight, of fair com2




18         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
plexion, deep hazel eyes, and heavy, dark hair,
she wore a constant look of carefulness and
anxiety, not without certain marks of lingering disappointments. Her active, tidy habits, good English, and general taste, showed
that she had, at some time, come in contact with
the higher walks of life. She had seen happier days in times gone by, and was in many
respects by far Sandy's superior.  There was
much wonderment at her marrying the rude
stranger; but the miserable life and death of a
drunken husband, with three small children on
her hands, and nothing to support them, had
reduced her ambition to the bare necessities
of life.
Tom, Frank, and Harry was the order in
which the boys were known; and their ages
were, respectively, fourteen, twelve, and nine.
Harry, the youngest, was a babe of seven
months when  his father died  of deliriumtremens.  He was a bright child, overflowing




THE HARBOR.              19
with life and activity, and a genuine good
nature, - the star of the household.
What was there  here to give healthful
employment to these young hands, and train
sucl restless, growing minds into a fit sense
of life? Almost nothing,  even worse than
nothing.  Absolutely idle more than half the
time, and surrounded by the lowest influences,
how  much  of a true humanity could one
expect for them?




CHAPTER II.
Strangers are.Landed.
HE harbor, with the settlements ad<   joining, was in every respect a comuJni tmunity by itself. However thrilling, and profound the interests that might
stir the great world in general, they seldom
ever reached this remote corner of mankind.
No thoroughfare  disturbed  the quiet.  No
newspaper brought sensations.  The harbor
was the centre of trade and public affairs.
Here every face was known, and almost every
character. The appearance of a stranger was
a most uncommon occurrence, and excited the
deepest curiosity.
20




STRANGERS ARE LANDED.            21
It was early in spring.  The great sheets of
ice, over which men, horses, and oxen had
come and gone throughout the long winter,
had groaned and heaved, and broken into all
shapes and sizes, and drifted out slowly into
the great waste of waters beyond. The huge
drifts of snow upon the hills had reluctantly
melted away under the growing warmth of the
long cloudless days, and  rushed  down  the
sharp-cut ravines, chiming in with the song of
birds, and all the voices of spring, which echo
like the steps of summer in the distance. The
familiar boats of the different bays and nooks in
the vicinity had just begun to appear in the
harbor, when a strange-looking sloop was tied
to the wharf, and landed a company of strange
gentlemen, dressed in the latest cut of fashion,
and moving with all the airs of thorough and
extensive habits of business.
The whole family in the log-hut are on the
alert.  Sandy is all animation, and  thumps




22         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
about with his wooden leg even more briskly
than usual. Mrs. Sandy peers through the
small window of her humble apartment; and
the' boys go down to the wharf, and examine
the boat, and, coming back, scan the strangers
from head to foot. And they, in turn, examine
the coast, sound the harbor, and make excursions among the thick woodlands, which undulate in every direction from the shore; and form
their decision.
Snail-Shell Harbor is no longer to be the
quiet spot we have just been describing. A
new enterprise is afoot, which is to bring to
pass a thorough revolution. One of the large
iron-mines near Lake Superior is about to
smelt its ore in its own region; and, as they
find it easier to take the ore to the wood
than the wood to the ore, they will purchase
the immense tract of woodland in the vicinity,
and make the harbor the point of business.
Henceforth, it is to be one of the most ac



STRANGERS ARE LANDED.           23
tive communities in  all the region  round
about.
" A grand thing for you, sir.  The business
will start right up, and make a little fortune
for you," congratulated one of the gentlemen,
as he put a roll of greenbacks in Sandy's hand,
as a recognition of his special claim to this spot,
by way of pre-emption.
" Can't tell vat you big fish vill do wid us
little ones," replied Sandy, half in jest, and half
in earnest.
It was quite evident that he was not especially pleased with the prospect of becoming
second to other men in the domain of which
he had so long been king.
"You'll soon get out of the log-house, when
the money begins to pour in here," continued
the first speaker in a tone of flattery.
"Veree goode: ve'll see," added Sandy,
with an air of shrewd misgiving, notwithstanding the flattering prospects just alluded to.




24        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
"You shall have your share of business of
some kind," promised another gentleman of the
company, with an emphasis and air of candor
which were not unsatisfactory to Sandy, as he
cast off the moorings of the sloop from  the
wharf, by way of compliment to the gentlemen
going on board.
" Goode words. Time'ill show," he muttered
half aloud to himself, or to the boys, who, with
him, were watching the elegant little craft as
her white sails, finely filled, disappeared around
the point.




CHAPTER  III.
" rhe JVorthern Li;ght."
^y'N LYNLY six weeks had passed; but
great changes had been wrought in
and about the harbor.  The short,
^^^  thick growth of cedars and white
birch showed general signs of havoc. A long
dock had been constructed; several schooners
had landed large quantities of building-material; and houses and barns of the ruder class
had been built.  An immense smelting-stack
was going up; and coal-pits were beginning to
smoke on the sides of the high hill which overlooked the harbor. The whole region echoed
with the sound of axes and hammers. More
25




26         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
men were constantly coming; and new points
of work were starting every day.
It was a clear June morning.  The air was
cool, and so refreshing and invigorating, that
one involuntarily took  long, deep  breaths.
The sky was deep and cloudless; and the whole
lake sparkled like a sea of stars. Every thing
was particularly lively this morning; for to-day
was to be a new era in the community.  "The
Northern Lighlt," one of the finest steamboats on the lake, was expected every hour, to
bring large re-enforcements to the business.
In due time, the cloud of smoke, and the
large hull, appeared in the distance, among the
host of fishing-boats which displayed their
white sails against the horizon.  Great was the
excitement when the steam-whistle blew  at
the mouth of the harbor, and the large boat,
bristling with passengers, moved up with all
her dignity, and cast her moorings upon the
dock. Greater still was the surprise when the




"THE NORTHERN LIGHT."           27
cargo was opened up.  First in order came a
hundred horses, large, sleek, and of all colors.
"Big as elephants! Fat as seals! Do for a
show! Finer sight I never seed! " exclaimed
Sandy with emotion.
"See there!  cried one of the boys in
utmost curiosity, as trucks, wagons, and working-implements in many colors, and fresh from
the manufactories, were paraded upon the dock.
" What's that? " cried another, as an immense  steam-engine for the  smelting-stack
was pushed out from the steamer's broadside
with much difficulty, and with loud shouts from
the sailors.
" That's an iron horse!" said the captain,
who stood near, and stopped just long enough
to utter the words, between his stentorian
orders to the hands, who were covering the
dock with building-materials of various kinds.
An " iron horse " was something new to the
boys; and they were truly puzzled in trying to




28         SNAIL-SIIELL HARBOR.
find some point of resemblance between the
huge piece of machinery and a real horse.
Meanwhile the strangers had landed, and
were inquiring as to the various items of interest about the place.
" Great deal to see here," spoke Sandy, who
could appreciate all the points of interest in the
vicinity; and at once offered his service as
conductor-in-chief of the company.
He hobbled around in a perfect excitement.
His tongue, always glib and oily, was amazingly
eloquent; and he showed a degree of politeness
of which no one had ever before suspected
him capable.  He called the attention of the
company to the various nooks and haunts; and
they collected a whole cabinet of little curiosities, and carried off evergreens in abundance.
They thought Sandy himself, with his broad
Norwegian brogue and odd humor, as much an
object of curious interest as any thing the
locality afforded.




"THE NORTHERN LIGHT."            29
The cargo was landed; the passengers were
"all aboard;" and the steamer was moving
majestically out of the harbor, with the understanding, that, henceforth, she was to touch regularly once a week at this point, on her round
trip to the principal business-localities of the
lake-regions.




CHAPTER IV.
X    e Sacred Messenger.
N addition to the regular landing of, the steamer, schooners came occasionally; and steam-tugs belonging to the
company  plied  constantly between
the harbor and adjoining points connected with
its new business.
The great healthfulness of the northern
lake-regions, the beautiful and romantic scenery
which abounds on every hand, and the many
resources of amusement in hunting, fishing,
&c., bring many visitors from different parts of
our country to spend their summer months
here.  Green Bay, Escanaba, Negannee, and
Marquette are among the principal resorts, and
80




A SACRED MESSENGER.           31
are places of much interest.  Now that the
harbor was becoming known as a locality which
abounds in fine scenery, and a new and important point of business, many found their way
thither from the surrounding public resorts, on
tugs and scows, to spend a few hours in rowing,
fishing, or observing the rapidly-increasing
business of the iron company.
One morning late in June, when a few
fleecy clouds, transfigured by a clear sun,
gleamed like streaks of pearl on the pure azure
beyond; when great varieties of wild-flowers,
curious in forms and colors, began to peer in
beds of moss, to creep over rocks, and hang
from cliffs; and the harbor, smooth as a mirror,
reflected tree and rock and bluff and hill until
every surrounding object became double,there appeared in the harbor a solitary stranger,
of quite unusual and marked appearance. Evidently he was not altogether a man of business
nor of pleasure.  Plain and neat in dress,




32         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
young, pale, and delicate, contemplative rather
than demonstrative, he made a quiet visit, took
a full observation of the moral as well as the
business aspects of the place, and in a humble
way delivered a sacred message, the effect of
which was to be felt in after-years. For some
time, he had been fishing near the dock, from the
side of the tug which had brought him in. He
had seen the rush and commotion of business,
and heard the vulgarity and profanity of the
common conversation. From that logical association of ideas by which we receive a general
impression from but a partial view of principal
facts, he felt that this place was given over to
worldly gain, while God was wholly forgotten;
and, like Him who wept over the doomed city,
his heart was moved with compassion for the
souls about him.
Like his Master, "who went about doing
good," preaching the gospel even to the wicked
Samaritan woman at the well, he, with remark



A SACRED MESSENGER.           33
able skill, spoke of Jesus, and the way of life,
to every one he met. The steward on the tug,
the captain, and all the hands, had been set to
thinking by his quiet and timely suggestions.
Bad language had been quietly rebuked, and
the life hereafter had been solemnly referred to.
Sandy, while thumping around on the dock,
indulging his usual freedom in profanity, and
endeavoring to draw attention to his saloon
near by, had felt pricks of conscience, and a
sense of shame altogether new to him, while
listening to the strange accents of a purer
spirit, perhaps, than he had ever met before.
Leading employees of the company, and workmen of the lower class, had met the same
influence. Many new reflections were started;
and more than one felt a strange spiritual
hunger.
There was a pattering of bare feet upon the
dock. Harry, the youngest and most promising
member of Sandy's family, left free to go
8




34         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
and come when and where he pleased, was absent from the harbor when the tug came in;
and had just appeared to take his usual observation of the arrival. His face was fresh as a
rose washed out with dew.  Whatever were
his marks of poor breeding, he was evidently
gifted of nature with a bright mind and a
healthy body.  The stranger, who had just
drawn in a bass over the stern of the tug, was
the principal object of notice; and, with that instinct by which children so readily detect a
genial nature, Harry was unconsciously drawn
towards him. First, he sat down on a pile of
lumber on the edge of the dock: then he
leaned over against the side of the tug; and
finally climbed on board, and sat down close to
the stranger's elbow.
There had not been silence all this time. A
kindly and interesting conversation had magnetized and attracted Harry more than any
thing else. He was not naturally bold or ob



A SACRED MESSENGER.             35
trusive; but somehow he felt perfectly free, and
strangely happy, in the presence of tie new
visitor.
An expression, half of surprise, half of
confidence, beamed in his large, deep, blue eye,
as the stranger grasped his fat hand playfully.
"' Do you like me? " inquired the little fellow
somewhat seriously, after looking fairly into his
fiiend's face and eyes for several minutes.
" I like all little boys that are good," was the
reply, with a smile.  "I guess you're good, are
you not? "
That was a strange question to Harry, and
he could only laugh awkwardly in reply.
" Good boys don't use any bad words," continued the stranger.  "Don't play or work on
Sunday."
" Pa  swears,"  replied  the  little  fellow.
"And Tom and Frank."
" Oh, how sorry I am for them! " added the
gentleman, with an expression of sorrow, that




36         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
brought a grave, thoughtful look to every feature of the child's face.  "It is very wicked to
swear."
This was startling news to our little fiiend.
Oaths of every kind had been common to almost all conversation he had ever heard; and
he had never been taught that they were wicked. Nor had he ever learned any thing about
the Lord's day.  He had never heard "the
sound of the church-going bell;" and the voice
of prayer and praise, common to church and
Sunday school, and so many  family circles
throughout our land, he had never known.
To his life, all days of the week were alike, except that, on Sunday, the household drove a
larger trade in every article of exchange, liquors
not excepted: for there was not a church, or
Sunday school, or family altar, for many miles
around; and Sunday was the day to leave fishing and the farm, and go to the harbor to trade,
gossip, and drink. Nor had the new business




A SACRED MESSENGER.           37
wrought any marked change. The men it
brought there seemed all ungodly. If the Sabbath had any thing less of labor than other days
of the week, it had more of boat-riding, hunting,
and loafing.
"Do you know who made you? " inquired
the stranger, holding up the child's hand and
plump arm, half covered with a torn shirt-sleeve,
as the object of contemplation.
" Didn't I grow, like the trees and the flowers?"
" Yes, my dear, very much like the trees and
flowers; but who made them grow?"
The child looked puzzled. A  new query
was breaking upon him, which his untutored
mind was not able to answer.
" God made you," added the stranger, with a
solemn, earnest look.
"Who is God?"  questioned Harry, his
whole face radiant with inquiry. Times without number, he had heard the name of God tak



38         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
en in vain, and even himself had learned to repeat it in moments of passion; but never before
had he known it as the name of Him  who
made us.
"God is he who made the world, and all that
is in it," answered the stranger; " and the sun
and the moon and the stars."
"Where is he? " continued the child.
"He is in heaven; and though we cannot
see that place, or know where it is, we know
that, somehow, God is everywhere."
"Can he see us."
"He sees every thing.  He hears what we
say. He knows even our thoughts.  He sees
us in the darkness, as well as in the light."
Harry sat motionless and speechless, and
looked steadfastly into the face of the wonderful
messenger, his eyes dilating with earnestness,
and suffused with tears. Never was the word
of truth preached to a truer listener. There
was no cherishing of deep-seated, sinful habits,




A SACRED MESSENGER.           39
no sophistry of argument, or clouds of doubt;
nothing but that humble confidence and profound sincerity with which "a little child" recieves the kingdom of God.
The speaker felt that the Holy Spirit helped
both his hearer and himself, as he briefly related the account of the creation, showed forth
our sin and ruin, portrayed the life and death
of Christ, and explained the way of faith in
him, as the only salvation from "the worm
which never dieth, and the fire that is not
quenched."
The captain stepped on board, the whistle
blew, and the tug moved out of the harbor,
bearing away the mysterious stranger.
Harry stood on the dock, and watched the
tug till it turned the point and disappeared;
and then went his way, to ponder upon the
strange things he had heard.
A  deep impression had been made. The
seed had been sown in an honest heart. But




40         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
could any thing be hoped for, in the case of one
apparently so wholly separated from the influ.
ences necessary to the nurture of Christian
truth? one who could not read a word, did not
even know one letter from another, had never
seen a Bible or any other religious work, and,
until the present, had never met one who feared
God?  We shall see what God can do for those
whose hearts are open to receive him.




CHAPTER V..X?e, Place and a.J/euew Jame.
N  the region of our story, summer
and autumn  are not, as in many
other parts of our country, the crown
of the year.  The verdure of the
fields is not rich, and forest-leaves do not hang
in rank clusters of gorgeous greens.  But
flowers, the most benevolent part of all the
vegetable kingdom, and which love to smile
even in desert places, bloom  wild here in
abundance; and, to one from ordinary climates,
they are very rare and delicate. Following so
short and cool a summer, autumn is not very
41




42          SNAIL-,SHELL HARBOR.
fruitful; and the early frosts blast the hills
ere the  leaves  can  ripen  into  the  bright
antumn tints of the climes where the eye can
range through all shades of green, yellow,
scarlet, and purple.
In these parts, winter is worth all the rest
of the year.  The lakes become like seas of
glass. Heavy falls of dry, pure snow shroud
the  trees, overhang  the  rocks in  curious,
curling shapes, as if some skilful artist's hand
had  fashioned them  into  endless forms of
taste and beauty, and anon rise from hillsides
like  towns and  palaces of  purest marble.
Then, by some sudden freak, the Winter-King
mysteriously combines snow and rain, clothing
every rock, tree, and shrub, till, on some sunny
morning, one awakes to find nature perfectly
transfigured. All this gives an endless charm
to the long months of storm, not to speak of
sleigh-riding on streets of pure enamel, and
flying, on the wings of the wind, across broad
acres of transparent glass.




A NEW PLACE AND A NEW NAME.  43
But whatever the comparative interest of
the seasons, they had each, in turn, wrought a
great change at the harbor.  Only one year
had passed since the new business had been
located  here; and  yet a  stranger might
scarcely recognize the place. The smeltingstack, a huge pile of dark-colored buildings,
had been completed; and the flame of the
furnace was rolling up many feet above its
highest point. It stood fair in the middle of
the harbor and of the dock.  At the right
was a long line of coal-pits, built of brick, in
very much the shape of large haystacks, and
plastered over with white mortar. These were
constantly at work, making immense quantities
of wood into charcoal, to feed the great shaft
of flame in  the furnace.  And they were
aided by immense pits, which were kept constantly burning, several miles back  in  the
woods. Just beyond the pits, at the right of
the furnace, was a large lime-kiln; which made




44         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
great quantities of rock into lime, to supply
what is called a flux in melting the iron-ore.
The lime, put into the furnace with the ore,
makes the melted iron come out purer. Near
the kiln, a company of men were constantly
blasting the rock for its supply; and a general
alarm it was to the whole community, when
the report of the explosion echoed among the
hills and along the shore, like the firing of an
immense cannon, and great volleys of rock
splashed out into the harbor in every direction.
At the left of the furnace, and near the
dock, a large and elegant store had been built,
which, but for Sandy's many friends and
courteous business habits, would have been a
sad blow to his establishment; especially as
the sale of liquors, which had always been one
of the largest branches of his trade, was now
forbidden  by the company.  But what he
lacked in this respect was made up to him by
odd jobs of boating, which the new enterprise
of the place afforded.




A NEW PLACE AND A NEW NAME.  45
Near the extremity of the point, a large
and tasteful dwelling had been erected for the
general overseer employed by the company.
Along the elevation back of the store was a
line of smallish brown framed-houses, for the
better class of employees. On the west side
of the point, towards the sand-beach, was a
long row of log-houses, occupied hv the poorer
classes of workmen.
Thus, in one year, had a village of several
hundred inhabitants sprung  up; and, every
week, "The Northern Light" found several
hundred tons of pig-iron ready for the market.
This new place numbered a small circle of
quite respectable and ambitious citizens. In
addition to the general overseer, there was a
physician, and a number of clerks in the store,
as also a number of captains on  tugs, and
superintendents of the various departments of
the general business.
They hardly liked the old and vulgar name




46         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
of Snail-Shell Harbor, so they called the new
community "Ironville."  But either from  its
natural fitness, or from the force of habit, the
old name refused to give way to the new one.
While the designation of the post-office, and
the address of all items of mail was "Ironville," almost every one persisted in calling
the place, "Snail-Shell Harbor."




CHAPTER VI.
X Sunday at the rfarbor.
E have observed with interest the
outward aspects of our little village,
and its rapid growth in business.
But there is an inward character
to every community, which holds something
of the same relation to the external as that of
the soul to the body. This inner life no day
of the week so fully reveals as Sunday. Then
men feel comparatively free from those stern
necessities of life, which, on other days of the
week, compel them  to a wholesome industry.
Thus the day so much needed for rest and
devotion is turned by the wicked into  an
occasion of idleness and temptation.
47




48         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
For a better acquaintance with the harbor,
let us spend a Sunday there; and, to get the
best point of view, we will enter the residence
of Dr. Sprague, who occupies one  of the
smallish brown houses before referred to.  We
shall easily distinguish it from the rest in that
long row; for it has a white porch in front, by
which any child in the village can point it out.
Only two - the doctor and his wife- make
up the regular family. But, at present, Miss
Elliot, his wifvs sister, is a transient member of
the household. She has just arrived to spend a
few weeks, partly for a visit, and partly for her
health.
The doctor is an eccentric man.  Tall,
slender, straight, blue-eyed, well sun-burnt,
his brown hair, and thin dark whiskers slightly
sprinkled with gray, he is free and easy in his
manner, and quite talkative. You will feel at
home; for he will not awe you with  his
dignity, and he is remarkably kind and social.




A SUNDAY AT THE IHARBOR.         49
You will not be afraid to speak lest your words
should be criticised; for he talks as carelessly
and jocosely as a school-boy, and makes you
feel that you ought to do the same. In no
part of his house will you be conscious of any
restraint. You will be as free in the diningroom, or in the kitchen, as in the parlor. In
short, you will be perfectly free to do as you
please; and the doctor will do every thing in
his power to accommodate you.
His wife is a short, plump, tidy woman, with
a kindly face and of few words; keeping every
thing in its place, and making the entire household machinery move on without the least jar
or friction.
Miss Elliot is a small, fair, light-haired,
dark-eyed, delicate  young  lady  of about
twenty-three.  Her well-trained intellect, and
sensitive, poetic nature, make her keenly alive
to all the romance and beauty of the harbor;
but her taste and piety are constant martyrs
4




50         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
to the rudeness and vice by which she is surrounded.
"How quiet every thing is this morning! "
she remarked, as she sat by the open window,
and looked up and down the street, and towards
the store and the dock, without seeing a single
person astir.
It was a calm, clear morning. Scarcely the
rustle of a leaf, or the note of a bird, broke the
stillness.
" The Paddies spreed so hard and so late
last night, that they havn't got around yet this
morning," added the doctor.  " Didn't you
hear the music over on Shanty Street? They
kept me awake till after midnight. Like all
communities of a low moral tone, the people
here are excessively  given  to amusement.
Among them are a few third or fuurilt rate
players of the violin; and  they generally
manage to start a dance and carousal every
Saturday night, which lasts well on towards the




A SUNDAY AT THE HARBOR.         51
morning.  Then  the Sabbath is a day of
drowsiness and satiety.
"Neither  school, nor  schoolhouse, nor
church, nor public worship!" continued Miss
Elliot in a tone of sympathy and regret. " In
the absence of all these nobler influences, so
absolutely necessary to enlighten and stimulate
the conscience of even the best communities,
what is to become of this collection of human
beings, so low in the moral scale? Men have
no fear of God before their eyes, and children
are growing up in ignorance and vice."
" A bad state of things, truly," admitted the
doctor; "but I can scarcely see any prospect
for any thing better. All real estate is in the
hands of the company. Residents regard themselves as but transient, and are slow to invest
in any public matter. If any thing is done
towards accommodations for intellectual or
moral improvement, it must be by the company.  But in such matters they have no




52         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
interest.   They  are wealthy merchants in
Eastern cities, and  see nothing  in  human
beings but a machinery to make money.  To
this end every thing is arranged.  The bone
and  muscle of every man is taxed to  the
utmost. Through high rents for houses, enormous profits on goods out of the store, and
various other channels, as much as possible of
the wages paid out is brought back again into
the original fund."
As the sun rose higher, children began to
appear about the premises.  By and by men
sauntered  out, gathered  in  little  knots to
smoke their tobacco, tell vulgar stories, and
discuss the various items of town-gossip. A
closer observation showed that some were at
work. As the day wore away, others returned
from fishing and hunting excursions. And the
great shaft of the furnace rolled up its flame
all day long, just as on other days of the week.
ThA day was drawing to a close, and the




A SUNDAY AT THE HARBOR.         53
doctor's family had just sat down to tea, when
there was an uncommonly loud rap at the door.
"Tell the doctor to come quick! A man
over here is most killed," cried a large Irishman, who stood at the door puffing and panting, as the servant hurriedly opened it.
As quickly as possible, the doctor was under
way, followed by nearly all the men and boys
in the village, who rushed with all speed to
see what had happened.
Near the sand-beach, and just outside of the
jurisdiction of the company, was a liquor shop,
which had sprung up to occupy the field
vacated by Sandy.  This new  man in the
business was greatly annoyed by trading-boats,
which began to be attracted by the growth of
the community, and which invariably carried
a sufficient supply of liquors along with their
dry-goods and groceries. He was determined
to contest his ground. So there was a constant warfare between him  and every boat



54        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
merchant who  landed  within  his  reach,
To-day he had met one of these fellow-competitors with special abuse.  He had gone
down to the shore and warned him off, in language by no means polite. A sharp altercation
followed, thoroughly  seasoned  with  blackguardism and oaths, and ended by the boatman thrusting a pike into the side of his
antagonist, wounding him badly and breaking
several of his ribs.
The commotion had somewhat subsided, and
the doctor, having done what he could for his
patient, had returned home.
"A  pretty hard community this! " he exclaimed with a decided emphasis, after relating
to the household the particulars of the late
occurrence.  "Very few decent men come
here."
"I thought the company had forbidden the
sale of liquors here? " suggested Miss Elliot.
" So they have," added the doctor. "Not




A SUNDAY AT THE HARBOR.          55
for any moral purpose, however, - purely for
economy. But it is a practical failure.  The
great body of the men still drink.  They
manage to get it somehow.  Boats land slily
in the night, and supply a regular class of
customers; and old topers smuggle it from
adjoining markets. There's plenty of it here,
that's certain; and men carry the most barbarous marks in consequence.  Some one has a
piece of an ear bit off, or the first joint of a
finger. Another has a rib or two broken, or
even an eye knocked out. I'm not religious
myself; but if any preacher could be found,
who could scare these rascals half out of their
wits, and make them  lead a better life, I
would hold up both hands for him."
Miss Elliot smiled at the doctor's crude
idea of the nature of morality, and of the
result to be expected from religious teaching.
" Very few become good by scaring," she
added modestly. " The grace of God is what




66         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
they need. The question is, Are we doing
what we can to invite them to it? "
" I attend to their bodies.  That is enough
for one man: about all I can do."
The  doctor spoke  good-humoredly, but
twitched around in his chair, as if a thorn had
pricked him somewhere.
" To attend to the bodies of men is, indeed, a
great work, and a great responsibility," added
Miss Elliot seriously; "but the body is only
a lesser part of human beings. Why repair
the house, while you care not for the immortal
man who lives within it? No one can help the
soul so readily as he who helps the body. No
one ever cared so tenderly for man's physical
wants as Christ. But he did not stop there.
Through the body he reached the soul."
This was eloquent preaching.  The doctor
felt the force of it, and skilfully turned the
conversation.
The long, cloudless day had been followed




A SUNDAY AT THE HARBOR.         57
by a gorgeous sunset, shading the clear sky
into every tint of crimson, violet, and purple.
Twilight had deepened into darkness, and the
sounds of day-life had died out of the village
streets.
Thus  passed a Sabbath at the  harbor.
Surely, it is no pleasing picture: and yet it is
true to life, - nor merely to that of this community, but of many others in the less favored
parts of our land.
But when one describes the frivolities and
crimes of a people, only the outside can be
painted.  In the more secluded and inward
parts of their life are deeds of darkness and
of shame which cannot be put on paper, and
of which one would blush even to speak.
Such, we have every reason to believe, were
not uncommon at the harbor.
4O^^^^




CHAPTER VII.
X Glimpse at Sandy's Fireside.
(~1) L   HE  harbor was crowded  to its
utmost capacity.  The business was
/j]) rapidly  extending, and  constantly
called for new  recruits, in  every
department of labor. Now an engineer was
wanted, now a collier, or a captain for an
additional tug, or twenty or thirty new hands.
And, as direct business paid the company
better than the mere providing of accomodations, the entire community was pressed into
the smallest possible space.
Until very recently, there had been no regularly announced hotel.  All the village kept
58




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  59
boarding-house, and gave meals at all hours.
But Sandy, whose eye was always keen to
detect a new point of business in a small way,
thought he saw a want of the times, and- put
out a sign,-" House for strangers, visitors,
and new-comers."  It would command general attention; for it was perched  on the
house-top, fairly opposite the dock, and painted
on a white background, in large, black letters,
traced by the owner's inexperienced hand, and
fully betraying his want of skill.
However the various new-comers, landed
each week by "The Northern Light," might
differ in detail, there was one grand characteristic of them  all.  They were rough and
wicked. A man of refined feeling and tender
Christian  sympathy  would  have  been  a
speckled bird amidst the flock.
But to-day a gentleman had landed, whose
humane features and kindly expression had
attracted the attention of every child on the




60         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
wharf, and many besides.  He turned out to
be the new engineer, expected for some time,
and, of course, put up at Sandy's.
We will look in upon him during the evening, for it will give us a glimpse at Sandy's
fire-side, and show us the inner life of that
queer log-house; the oldest building in  the
village.  We shall do it at the better advantage, too, since Sandy's mercantile business is
" closed out," and he, devoting all his attention as landlord, may spend his evening at
home.
The inside of the house is as odd as the outside. The first and main floor, excepting the
part formerly occupied as a store, is all in one
long, narrow room.  This is at once kitchen,
dining-room, saloon, parlor, and sleeping-room.
It is low, and poorly lighted. The entrance is
at the side. At one end is a bed, at the other
an immense open fire-place. Long rows of chests
and boxes stand in orderly arrangement along




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  61
the sides. Several stout blocks, sawed off at
sufficient length to make seats, stand about the
chimney-corners.   There is a large, square
table with cross-legs, and a few home-made
chairs. This about completes the furniture.
But, even in a home so rude as this, there
are families, who, independent of the elegancies
and wealth of the world, could drink constantly from the deepest fountains of domestic
joy. Not so with Sandy's household.  He
himself, indeed, was never without a certain
happiness; but it was only the happiness of
the brute, which means to eat and drink and
sleep. Mrs. Sandy was a careworn, brokenspirited woman, who bore her trials as a necessity, and filled up the insipid days of life with
many and excessive labors.  The boys had
that pleasure which  comes to young  and
healthy bodies in a free, outdoor life.  Of
higher interests and tender home affections,
they knew nothing.




62         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
"'Spose you're used to a great dale more
and better than this," apologized Mrs. Sandy,
very politely to the new-comer, as she arranged
him, with her family, around the table loaded
down with good cheer, and made still more
cheerful by the large fire which blazed on the
hearth, and which may be necessary, in this
climate, even in midsummer.
"No fear, madam," kindly rejoined  the
gentleman.  "Every thing is as neat as a
new pin, and I am really hungry.  This cool
day has been better to me than a dose of
stomach-bitters."
Surely, with a good stomach, there was no
need of misgivings; for the table contained a
breakfast, dinner, and supper all together.
Mrs. Sandy seemed to have put on every thing
that could be thought of, without the least
regard to formality.  This was in part from
her natural generosity, and in part from a
feeling of reverence for the stranger which
she could not explain.








Ai~k
"Boys, I hope you will never smoke."-Page 63.




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.   63
About every human being there is a certain
moral atmosphere, of which even a stranger,
if he be observing, is conscious at the first
contact.
"I never has trouble'bout eatin'," grunted
Sandy in his peculiar rough, half-gutteral t ne
of voice.
Certainly not. To this his broad shoulders
bore ample testimony, as well as his manner
of eating, which made the stranger think of a
people mentioned by the great apostle, " whose
God was their belly."
" Dubaccy, ell? " suggested Sandy, offering
his guest an outfit for smoking, as they seated
themselves at the fireside after supper.
"I never use tobacco. Don't believe in it,"
returned the stranger.
"Fine! fine!" added Sandy, as he rolled
out the smoke most lustily.
"Boys, I hope you will never smoke,"
urged the stranger with great earnestness, as




64        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
he turned to the lads who sat listening, as if
intent on every word.
The boys were far from fulness of conviction on the subject; but they never forgot that
earnest look.
Supper was over, and every thing cleared
up. So Mrs. Sandy took her knitting, and
seated herself on one of the blocks near the
chimney-corner, thus completing the circle
about the fireside.
"Now I must tell you who I am and where
I am from," said the stranger; "and then I
must talk about something better. My name
is Henry Williams. I am  from  Cleveland,
Ohio."
"Vat betther?   Ah, ha, ha!" laughed
out Sandy humorously, whose curiosity had
been piqued by the double promise, and was
especially anxious to know the better part.
"The better part is this," continued Mr.
Williams: "I have a wife and two little




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  65
children, whom  I want to have under the
influence of the precious gospel.  But about
this better part I am in trouble. You have
here no church, no Sunday school, no prayermeeting, no religious influence whatever."
" Dat's all not vorth a fish-scale! " declared
Sandy, striking his fist upon his knee for
emphasis.
"Don't you feel the need of Jesus Christ,
Sandy?" urged Mr. Williams solemnly.
"Never! Misther Villyoms.  I vas saint
before you vas horned, an' vill be ven you are
hangt.   Ha, ha! ha, ha! " shouted  the
hardened old man, as if feeling that he had put
an end to all questioning on that score, as far as
he was concerned.
Not that his conscience was free from reproach. This was his method of warding off
conviction. He knew that he was a sinner.
So do even the heathen.
5




66         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Mr. Williams went on to speak with sinceri
ty and earnestness.
" The Bible, the book of God, says we are
all sinners, and that, as such, we can never be
at peace. Surely the lives of men prove this.
They are like the restless ocean, like the
troubled sea that casts up  mire and  dirt.
What horrible crimes do men commit! Can
any shameful deed be yet thought of that men
have not done?  One wonders the sun does
not blush to shine on a world so wicked!
How few men can be called good in any sense!
and, if the best of them were placed in the
pure light of God's presence, how  spotted
they  would be!  Every  man's  conscience
blames him; and, without Christ, who is not
afraid to die? You are troubled, Sandy, when
you meet death face to face! "
" I tries to run from him," confessed Sandy.
" Don't know but the Devil'ill git me."
A  short pause had followed Mr. Williams's




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  67
direct appeal, and a sharp, awful look, that went
through the old man. His conscience answered
before lie had time to equivocate.
" You see the word of God is right," continued Mr. Williams.  " If there were no
Christ, our case would be desperate.  We
should be all shut up to everlasting condemnation. But Christ, the Son of God, has pitied
us. I-e came to the world; became a babe,
a child, a man; lived among all kinds of men,
healed the sick, comforted the sorrowing, took
little children in his arms and blessed them,
and  raised  the dead; labored, hungered,
thirsted, and wept; and then gave his body to
be beaten and torn, and died hanging on a
cross. Men took him down, and put him in a
tomb; but he rose again, and has ascended to
heaven. There he hears our prayers, and is
ready to help all who come to him. He calls
every one. To the poor he says, Roll your
burdens on me. They are heavy, and you are




68         SNAIL-SIELL HARBOR.
too weak to carry them. I will carry them
for you. Trust in me every day, and ask me
for all you need. Don't be afraid. See how I
clothe the flowers and feed the birds! You are
worth more to me than they. To the wicked
he says, Leave off your sins.   They are
sinking you down and making you wretched.
They give you all your trouble.  Do they
hang to you, so that you cannot shake them
off? Do they stick into your very heart, and
poison all your thoughts?  Come to me. I
will save you from your sins. They who come
to Christ have nothing to fear. He will make
all things work for their good; and, when their
bodies fail, he will take them to a world that
is better than this, — one where men never
sin, never suffer, never die! "
These words broke like a wonderful revelation upon the little audience. It was so much
more of the gospel than they had ever heard
before. And, though they saw but part of its




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  69
excellence, it sounded like "glad tidings," too
good to be believed. But truth always carries
conviction and gains confidence.
When the words ended, Sandy was gazin
intently into the fire, with a solemn, earnest
look that seemed strange on his hard, cold
face.  He said nothing, and for some time
continued motionless as a statue.
Mrs. Sandy was evidently struggling with
emotion, as she pressed her lips together, and
wiped away a large tear with the corner of her
apron. The message was to her like bread to
the hungry, and cold water to a thirsty soul.
What a tasteless thing life had been to her!
How  she had dragged  herself through  its
various rounds, with no object beyond to touch
the heart with gladness and hope, and thus
quicken the pulses of the soul, but as if driven
by some stern and mysterious necessity! Could
this message be a morning star on her dark
horizon, the harbinger of better days? Certain




70         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
it was that it had a strange power over her
heart, which quickened all her inward longings.
It was that same power that swept like a
magnet through  a great throng  of human
hearts, when the Son  of man was on the
earth; which led poor, suffering, soul-famishing
women to press their weary way through the
crowd, longing to touch but the fringe of his
garment, begging for only the crumbs that fell
from the children's table, washing his feet with
their tears, and wiping them with the hairs of
their head.
The boys sat erect and motionless, and their
young faces were full of thought.  Harry, the
youngest, was more affected than the rest.
To him the subject was not so new as to his
brothers. He had never forgotten the mysterious stranger, who had made a quiet call at
the harbor at the time of the beginning of
the new business.  That stranger had left the
greatest possible impression upon his young




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S. FIRESIDE.  71
mind.  The child remembered every feature
of his face, the clothes he wore, the tone of his
voice, and almost every idea he had uttered.
There had not been a day since, in which he
had not thought of the  great truths he
there heard. He had thought of God as everywhere present, to behold the evil and the good,
and as knowing the inmost thoughts of his
heart. As to the nature of his heart and life,
he had had true spiritual conviction, and had
felt the heavy weight of guilt.  Amid his
childish sports of the daytime, his reflections
would be scattered, and he would laugh and
play as merrily as any boy or girl in the
village, for never was a child more brimful of
life and cheerful good-nature; but when in
solitude, or the shadows of night would come
on, his thoughtfulness would return, stirring
all tho'se musings, and tender yearnings, and
dark, shadowy fears, which more than one
young'heart has secretly carried about, while




72         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
parents and friends saw nothing but thoughtlessness and play. Some nights he had lain
awake till a late hour, when the house was so
still that he could hear nothing but the beating
of his heart. Then he would try to measure
eternity, adding life-time to life-time till his
comprehension was bewildered, and reflecting
upon the wretchedness of that place, "where
their worm  dieth not, and  the fire is not
quenched."  He would review the deeds of
the past day: wonder if he should die before
morning; and then, turning around the pillow,
wet with his tears and hot from his fevered
cheek, would fall asleep wearied out with his
reflections.
Mr. Williams was deeply interested; and by
that strange power of one heart upon another
by which we are made conscious of the feelings
of those around us, even when they do not
speak, or by that fitness of things which the
indwelling Spirit of God is ever wont to




A GLIMPSE A  S.VDY'S FIRESIDE.   73
suggest, lie saw that there and tlien was a field
of labor.
" It is getting late; and I am very tired from
travelling, and must soon go to bed," said he.
"Would you like for me to read and pray with
you? " he inquired, drawing a small Bible from
his pocket.
"Surely,"  said  Mrs. Sandy  with  much
interest. " It's high time we had the likes o'
that in this house."
" Guess it vont hur-r-t any one," added
Sandy as indifferently  as possible, moving
about with evident uneasiness upon his block,
and hitching his wooden leg upon his other
knee, as if trying to be perfectly composed.
Mr. Williams read without the least formality. Instead of reading a chapter through,
he made selections of such parts as he thought
most appropriate.
First he turned to the 139th Psalm, —
"' O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known




74         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
me. Thou knowest my down-sitting and mine
up-rising; thou understandest my thought afar
off. Thou compassest my path and my lying
down, and art acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo,
0  Lord, thou knowest it altogether.  Thou
hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine
hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me: it is high, I cannot attain unto
it. Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? or
whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I
ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I
make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell
in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there
shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand
shall hold me. If I say, surely the darkness
shall cover me, even the night shall be light
about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from
thee; but the night shineth as the day: the
darkness and the light are both alike to thee.




A GLIMPSE AT SANDY'S FIRESIDE.  75... How  precious, also, are thy thoughts
unto me, O God! How great is the sum of
them! If I should count them, they are more
in number than the sand: when I awake, I am
still with thee."
Then he recited from elsewhere,- " There
is none righteous, no, not one. They are all
gone out of the way; they are together
become unprofitable. There is none that doeth
good, -all have sinned and come short of the
glory of God."   " Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom  of God.
That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and
that which is born of the Spirit is spirit."
" He that cometh unto me I will in no wise
cast out."  "The Spirit and the Bride say,
Come. And let him that heareth say, Come.
And let him  that is a-thirst come; and
whosoever will, let him take the water of life
freely."
A  short, tender, earnest prayer followed.




76         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
The family seemed a little confused as Mr.
Williams began to kneel down.  They had
never seen any thing of the kind before. But
Mrs. Sandy's impulse was in the right direction.  She followed Mr. Williams, and, for the
first time in her life, bowed before God. The
children followed her example; and Sandy
stood up before the fireplace, leaning forward
against the mantel.
The evening was spent, and all retired.
Before Mr. Williams could sleep, he had many
reflections; but scarcely more than had each
member of the family, who had heard such
new  and strange things, in the gospel so
simply, so faithfully preached.
Cii    0k 




CHAPTER VIII..a Sad Catastrophe.
O45     R. SPRAGUE  was an  early
riser.  It was seldom the sun found
I him  in bed.  His business, indeed,
was not so pressing as to call him up
at so early an hour; but he had a deep-seated
conviction that perfect health needed the freshness and vigor of the first of the morning.
So he was accustomed to be out before any one
else in the village, excepting Sandy. Sometimes he would stroll; sometimes, in summer,
he would take a bath in the lake; and sometimes he would ride out on horseback.
He had just risen one morning, and the
gray light which streaked the horizon  had
77




78         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
scarcely brightened into day, when, looking
out of the window, he saw  Sandy hobbling
towards the door with his utmost speed.
Knowing that something uncommon was the
matter, he hastened  and opened  the door
before he reached it.
" What in the world is the matter, Sandy?"
he exclaimed.
" Matter'nough.  Hurry! Come!" cried
Sandy, halting suddenly, and beckoning most
earnestly for the doctor to follow him.
" Is any one dead?" inquired the doctor, as
he sprung to the side of the excited man, and
they both hurried away, Sandy leading towards
the dock.
" Yes, - woman dead, - drowned, I s'pose."
" Where? "
" Over here. I'll show."
In a few moments, they were in the boat;
and Sandy pulled over to the side of the
harbor formed by the main land, —the high




A SAD CATASTROPHE.           79
wall that rose perpendicularly  out of the
water.
Here a terrible sight met them. A woman
lay in the shallow water upon the rocks, mangled, bleeding, and torn.  She had evidently
committed suicide, - had jumped the enormous
distance from the heights above, full a hundred
and fifty feet.
The doctor and Sandy had met some one
on their way to the boat; and enough of the
conversation had been overheard to awaken a
a very intense suspicion. At once the news
spread, and in a few minutes the whole village
was roused.  Men hurried from  every  direction.   Children  ran  half-dressed, and
women were out, pale with excitement. By
the time the doctor and Sandy returned, nearly
the whole town was on the dock. They could
scarcely get ashore, so eagerly did the whole
crowd press upon them to catch a little further
information as to the catastrophe. It was with




80         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
the utmost difficulty that the doctor and Mr.
Alton, who was the general superintendent of
the business of the place, restrained them from
cramming the boat, and pushing across to the
place of the disaster.
As soon as possible, the legal steps were taken
to bring the corpse to the shore.
A number in the crowd at once recognized
the face, all bruised and bleeding; but, to the
greater part, it was that of an utter stranger.
"Katie!"  "Katie  O'Donnel!"   "Poor
Katie! " called out one and another of the
women, in surprise and pity.
" Who is she? " inquired the doctor, laying
hold of a simple-hearted Irish woman who
seemed to know  the  person, and who, he
thought, could tell him a straight story.
"Katie O'Donnel, your honor, sar," she
replied, "a stranger, - a poor gairl, - not in
town quite two weeks."
" Worked at John Foltenheimer's the first:




A SAD CA TASTROPHE.           81
did stale something, and was turned away,"
added  another tall daughter of Erin  unofficially.
" She was at Pat Sharky's, last, - God bless
her, - poor  soul! "  interrupted  a  third.
"Shame on any one to turn a poor gairl out o'
the house! Say what she's come to now!"
A few expressions like these, passing from
lip to lip, quickly inflamed the crowd; and,
before any adequate information could be gathered, some had almost come to blows.
John Foltenheimer, who was said to have
turned the unfortunate woman out of doors,
could scarcely get away with his life; and the
doctor hastened the body away to its last place
of residence, where it was to be kept till
buried.
The case was decided to be one of suicide;
and the facts, as nearly as could be ascertained,
were as follows: The unhappy woman had
come from Chicago a few weeks before, with a
6




82         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
very disreputable character, seeking employ.
ment as a common house-servant.  John Foltenheimer, who boarded a number of the hands
in different departments of the business, had
employed her; and, after a few days, she was
found to have stolen a satchel from some one
of the household, and was forthwith dismissed.
After that, she had wandered around at several
different places, a general victim of crime and
suspicion.  For some days previous to  the
present discovery, she had not been seen by
any one; and, probably, under the terrible
depression  of guilt and wretchedness, had
taken her own life by throwing herself down
from the highest point of the bluff.
One might reasonably expect that so terrible
an ending of human life, such fearful results
from sin and degradation, would awe the entire
community, put a check on vice of every kind,
and beget the most solemn moral and religious
reflection. But it was surprising to see how




A SAD CATASTROPHE.           83
slight and temporary was the entire effect.
For the most part, only a cold, heartless curiosity was excited, enough to furnish a pretty
thorough-going town gossip, and break in upon
the general monotony of life. There was a
great deal of speculation as to the amount of
guilt resting upon  John Foltenheimer, and
upon, various other personages supposed to be
more or less connected with the affair; as also
concerning the manner in which the funeral
should be gotten up; but few reflected upon
their own moral condition, or their own mortality. Men even mixed in their oaths as usual,
while discussing different points of the new
topic.
The funeral was the first in the community,
and was highly characteristic  of the place.
The coffin was a mere rude pine box, nailed
together without planing or coloring.  The'
matted locks were scarcely combed out, and
there was no other shroud than the garments




84         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
in which the body had first been found.  There
was no hymn sung, no prayer, no burial-service whatever.  Back in the woods, several
miles from the harbor, the body was borne on
a common  truck, and buried, with  a rude
mound to mark the spot, and a stake driven
down at the head instead of a tombstone.
Such was the amount of respect shown to
our common humanity! Such the measure of
sympathy and reflection drawn forth by this
awful calamity!
But there was a very small number of
humane, tender souls, amid the reckless, unreflecting mass, who, though they might not
interfere with the general management of the
matter, recalled the tender musings of an
English poet, -
"Who was her father? who was her mother?
Had she a sister? had she a brother? "




A SAD CATASTROPHE.         85
And with these words sprang up a world of
thought and sympathy, which cannot be drawn
out upon paper, which cannot be coined into
words. And there were young hearts that felt,
and young eyes that wept, at this first sight of
death and the grave.




CHAPTER IX.
XA Hrap.py discovery.
R. WILLIAMS was fully installed as chief engineer at the
- harbor, and as speedily as possible
was becoming settled.  He had
rented a house, had fitted it up, and was
expecting his wife and three little children by
the next trip  of "The  Northern  Light."
Meanwhile, his home was at Sandy's.
It was near the close of the first day after
the funeral; and, from the uncongenial society
of the place, the recent catastrophe, and the
absence of his family, he was feeling quite sad
and lonely. As he went out of the house, after
his evening  meal, he wandered  round  the
86




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.            87
beach to the farthest part of the point. Here
he was quite out of sight of the village.
Behind him, and away to his right, was the
shore, -a great bed of limestone, broken into
all shapes and sizes, now level like a rude highway, and now rising abruptly like an irregular
wall.  Beyond this was the forest, of meagre
growth, and of a cold, dark green. Directly
before him, and away to the left as far as the
eye could reach, was the lake, its waters stirred
by a fresh evening breeze, and breaking in
gentle waves at his feet.  The sun was just
touching the horizon, and, like a great orb of
flame, seemed about to dip into the distant
waters. It cast a stream of light across the
lake, which grew more intense in the distance,
like the path of the just, that shineth more and
more unto the perfect day. Clouds, transfigured into golden, crimson, and purple light,
rose about the setting sun like the gates of
Paradise.




88         SNAIL-SIELL HARBOR.
Mr. Williams had an eye for the beautiful in
nature, and a heart that responded in sublime
and tender meditations.  He seated himself
upon a rock, and gazed devoutly upon the
scene before him.
Presently he was startled with the sound of
footsteps upon the loose stones of the shore.
On looking up, he saw Harry, who untaught
in the nicer points of good manners, and overborne by an ardent desire to open the secret of
his heart to one whom, he somehow felt, would
sympathize with him, had hesitatingly followed
him to his retreat.
The child halted a moment when he met
Mr. Williams's eye, and seemed quite confused,
as if not knowing how to account for himself.
But there was something in his look, half of
bashfulness, half of longing, that set Mr. Williams on the right track.
"Come here, Harry, my boy," said he with
a smile, and stretching out his hand towards
him: " come, sit down by me on this rock."




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.            89
Very modestly, Harry took his seat by Mr.
Williams without saying a word.
"Did you want to speak to me about something, Harry? " he asked very kindly.
Harry made no reply; but the tremor of his
lip, and the bright tear in his eye, were more
eloquent to Mr. Williams than words.
"Is there a burden  on  your heart, my
boy? " he continued, full well convinced as to
the child's trouble.
Harry's heart overflowed. Turning his face
away, he wept with that free outgushing of
sorrow which only a child knows.
Mr. Williams's sympathies were thoroughly
roused. Throwing his arms around Harry, he
wept with him.
"I think I know your trouble, Harry,"
said Mr. Williams, when his feelings had so
subsided that he could speak.  " There is a
great weight on your heart.  You feel that
your heart is wicked; that your life has been




90         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
wicked; that, unless you are somehow made
better, you cannot live happily, nor die in
peace. Isn't that it?"
Harry nodded his head in assent, accompanying it with one of those hearty sobs common
to children after hard weeping. Mr. Williams
had stated the matter more clearly than it had
been defined in Harry's thoughts, but, somehow, the words suited his feelings.
As soon as Harry was calm enough, he told
Mr. Williams how his religious interest first
began: how he had met a stranger at the dock,
who had told him about Jesus, and our need
of him; how he had thought of it ever since.
" I try hard, but I can't git good," said the
child artlessly.  " When I go to bed in the
night, I think how bad I have been all day.
That makes me cry, and promise God to do
right all day if he'll give me one day more.
But, the next night, I find I am as bad as ever.
So I haven't been good yet. Sometimes I feel




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.           91
so wicked, I almost wish there wasn't any
God, - that we could get along just as well
without him. But then we can't, and I'm bad
to think of it."
"No, no, Harry: we can't do without God.
He is our best friend," said Mr. Williams
very earnestly. "There, do you know what
that means?" he continued, holding Harry's
thumb on his little fat wrist. " That's from the
beating of your heart, which keeps you alive.
God makes your heart beat every time. He
gives you every breath."
" Ie made me, - the man told me," added
Harry, referring to the stranger who had first
instructed him in these things.
" Yes; and he keeps us alive every minute.
He puts the color on your cheek, and the
brightness in your eye.  If it were not for
him, that sun would never rise again," said
Mr. Williams, pointing to the gorgeous clouds
which closed about the place of sunset. " And




92        SNAIL-SHELL HIARBOR.
he has given his only Son to die for us, that he
might take away all our sin, and give us new
hearts, so that we can do right."
"Tell me about it," urged Harry, who was
eager to hear the story over, which the stranger
had told him long before.
"The Son of God came down to this world,
more than eighteen hundred years ago, and
became a little babe. He was not born in a
great and beautiful house, but in a stable, and
was put in a manger for a cradle, for his
parents were poor. He grew  up like other
little boys around him, and, no doubt, played
with them; but he must have been a great
deal better than any other little child, for he
never sinned in all his life. Wouldn't you
like to have been one of the little boys that
played with him, so as to have had him for
your friend?"
Harry nodded his head with much interest.
" As he was poor," continued Mr. Williams,




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.           93'he worked for a living. Was a carpenter,
and, no doubt, did many a hard day's work.
When  he was about thirty  years old, the
heavenly Father called him from his business,
and he went about doing good. Great crowds
of people gathered  about him  everywhere,
and followed him from place to place, bringing
their sick and their dying friends to be blessed
by him.  As he was the Son of God, and
had all power, he put his fingers on the eyes
of the blind and made them see. He took sick
people by the hand, and raised them from their
beds, and they were cured: even the dead he
raised to life again, by simply speaking to
them; while poor, weak women only touched
his clothes and were made well.  One time
they  brought little  children  to  him, and
he took  them  in his  arms  and  blessed
them.  By and by, wicked men put him to
death.  They took him  in the night, while
he was out in the field praying. They took




94        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
off his clothes from his back, and whipped
him with a great whip of many lashes, each
lash having a piece of bone or iron fastened to
the end, so that it might sink into his flesh.
They whipped him till his back was all torn
and bleeding: then they tied sharp thorns
around his head, so that they pressed into his
forehead and temples; and they mocked him,
spit in his face, and struck him on the cheek
with their hands. Putting upon his back, all
bleeding and torn, a heavy cross of wood, -
heavy enough for a well, strong man to carry,
- they led him away to put him to death, a
great crowd of wicked people following after,
and crying out,' Away with him! Let him be
killed!'  They came to a terrible place!
one where the wickedest people in all the
country were put to de.ath, by being nailed to
a wooden cross, and left hanging in the scorch.
ing sun by day and the damp cold of night,
till they perished, or some beast devoured




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.           95
them.  Here they drove great nails through
the hands and feet of Jesus, and nailed him to
the cross. He died amidst the most terrible
suffering. Then his body was begged by his
friends, who took him down and buried him.
After three days, he rose from the dead, and
ascended up to heaven.  There he hears our
prayers, and helps us for the sake of his own
sufferings and death. All this he does for you,
Harry!"
"What can I do for him?" earnestly inquired Harry.
"You can love him  and trust in him,"
answered Mr. Williams.
"I want to: I hope I'll know how," continued the child, so simply, so sincerely, that
Mr. Williams was reminded of the man who
said to Jesus, when on earth, " I believe: help
thou mine unbelief." 
"I will tell you a story," said he to Harry.
"Perhaps it will help you to see what Jesus




96         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
wants you to do.  Once a little boy was playing about on the top of a very high building,
that was just being built, and had a great
many loose boards lying about its top, and
timbers and stone around it below. As he
skipped about carelessly, he stepped on a loose
board, which gave way, and he fell. As he
fell, lie caught the end of a rope, which hung
over the side of the building. There he hung,
high up in the air. It was hard to hold on.
His arms and hands ached. But he knew, if
he let go the rope, he would be dashed in
pieces on the rocks beneath him. Just as his
strength was failing, and it seemed he could
not hold on another moment, a man ran to his
rescue, and, stretching out his strong arms
directly below him, cried out,' Let go the rope,
my boy, and drop into my arms. Don't be
afraid. I'll save you!' The boy dropped into
his arms, and was saved.  Just so you are
hanging over the place of destruction. Just




A HAPPY DISCOVERY.          97
so Jesus comes to you, his heart full of love
and pity, and, stretching out his strong arms,
calls on you to drop into them and be saved."
"Only that! - nothing more? " exclaimed
Harry, his large, clear, blue eyes overflowing
with astonishment. Could it be that Jesus
required so little of him! - only to trust?
"Only that! -nothing more!" repeated
Mr. Williams with emphasis, as he gazed fully
and earnestly into the fair young face turned
up to him.
A  new light began to dawn on Harry.
Now he had learned, not only of God, but of
God in Christ,- a Being who knew all his
feelings and struggles, who loved and pitied
him, and gave his life to save him. He felt
that he could trust him, and was happier than
he had been for many days.
The day had deepened into twilight, and
twilight into darkness. Upon the rocky shore,
amidst the solemn sound of the waves which
7




98         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
broke softly at their side, Mr. Williams and
Harry knelt and prayed together.
Mr. Williams held Harry's hand with a firm,
tender grasp, as they walked homeward over
their rough and stony path. And this path
might represent another, which Harry, with his
hand in his Saviour's, and a new fountain of
love springing up in his heart, was treading
with an easier, firmer step.  Mr. Williams
was silently rejoicing over his new discovery.
Like Elijah of old, who thought himself alone
amidst the worshippers of Baal, he had supposed himself far separate from all Christian
sympathy; but even here he had found one
of Christ's little ones. That was like a star
of hope to him. Was it not the sign of better
days for this famishing region?




CHAPTER X.
Bright Yhoughts.
R. WILLIAMS retired at an early
hour as usual, but not to sleep.
Hour after hour he lay absorbed
in exciting meditations. The deep
quiet throughout the house, unbroken, save by
the heavy breathing common to sound sleep,
and the loud tick of the old clock, with its still
louder tolling of the passing hour, convinced
him, that, of the household, he was alone in his
wakefulness. The harbor, too, was all quiet,
excepting the occasional pattering of rain upon
the roof, the roar of the furnace-flames, and
the breaking of the surf on the beach. He
99




100       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
resorted to every method to drive away his
thoughts.  He counted, repeated to himself
hymns and paragraphs of Scripture, then went
over the same backwards; but midnight came,
and several hours after, before " tired Nature's
sweet restorer" came to his relief.
He thought of Harry, and wondered that he
had not before spoken to him, personally, about
the matter that rested so heavily upon his
heart. The thought came to him with power,
that there might be many little ones, who
carried about those daily longings for spiritual
life, without any one to speak the first word,
and thus break the tempter's spell, that binds
the human heart, and keeps it dumb on the
most important of all human interests. If so,
how great would be the responsibility of those
to whose influence was given the tenderness of
young life!
Then he reviewed the dreadful scene of the
late catastrophe, and could but regard it as an




NIGHT THOUGHTS.            101
indication of the moral condition of the community about him, -an outcropping of the corruption and wretchedness of its inner life.
He thought of the varied and strange providences that had broken up his former situation
in business, and driven him by necessity to this
moral waste.  Was it a mere question of the
necessaries of life, - of bread and butter for
his wife and children. Above all this, had he
not a mission here?   He thought of Paul,
when, in his second great missionary tour, he
lay down to sleep across the sea from  the
Macedonian shores, his heart full of sorrow
over the darkness of heathenism, and saw a
Macedonian  at his bedside, crying, " Come
over and help us!"  and in the person of
Harry, whose tears and cries were still in his
heart, Mr. Williams seemed to meet the same
appeal, in behalf of the benighted region about
him.
His deepest soul responded to the appeal;




102       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOt.
but oh, his weakness! his inefficiency! He
rose, and silently, with tears, consecrated himself to the work which Providence had evidently placed before him.  It was a solemn
and delightful moment.  He arose strengthened; for every consecrated man is strong,
having first felt his own weakness, and then
having  been  anointed with power from  on
high.
The few hours' sleep which followed were
very refreshing, and Mr. Williams arose to a
new life.




CHAPTER XI.. A ew.e  Enterprise.
(j [HE morning sun rose clear and beautiful, after a night of summer show1  ers. Every rock and cliff stood forth
t   in brighter colors; trees and flowers,
newly washed, glistened in drops of pearl; a
fresh breeze from off the land was redolent
from the hills, and the very earth seemed to
give forth a fragrance.  The sky was deep,
with scarce a cloud, and the azure seemed
brighter and richer, as if the showers had
washed out the very heavens; while the sunbeams sparkled and danced upon the waters,
not yet quieted from the winds of the night.
When  Harry  waked, the  sunlight was
103




104        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
streaming in through the little window which
lighted the small garret making the boy's
sleeping apartment.  He had slept soundly,
and, seemingly, after the usual time; for his
brothers were up and gone, and he heard the
sound of business about the village.
lie scarcely knew what to think of himself.
He seemed to have waked up into a new life.
Oh, the sweet peace that filled his heart! the
joy that welled up into all his being, and overflowed in tears of rapture!  He thought of
the weight that had rested so heavily upon
him; but it was altogether gone. He had no
fear of death now, nor of the Judgment. God
was no longer a terror to him, but the object
of a new and tender love.
He sprang up and dressed himself, and
prayed as he had never prayed before. He
thanked God out of a heart full and overflowing; and his petitions were no longer addressed as to one afar off, —one who had scarcely




A NEW ENTERPRISE.           105
any thing like personal reality to him, - but to
the Christ, glorious and divine, yet stretching
out to him a human hand, having a human
heart that loved and pitied, and an ear to hear
his cry, as his mother would hear him when
he called for bread.  Nor let any one think
such knowledge too wonderful for a child like
him; for, though there is much in the mysterious personage of the God-man that not even the
wisest can fathom, there is also much with
which even such little ones can sympathize.
Harry came tripping down stairs with even
a lighter step than usual; so much so, that his
mother, absorbed in her breakfast preparation,
was startled, and, straightening herself up from
over her frying-pan, looked upon him with a
look of wonder.
The child could scarcely contain his secret.
He wanted to tell some one how happy he was,
how near Jesus seemed to him, and how he
loved him. How natural, too, that he should




106        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
want to tell his mother!  But he had not
been brought up so close to his mother's heart
as many children are. She loved her brighteyed Harry, whose merry, musical laugh, and
genial overflow  of joyous young life, stole
about her heart like rays of sunshine forcing
their way through her cloudy sky; but she
knew nothing of that delicately refined affection which takes a child into the holy of holies
of the heart's sanctuary, and keeps open door
between the secrets that dwell in the breast of
parent and child.
Harry went out upon the dock, and, sitting
upon a pile of lumber, gazed upon the beautiful
world about him. Could it be that those rocks
and cliffs had always been just as they were
on that happy morning?  Was not the great
wall, running along the main land on the opposite side of the harbor, much higher and more
grand than ever before?  Oh, the lake, the
sky, the sun! Surely, they had never been so
brilliant, so glorious I




A NEW ENTERPRISE.           107
Every little thing in nature had a new interest to him, and he discovered a new love for
every object that God has made.  The fish
that bent like a bow above the water in search
of his breakfast, the white kittens that played
and frolicked about the dock, the robin that
sung in the evergreen near by, all made him
happy; and the very roar of the furnace
seemed like a  grand  chord  in  Nature's
harmony.
True, he did not reflect on all this with the
accuracy and profoundness of those who are
older and can boast of culture in the fine arts,
and long  experience in the observation of
nature; but so simple and benevolent are the
beauties and grandeur of the world which God
has spread out before us, that even a child may
read with delight.
When breakfast came, Mr. Williams did not
fail to see the new face Harry wore. " The
child's heart has found rest," he said to himself,




108        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
as he looked upon him so fresh and radiant,
like a rose on a June morning: " God be gracious to him! "  Scarcely less happy was Mr.
Williams himself.  The morning had been new
to him, after his night of reflection and new
resolutions; and a careful observer might have
seen new joy and peace on his countenance.
" Come to the shop with me," said he to
Harry, after breakfast.
Harry was glad to go; for he felt a new love
for Mr. Williams, and wanted to tell him what
a change he had met.
" You are very happy this morning, -are
you not, Harry? " said Mr. Williams, as soon
as he was fairly at work in his shop.
Harry nodded his head emphatically, and
smiled the happiest smile Mr. Williams had
seen for many a day.
"I have something new to tell you," continued Mr. Williams.  " We shall have a Sunday
school here at the harbor."




A NEW ENTERPRISE.          109
" What's that?"  inquired  Harry, with
much curiosity.
He had never heard of a school of any kind.
The word had no possible meaning to him.
" It is for boys and girls to come together to
learn about God, about Jesus, and how  to
do right."
"I'll go," promised Harry, pleased with
such a prospect.
"I thought a great deal about this last
night. This morning I have been round bright
and early, inquiring into things. Two families
of good people, who love Jesus, have just moved
here. One lives a mile back in the woods, at
the coal-pits. The other up here, in the large
brown house in the middle of the row. He
will open his house for the school, and we will
begin next Sunday."
" I'm glad. I'll go round and git the boys
and girls to come."
" That's just the thing for you to do, Harry.




110        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Work for Jesus in that way, and you will continue to be happy, and grow better every day.
My little boy, Frank, is about as large as you;
and Clara, my little daughter, is some larger.
By the next trip of' The Northern Light,'
they will be here; and they will be delighted
to go with you, and help you."' How will it be?-the -the - what did
you call it? " queried Harry, delighted with
the design of the new enterprise, and wishing
to know something of its method.
" The Sunday school?"
" Yes, - yes!
We shall have books to learn from.  We
shall have  singing  too,"  continued  Mr.
Williams.
All the singing Harry had ever heard was a
rude rendering of vulgar rhymes. He wondered if the singing Mr. Williams referred to
could be any thing like that.
" Now go and play, Harry," said Mr. Wil.




A NEW ENTERPRISE.          111
liams kindly; " and this afternoon, when the
boat comes in, be on hand. I'll introduce you
to my little ones."
Harry bounded away, and, casting many an
eager look acroso the water, found the hours
long till the boat appeared.




CHAPTER XTI
Out in the Highlhays.
HE NORTHERN LIGHT " had
landed Mr. Williams's family; and
Harry had received his introduction
to Frank and Clara, who were neater
and more interesting than any children he had
ever seen.
There was no time to be lost in the Sundayschool project; so, on the first morning after
their arrival, Harry's young friends started out
with him into the highways to canvass for it.
According to Mr. Williams's advice, they
began at head-quarters.  Mr. Alton was the
man of the place. He had the entire oversight of every department of the business, and
112




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.         113
all the employees looked up to him as a sort of
kirg of the harbor. He had never manifested
any sentiment whatever as to religion; but he
was a so-called moral man, and had a very
sweet little girl, whom he might wish to have
in the Sunday school; and, if his indorsement
of the enterprise could be gained, it would be
of great value in the community.
The little company of missionaries went up
the steep bank of the point, to the large white
house; and Harry rang the bell, feeling rather
timid, for he had never ventured so near the
grandest house at the harbor before, and Mr.
Alton had always been disposed to deal in
short measure with the rude flock of children
of the place. But he knew his was a noble
cause, and he nerved himself up to all the
courage possible.
Mrs. Alton came to the door, and very
kindly invited them in.
Harry, being somewhat known, had agreed
8




114        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
to be spokesman.  So, as soon as they were
fairly seated, he opened up their errand.
"These is Frank and Clara Williams," he
said, with natural politeness, to the elegant lady
of the house.  "They've just come here to
live."
" I'm  very glad to see them," added Mrs.
Alton, as Harry hesitated in trying to bring
forward his errand, in connection with the young
strangers just introduced.  "I hope more such
bright and interesting boys and girls may come
to the harbor."
" Mr. Williams - their father - is goin' to
get up a- a Sunday school at Mr. Hawley's.
It's goin' to begin next Sunday; and we've come
to see if your little girl can go."
" That is all very kind, and, perhaps, very
well," complimented the lady, out of politeness
rather than  for any particular regard  for
religion.  "Kittie used to go to Sunday school
before we came here: I don't know  what
she'll think of it now."




OUT IN TIE HIGHWAYS.           115
"O  ma, I want to go!  I love Sunday
school so much!" spoke up Kittie, as she came
into the room, overhearing what her mother
had just said.
"This is my Kittie," said Mrs. Alton, introducing a sprightly little girl of about eight
years, bright blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and
having such a profusion of yellow curls, that
her plump shoulders and full forehead were
half-buried in their soft, silken tresses.
"Is it a Sunday school I hears you talkin''bout?"  inquired a tall, fat colored woman
who came in from  an adjoining room, where
she happened to catch a part of the conversation.
" Yes, Toodie: you'll be glad to learn about
it," replied Mrs. Alton.  "You're so fond of
such things."
"A  Sunday school in dis ar place! Bress
de Lord!" exclaimed Toodie, as she stood in
the middle of the floor, lifting up her plump,




116        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
black hand in astonishment.  " I's been'fraid
dis ar place so near de heathen, dat we'd neber
git any thing o' dat sort in my time."
" Tell your good man I'll be on hand," she
continued as she started to leave the room.
" What's de time, do you say? "
" Half-past ten in the forenoon," answered
Harry, who knew Mr. Williams would be glad
to hear of another helper in the good work.
" You'll take me, Toodie, if ma'11 let me
go, - won't you? " pleaded Kittie.
" Yes, indeed! bress you, my honey. I'll go
laughin' all de way, if mammy'ill let you go."
"Well, I guess we must let Kittie go,"
consented Mrs. Alton playfully.  "You may
expect them bright and early next Sunday."
The errand was done, and the object accomplished, and our little friends rose to leave.
Just as they were going out of the door, they
met Miss Elliot, Mrs. Dr. Sprague's sister.
Before she had got fairly in, or the young




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.          117
visitors fairly out, Kittie had announced the
Sunday school, with the utmost enthusiasm.
"Indeed!  A  Sunday school!" exclaimed
the pious young  lady.  "That's delighltful
news.
"Tell Mr. Williams he may count me for
one in the good work," she pledged, on learning the facts of the case.
" Haven't we done well? " said Clara, delighted with their success, as the little trio
tripped down the steep bank into the street.
" Hope we'll do as well everywhere," added
Harry.
"But we mustn't be discouraged if we
don't," cautioned Frank. "It's a great work;
and pa says the people here are very wicked,
so they may not like such good things right
away."
"Where  shall we  go next?"  inquired
Clara.
" To  Mr. Henry's,"  answered  Harry.




118        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
"He's got the most children of any one in
town, —four boys and five girls."
Mr. Henry was foreman at the furnace.
He had always lived in the mining regions,
and had scarcely been inside of a church in
his life. Of course his children had never been
in Sunday school, and he himself scarcely
knew what such a thing meant.  But he was
naturally generous and obliging, and might put
his family under the care of so good a man as
Mr. Williams, out of sheer accommodation.
With his wife the case might be less hopeful.
While she had had no advantages above her
husband, and, consequently, was no better able
to appreciate a good institution in society, she
lacked his kindness and generosity. But her
large, ill-bred, noisy family was a great pest to
her; and she was glad, at any time, to be rid of
them a single hour.
They lived in the first of the long row of
brown houses, which our young friends came




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.          119
to on their way from Mr. Alton's; and so loud
was the uproar made by the large family of
children, turned loose on the uncarpeted floor,
that Harry knocked quite loudly and several
times, before he could make himself heard.
"Come in," shrieked out Mrs. Henry, above
the rattle and clatter of chairs, benches, and
tables, and in no very good-natured tone.
The  commotion  subsided  as the visitors
entered; and, as they seated themselves upon a
long bench near the door, they had the benefit
of a thorough scanning, from head to foot, by
Mrs. Henry  and  the  family  in  general.
Clara's tall, slender figure, full, black eyes,
and dark, wavy hair, and more particularly her
gentleness and lady-like manner, were carefully
noted; and Frank, short, plump, rosy-cheeked,
and so full of life and good-humor that it
sparkled in his clear blue eyes, flowed over
every feature of his round face, and turned
the very hairs of his head  into  frolicsome




120        SNAIL-SHELD HARBOR.
twists and curls, was no less an object of
interest.
" These is some of the new folks jest come,
I s'pose?"  said Mrs. Henry, standing in
the middle of the floor, with a broom in one
hand and biting the finger-nails of the other.
"Clara and Frank are," responded Harry.
" I'm Harry Sandy, and lived here before the
town was built. Mr. Williams, -Clara and
Frank's father, is goin' to begin a Sunday
school at Mr. Hawley's, next Sunday mornin' -
half-past ten. Please, ma'am, he'd like to have
your children come."
"What did you say it was, boy, eh?"
queried Mrs. Henry, in a loud tone, and with a
puzzled air.
"A Sunday school," added Harry.
"What's that for? 
"To learn out of the Bible," joined Clara.
"To  learn about God, and how  to serve
him."




OUT IN THEk TIGHWAYS.         121
"Humph!  Well, that won't do'em  no
hurt, I reckon," said the curious woman; "and
it'ill do me good to git'em out o' the way a
while. I'll agree. But ask their father. He's
at the furnace.  He knows more about sich
things than I do, maybe."
Clara and Frank were quite ready to go to
the furnace.  Their father had written them a
great deal about it before they came to the
harbor, and they had not yet visited it. So
they started at once to see Mr. Henry.
They found him busy preparing to draw off
the melted iron.  After the furnace  was'drained, and its contents of fiery liquid run
into moulds in the sand, to cool and harden for
shipping, he would be able to listen to what
they had to say.
Meanwhile, the  young  strangers  were
pleased to look on, and see how all this was
done.  They observed the large bed of brown
sand, gradually sloping from the mouth of the




122        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
furnace at one end of the large building, and
extending to the other end.  This sand was
carefully smoothed over, and moulded into long
rows of gutters, into which the melted iron
was run, and formed into large, straight pieces,
called pigs.
Mr. Henry was giving orders to the men,
who punched open the mouth of the furnace,
which was stopped up with a kind of clay, and
let off the scum  of the melted iron, called
cinder.  When it first flowed out, it looked
like a stream  of fire; but it soon cooled off,
and turned almost as white as snow. It was
full of pores, and very brittle; and, when held
to the ear, was full of crackling sounds. Some
pieces of it were solid, and looked like glass
of different colors.
After the cinder, the iron was drawn off.
It ran along the gutters in the sand, like oil,
and was about the color of a bright flame.
It gave off  an immense heat while cooling,




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.          123
and it was several hours before it could be
handled.
Clara and Frank were highly pleased with
the business, but they were shocked at the
profanity of the workmen; for when  they
punched open the furnace, and particles of
melted iron, glowing with a white heat, occasionally flew in every direction, burning their
clothing, and sometimes their flesh, there was a
volley of oaths that was perfectly terrible.
The strong men, who carried out the iron after
it was moulded into pigs, occasionally scratching  or cutting  themselves with  the sharp
corners and edges, used the name of Christ so
shockingly that Clara turned pale, and Frank
felt his very blood chill.
During the hurry and bustle of drawing off
the furnace, Harry had kept his eye on the tall,
fat, rosy-faced man, known by every man and
child in the village as good-natured, jolly Mr.
Henry.  Nor had the trim  little company




124        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
failed to get an occasional look from him, even
before they ventured to speak to him. Rough
and uncouth as lie was, he had an eye for
pretty children.  He admired  them  as he
would a pretty flower or a bright star; and was
more than once heard to say, that, in all the
wide world, he did not believe there was any
thing so charming as their bright eyes and rosy
cheeks.
He received our young friends with a real
kindness, that cheered them on in their good
work, and very readily promised the patronage
of his family.
"You've jest made the hit in comin' here,"
said he. " Half a dozen men or more in this
establishment have little fellows at home. I
guess they'll all send. S'pose you wouldn't
mind havin' little good company like mine, eh?
I might go round with you, and see'em."
"Thank  you, sir," said Clara politely:
"thank you. That will help ever so much."




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.           125
Mr. Henry was just the pilot needed in this
large establishment.  Every item  of interest
was carefully pointed out, and accompanied
with an overflow  of pleasantry and  quaint
remarks, that heightened satisfaction at every
turn; and he knew the men as a sailor knows
his boat, or a farmer his horses, and could
approach them to the best advantage.
On they went, into the large department
where  great stacks of coal and  ore were
housed, where  was a powerful and  noisy
crushing machine, grinding down  the  large
junks of ore for the furnace; into the engineroom, where was a huge steam-power, which
served the machinery throughout the establishment, and plied an immense bellows, operating
at the base of the furnace-shaft to intensify the
heat.
When they had canvassed all the lower
part of the building with good success, -that is
to say, with fair promises, - Mr. Henry pro



126        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
posed to call on the fireman in the highest story,
who fed the huge shaft from the top.
This point was accessible by a long, dark,
winding stairway, rising some sixty feet; but
their guide proposed to our young friends to
ascend on the large elevator, which carried up
the coal and ore.  The ride was so romantic,
that the boys laughed outright; but Clara was
a little nervous, and would have been dizzy,
had it not been for the  strong  man who
steadied her.
" The finest cargo you ever took up here,
Sam! " exclaimed Mr. Henry to the fireman,
as they landed on the highest story.
" Sam, here, has got a whole tribe of little
chaps. He'll be in for the school."
Sam listened very attentively to the report
of the Sunday-school plan, and promised to
send his whole family of boys, if they could
get up clothes that were decent.
" No need of bein' proud in this, Sam," said
Mr. Henry.  "It isn't for makin' show."




OUT IN TIIE HIGHWAYS.          127
The great shaft, full sixty feet high, and
many feet in diameter, which rolled up its huge
bulk of flame far above its top, loading the air
with a heavy cloud of black smoke, was an
interesting affair, as explained by Mr. Henry.
It was kept full of coal and ore, from top to
bottom.  This was a solid mass of fire, furnished with a thorough draft below, and the
great bellows already referred to.  The gas
generated by burning the coal was conducted
back to the base of the shaft, and turned into
the immense column of fire to increase its
intensity.
" That's about the hottest fire that can be
got up," said Mr. Henry.
It made Clara think of the place "where
their worm  dieth not, and the fire  is not
quenched."
The company descended by the elevator,
and having finished their errand, and thanked
Mr. Henry for his kindness, hurried home to




128       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
dinner, to resume their work again in the
afternoon.
The afternoon, however, was not so encouraging. Now they came in contact with a more
unpromising part of the community.  The
better class of inhabitants had been solicited in
the forenoon; and the work that remained was
nearly confined to the log-houses on Shanty
Street, which were occupied, for the most part,
by a low  grade of German, French, and
Irish.
Clara had scarcely seen any thing so revolting in the worst parts of the city of Cleveland.
The huts were built on the very edge of the
street.  In  front and around them, hens
scratched, and hogs wallowed in the mire.
These domesticated creatures were thrown into
great excitement by the new visitors.  The
poultry set up a regular concert of cackling,
and the swine grunted and snorted as if taking alarm. Frank was vain enough to wonder




OUT IN THE HIGHWAYS.          129
if it were not because of the rare appearance
of decent-appearing people  in  those parts.
Oh, the stench that met them on every hand!
and the filthy, ragged children! Clara almost
wondered if they could be a part of common
humanity.
They called at every house, with scarcely
any success. No: they omitted one.  When
they came in front of Pat Sharky's, they met
Pat sneaking out, with a look not unlike that
of a dog witl his tail between his legs; while
Madam  Sharky, the tallest, fattest woman in
the village, stood in the door, her eyes flashing
with anger, and her face red with excitement,
as she held a broomstick in one hand, and
doubled the other into a huge fist, which she
shook most significantly, as she followed Pat
with a torrent of vulgar eloquence, quite unfit
to be recorded here.
Of course the children excused themselves,
9




130        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
for the time at least, from calling here, and
passed on to the uninviting homes beyond.
On all the rest of the street, their reception
was very cool. It might be well expressed in
the response given their invitation by Mrs.
Flannagan, who lived in the last hut on the
street -
"An' sure, an' what do ye think the praste
would be afther doin' to me, if he caught me,
afther the likes o' that! No: niver, niver in
all my born days! "
Our young friends had done a large day's
work, and returned home somewhat fatigued;
but they had never felt happier in their life, for
they had been about their Master's business.
That was the first day's work ever done for
the cause of religion at the harbor. The next
Sabbath would tell how much of an impression
had been made.




CHAPTER XIII.
fhe Sunday  School.
(Z) HE tour of the young missionaries
B;4;yN     created quite an excitement. The
Sunday  school  proposed  was  so
entirely new, so unheard-of to most
of the inhabitants, that they looked forward to
it with much curiosity. Fathers and mothers
wondered what it would be like, and children
were as full of marvel as if they had been expecting a show. The subject was talked about
and discussed, and the time seemed long till
Sunday came.
Saturday night brought a storm.  Till on
131




132        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
into  the morning, lightnings gleamed and
flashed, and thunders rattled and roared, as if
the very elements were at war.  Rain fell il
torrents; and the lake, lashed into fury, rolled
its troubled waters noisily upon the shore.
After a night of unrefreshing sleep, the
dawn came with a gray and feeble light, that
was long struggling into day. The storm had
ceased; but, for hours, dark clouds floated low
under the whole sky, and a gray fog hung in
heavy folds about the cliffs, and reconnoitred in
the harbor.
" Do you think the rain is over, pa? I had
hoped we should have a fine day! " said Clara
Williams, as she rose at a very early hour,
quite pale after her restless night, and looking
very much disappointed.
"I do not know enough about this climate,
my daughter, to  tell,"  replied  her father.
"But we must not be anxious. Who is it that
takes care of the storms and the sunshine? "




THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.         133
Clara's eye brightened as a new train of
thought came to her relief. Why should she
trouble herself about the weather? Did not
her heavenly Father hold the winds in the
hollow  of his hand? Were not cloud and
sunshine alike at his bidding? - and he loved
Sunday schools more than she did.
But trust in Providence, and prayer for
what we feel we need, are not inconsistent.
So Clara stole away to her chamber, and
prayed for God to drive away the clouds, and
give the people of the harbor sunshine for
their Sunday school.
She almost clapped her hands for joy a few
hours afterward, when she saw a bright spot
of blue sky peering through the clouds, and
then, gradually, the whole army of cloud-banks
and fogs driven out across the water, before a
fresh wind from off the hills. Long before the
time for Sunday school, the sun was shining
with a brightness that made Nature glisten in




134       SNAIL-SHIELL HARBOR.
her newly-washed robes, and warmed the very
hills into fragrance.
Full half an hour before the time of Sunday
school, the  children  were  on  their way.
Almost every one went to the window to see
the new and beautiful sight. Before, Sunday,
to the children, had scarcely differed from
other days. If they were washed and dressed
a little cleaner than usual, the day had barely
begun when they were as thoroughly covered
with iron-rust or coal-smut as on any other
day of the week; and they had never known
any higher employment for its hallowed hours
than their common romp and rollick. To-day
their clothes continued perfectly clean; the
wildest, roughest boys in the village walked
with the quiet and dignity of gentlemen;
boisterous voices were subdued to sweetness,
hard, cold features softened into kindness.
The people hardly knew the children of their
own town, so great was the change wrought




THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.          135
by cleanliness, and the first step towards good
order.
The  place  of meeting, with  its  little
audience, was somewhat romantic. The room,
which was of middling dimensions, was exceedingly plain.   No  carpet, no  pictures,
but little furniture, and that the very commonest, no paper on the walls, - they were
clean and white as new-fallen snow. The brown
doors had neither finger-mark nor speck; the
windows were clear and transparent as the air
itself; the floor was so scrubbed into whiteness,
that one might have eaten his dinner from off
it with a good stomach.
Mr. Hawley evidently had looked forward to
the work with faith. He had expected a full
house, and made his preparations accordingly.
Boards had been carried in, and so adjusted
that the room could be seated to its utmost
capacity.
Would not God recognize this confidence in




136        SNAIL-SHELL HA RBOR.
the success of effort put forth for the truth?
Would he not say, as to one of old, "According to thy faith, so be it ufito thee"?  Mr.
Hawley was not disappointed. Almost every
seat was occupied.
The gathering contained a great variety.
There were the Williamses and Miss Elliot,
neat and tasty enough to be in keeping with
any audience; Kittie Alton and the young
Sandys, fresh and beautiful as morning flowers.
The little Henrys, the Rileys, and the Richardsons, in full rustic hardiness and simplicity;
plump, black, shiny Toodie, decked  out in
purest white muslin, and white-straw hat all
a-bloom with artificials. Andy, her husband,
-a hardy, stalwart African, full six  feet
three, who worked among the coal-pits back in
the woods, - had heard of the Sunday school,
and, being an earnest, pure-hearted Christian,
was on hand to bear his part in tie enterprise.
But the matter was not all romance. How



THE SUNDA Y SCHOOL.         137
ever skilful the workman, it is difficult to work
without tools.  Herein  Mr. Williams was
exceedingly deficient. There was no library
of elegant books, no charming papers, and but
few able to read them if there had been; no
singing-books, and hardly any one able to sing.
A few, who could read, had brought Bibles and
Testaments.  These were the full amount of
appliances for the great work.
Of course, Mr. Williams was chosen superintendent; and now came the tug of war, the
test of generalship.  But the good man had
the grand qualification, - "faith." Why should
he be faint-hearted? Was not the same One
who commanded the disciples of old to feed
the multitude of thousands with five loaves and
two small fishes, saying to him, " Give ye them
to eat?"   The twelve baskets of fragments
taken up proved that obligation may transcend the means in hand, and that he who
labors for God may not calculate results from
apparent causes.




138       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
First, the superintendent led in singing a
hymn, which he gave out a few lines at a time,
repeating it and singing it over, till nearly all
could join in. Then he read the Word of God,
and prayed.   While he prayed, all knelt
down, and silently repeated each petition after
him.
The classes were arranged.  There was
employment for each one able to teach, Andy
and Toodie not excepted.
Seldom have teachers addressed themselves
to their work with such thorough and welldirected zeal.  They would not merely be
regular in their attendance on Sabbath, making
good preparation for their work; but they
would take a personal, prayerful interest in
each scholar, holding the same relation to the
little flock that a pastor should to his church
and congregation.
The exercise was not a mere entertainment,
— it was true spiritual worship. Hearts were




THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.         139
awed as in the presence of God, and carried
away a deep and solemn impression.
There had been a successful beginning of a
great work; and the band of workers returned
home with enlarged hearts and increasing faith
in God.




CHAPTER XIV.
Yhke Minister.
HE  community at the  harbor was
rapidly growing in business and in
population.  A second smelting-stack
was going up; and teams, coal-pits,
tugs, scows, workmen, and every other accompaniment of the main business, were increasing accordingly. The land cleared in procuring
wood for the coal-pits was worked by farmers,
and lumber-mills were going up at several
points in the vicinity.
The  growing  importance  of the  place
started new points of business apart from that
of the iron company. A small art-gallery was
140




THE MINISTER.             141
set up, a life-insurance agent put out his sign,
and the government surveyor for the county
took quarters in one of the houses belonging
to the company.
The vitality and increase of business at this
point stimulated  the  growth of settlements
adjoining, and these re-acted in promoting the
prosperity of the harbor.  Very soon here
would be a county-seat.
Mr. Williams was a man who went through
the world wide-awake, and he brought the
first-fruits of his enterprise to the cause of
religion. He saw that the harbor was to have
a future, and he was anxious that the entire
region should be consecrated to God. For this
he prayed and thought and labored.
Already his Sunday school — less than a
month old - had become a power. By constant
perseverance, nearly every child in the village
had been gathered in; and, for several miles
around, the families of farmers and workmen,




142        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
in the forest and among the coal-pits, were
being brought under its influence.
We are justifiable in speaking of the influence of this Sunday school; for it had positive moral and religious power. The teachers'
hearts were filled with love, which drew the
children to them as a magnet draws iron; and
the Scriptures were so thoroughly studied, and
so elaborately and fascinatingly taught, that the
young hearts were thrilled with interest, and
so completely.saturated with the lesson that
they carried it about with them all the week.
The instructions were not such as might be
given by more educated teachers, - not critical
or learned, but simple, practical, and earnest,
such as were wrought out by true Christian
experience.  Hence their power over the heart
and life.
Any one might observe a gradual change in
the children. There was less swearing among
the boys, fewer blackened  eyes and bloody




THE MINISTER.           143
noses, less of general depredation about the
village, and more obedience to parents at
home. Mr. Henry declared, that it would be
well to invest money in so good a cause as the
Sunday school, and even Sandy thought it a
paying institution.
Nor did it fail to affect the older part of the
community.  Somehow, in a subtle way, a
good influence was abroad.  Parents grew
more loving and spoke more kindly to the
little ones; and a daily contact with the truths
of Scripture  through  these warm, tender,
young natures, was acting upon  the very
springs of their life.
Mr. Williams saw that here was a field
white for the harvest; and, after much thought
and prayer, he consulted the little prayingcircle as to procuring a minister of the gospel.
There could be but one opinion concerning the
want of the community; but how could a
preacher be supported?  Mr. Williams was a




144        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
practical man, and looked the question fairly in
the face, with that faith before which mountains of difficulty flee away, —a faith that
works!
There were now five Christian families at
the harbor; none of them  wealthy, but all
comfortable. If they would give one-tenth of
their income, according to Scripture, half the
support of a minister would be secured. Then
there  were friends who  would  aid.   Dr.
Sprague had already offered to be responsible
for forty dollars a year, if a good preacher
could be found. Besides, Mr. Williams stood
ready to give even more than a tenth of his
income, if necessary.
Correspondence was had with a personal
acquaintance of Mr. Willliams, who seemed,
as he thought, especially adapted to the field,
and very soon he was landed by " The Northern Light."
Mr. Williams was on hand to receive him,




THE MINISTER.          145
and his coming made quite a sensation in the
village. He had been expected and talked
about, and, for the most part, seemed welcome.
Many of the Sunday-school children were
on the dock, and gazed, with curious reverence,
upon the tall, genteel personage in black, who
looked around with a look that seemed to say,
" I love you all, and want to do you good."
"How  the place has grown since I was
here! " said the preacher, as he went up from
the dock towards the row  of brown houses
with Mr. Williams.
"Since you were here?" queried Mr. Williams.
"Yes: I forgot to state, in my note, that I
had some knowledge of the place. I was here,
and spent the greater part of a day, soon after
the iron company began their enterprise;
came over on a tug from  Escanaba, and
loitered and fished in the sunshine."
Mr. Williams thought of Harry's account
10




146       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
of the stranger who had so wonderfully in.
structed him, and wondered if the new-comer
could be he.
"I remember that log-house," continued
the stranger, pointing towards Sandy's dwelling,
"and a little lad, poor fellow, bright and
beautiful as any child I have ever seen, but
wholly uninstructed."
" Harry Sandy!" exclaimed Mr. Williams.
"Here he comes!"
Harry was on his way to the steamer at the
dock, as fast as his nimble feet could carry
him, but halted suddenly on meeting Mr.
Williams, and looked at the stranger with, a
happy look of recognition.
"This is my boy!" exclaimed the newcomer, stepping up to the lad, and taking both
his fat hands in his. "Do you know  me,
Harry?"
" I know you! " responded the boy, with a
readiness and boldness quite uncommon for




THE MINISTER.           147
him.  "I've found Jesus! and I hope I'll stick
to him."
"God bless you, my boy!" added  the
stranger, his large black eyes glistening with
tear-drops, as they gazed into Harry's, which
sparkled like wells of joy.
" Harry  and' I  have  become  intimate
friends," said Mr. Williams.  " I have no
doubt but he is a Christian.  Harry, this is
Mr. Harris, the minister who is to help us in
the Sunday school."
Mr. Harris was made glad by a full account
of the good work at the harbor; and his heart
swelled with gratitude, and he shed tears of
joy, when he learned how God had blessed
the influence of his former casual visit.  He
embraced Harry, as the first fruit of a mission
already begun, and which was henceforth to be
prosecuted with a quickened zeal and confirmed faith.




CHAPTER XV.
fThe Schoolhouse.
R. WILLIAMS  was  a  man
t  of common sense. He was ever
consulting the fitness of things,
and making that nice adjustment
of matters which not only enabled him to do
a great deal in a good undertaking, but saved
him from undoing.
When the minister arrived, he took him,
forthwith, to see Mr. Alton. This he felt to
be a matter of courtesy and wisdom.  Mr.
Alton was a man of natural kindness and
generosity, and, though not professedly reli148




THE SCHOOLHOUSE.          149
gious, would be interested in any thing that
tended to the general advancement of the
community; and his approval and co-operation in the cause of Christ were a proper
object to be sought, not to speak of the general respect he was entitled to from his important position.
Mr. Alton met the visitors with marked
courtesy, and the interview  was one of
interest.
"You have quite an interesting community
here," said Mr. Harris.
"Rather thrifty for a two-year old," responded Mr. Alton.
"Of course, you have not yet all the improvements desirable; but they will, no doubt,
come to pass in due time. You must feel the
need of a school, with so many children growing up without proper employment and training?"
" Very much, sir."




150       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
"' What is the prospect for such advantage,
- permit me to inquire?"
" Not very flattering. All the real estate
of the village and country, for some miles
distant, is owned by the iron company. They
have no interest in the community beyond
money-making.  So they will not be likely
to be the movers in getting up a school, nearly
all the expense of which will come out of their
pockets. And, up to the present, the inhabitants have not had interest enough in such
matters to demand their rights of those who
have the entire control of real estate, or to
make any special arrangement among themselves."
"Building the schoolhouse would be the
main difficulty, I presume," added Mr. Williams, who had fully inquired into the matter
some time before.
"The house once provided, I think  a
school might be gotten up," added Mr. Alton.




THE SCHOOLHOUSE.           151
"Is there no building in the village, that
might serve as a temporary arrangement for
the present?" inquired Mr. Harris.
" Nothing but a log building, formerly used
as a granary, which is now empty," answered
Mr. Alton, with a smile that quite betrayed his
doubtfulness as to the fitness of the building in
question.
" It strikes me that might be made to answer
the purpose," said Mr. Harris.
" Where there's a will there's a way," added
Mr. Alton pleasantly.  " It has a good roof in
case of a storm, and I have a few windows on
hand that might be put in."
" Rough desks might be gotten up in a few
hours, and almost any thing would do for
seats," rejoined Mr. Williams, who was becoming quite inspired with the idea.
"Well, indeed, I don't know but the thing
might be done," concluded Mr. Alton.
"Certainly,  certainly I"  exclaimed  Mr.




152        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Harris, who felt really happy over the new
plan.
In less than two weeks, the plan had been
carried into effect. The granary, thoroughly
cleansed, improved by several large windows,
furnished with long, old-fashioned desks along
the walls, and seats of slabs, supported by large
wooden pins, was really  converted  into a
schoolhouse.
Miss Elliot was chosen teacher; and never
did schoolmistress enter upon her sphere with
broader and deeper views of her responsibility,
and the nobleness of her calling: surely,
never did a purer, lovelier spirit adorn the
schoolroom.  In all respects, she was fully
qualified for her work.
She entered upon her duties with a full
house. For the most part, she was surrounded
by very crude beginnings of human life: but
she knew that in each little casket there dwelt
an immortal soul; and who could tell but that




THE SCHOOLHOUSE.           153
an angel might be hewn out of some of these
rough blocks from  Nature's quarry?  Each
character was carefully studied, and its peculiarities noted; and, after the teacher had made
a full inventory of her weaknesses, she committed herself in humble trust to Him who has
said, "If any lack wisdom, let him  ask of
God, who giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth
not."




CHAPTER XVI.
Yhe Children's Meeeting.
R. HARRIS had a fair knowledge
of human nature, in contact with
gospel truth.  He did not despair
of the conversion of those advanced in life: but his largest hopes and strongest efforts were for the young; for in that
period of life he had reaped most of the fruit
of his ministry. In his new field of labor, no
one, however aged or hardened in sin, was
passed by; but he saw, that in the children of
the Sunday school must be the centre of religious influence.  Here was a profound and
tender interest, which reached every boy and
154




THE CHILDREN'S MEETING.        155
girl in  the community, and which, in the
hearts of some half dozen, was intensified into
real Christian experience.
In addition to the Sabbath services, he wished
to have some social religious exercises during
the week, and determined to commence with a
children's  meeting.   It was  not publicly
announced at first; but the few most prepared
for the work were got together privately, and
instructed as to the way of performing their
part.
Very soon a meeting was given out at the
schoolhouse for all the children in the place;
and there was a full attendance. For the sake
of those interested in such a meeting, and we
trust they are not a few, we will describe it.
In many respects, it was a model meeting to
some of our village and city children, who are
in religious gatherings so frequently that they
pay them  about as little reverence as they
would a tea-party.  Here, the children step




156        SNIAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
into the house softly, and sit in their seats as if
in the presence of God.  Listen! there is no
whispering, no laughing, no shuffling of feet on
the floor.  All is still as death, except the
slight rustle of the leaves as Mr. Harris finds
his hymns and chapter.  They sing so softly,
so devoutly, 
"Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so."
They all kneel down; and Mr. Harris leads in
a simple, earnest prayer, in which all the children silently take part.
They rise and sing again, -
" Oh, how happy are they who their Saviour obey,
And have laid up their treasure above  "
Then Mr. IHrris explained in simple language the parable of the prodigal son.
" How foolish and ungrateful was this son!"




THE CHILDREN'S MEETING.        157
said he. "He had a beautiful home, and a
kind father that ought to have made any child
happy; but he was not content.  So reckless
was he, that he asked his father for his share
of the property, and, having received it, went
out into the world to seek pleasure. He went
into the worst company, fell into the vilest
habits, and spent all he had in gratifying his
lusts. Then arose a famine. The crops failed,
every kind of living was scarce and very
expensive, and the people famished with hun-'ger.  Then this young man began to be in
want.   He was poor and friendless, and
reduced almost to starvation. He hired himself out in the lowest business the country
could afford,-that of feeding swine.  He
was so famished that he longed to partake of
even the food which the swine ate, and no one
helped him. This brought him to his senses.' How foolish I am' said he.' In my father's
house is bread enough and to spare, and I am




158        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
perishing with hunger. I will arise and go to
my father, and confess to him how wicked I have
been; that I am no longer worthy to be called
his son; that I shall be glad to be one of his
hired servants, and occupy the meanest place
in the household.' His father, good old man!
had been watching for him all the time of his
absence, hoping that he might come back. At
length, he saw him in the distance. But could
it be he, - so wearied out with his hardships,
so pale and ragged and cast down?  Yes: the
old man was fully satisfied, while his son was
yet a long distance off. His heart was moved
with such tender pity and such joy that he
ran to meet him. He fell on his neck, and
kissed him! The son, all broken down with
sorrow, began to make his confession; but,
before he got through, his father called out to
the servant to bring the best clothes, to put
shoes on his bare feet, and a ring on his finger,
and kill the fatted calf, and be joyful; for,




THE CHILDREN'S MEETING.         159
said he,' my son was lost, and is found; was
dead, and is alive again.'
"So we have all been ungrateful to our
heavenly Father, and wandered away into sin.
So we will be wretched if we do not come
back.  So he loves us, and will forgive us if
we return to him."
Mr. Harris gave the children an opportunity
to speak for Jesus. Kittie Alton was the first
one to rise. A beautiful, modest flush crept
over her cheek, and a tear glistened in her eye,
as she said, 
" Jesus must be my best friend, for he has
died for me.  Oh, how I love him! He is so
kind, he does not ask us to suffer for our sins:
he suffered himself, to get salvation for us, and
now only asks us to take it.".Clara Williams followed: -
" For a long time I have been trying to be
good, to be a Christian," said she; " but my
heart was so wicked that I failed every day.




160       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
At last I have found out the true way, - we
must give ourselves wholly up to Jesus, and
trust in nothing but his blood for salvation.
Now I have peace: now I am happy."
"I love Jesus," said Harry, so full of
emotion that he could barely speak plainly.
" The boys laugh at me, but I'll never give
up."
Here his heart overflowed; and he sat down,
and buried his face, and wept.
In Frank Williams there was evidently a
conflict. His face glowed with excitement; he
moved about uneasily on his seat, and seemed
several times to be making an effort to rise.
Mr. Harris's eye was on him. He understood the boy's trouble.
" Don't be afraid, Frank," said he. " Stand
up for Jesus. He will help you."
Frank made a desperate effort, and rose to
his feet.
" For a long time I have felt bad," said he,




TIlE CHILDREN'S MEETING.        161
"because I'm  such a sinner; but something
has held me back from giving myself to Jesus.
Now I have made up my mind to be a Christian anyhow."
" Come to Jesus," said Mr. Harris.  "None
but Jesus can do helpless sinners good."
He inquired if any one wished to be prayed
for.
Joe Rowly, one of the largest and roughest
boys in the village, sat near the door, on the
end of one of the long benches.  During the
meeting, he had been an object of general
observation, partly because of his conspicuous
position, more particularly on account of the
contrast between his present seriousness and
his former life.
" Pray for me," said lhe; and, dropping his
head, he covered his face with his hands, while
the large tears trickled through his fingers.
All knelt down for a few minutes of silent
prayer. Nothing could be heard but the sup11




162        SNAIL-SHELL IARBOR.
pressed sobs of several of the children. Before
rising, Mr. Harris  offered  a brief, audible
prayer, full of tenderness and devotion; and,
after singing a hymn, the meeting dispersed.
As Mr. Harris was fairly in the street surrounded by his little flock, he met Andy and
Toodie.  They were perched on the high seat
of a large two-horse wagon, a calf in behind,
and a cow following, -all of which was the
property of their highly-esteemed employer,
Mr. Alton.  As usual, they were overflowing
with  good-nature;  and  their large, coarse,
ebony faces, all aglow with Christian kindliness, seemed really beautiful.
"Dat's de plan, Broder Harris. Begin at de
beginnin'," said Andy.  " More hope for de
young den for old sinners.  It's easy'nough
to bend de slender saplin'; but when de tree
gits old and' stout, an' all de juice is dried up,
it's mighty tough takin' de crooks out."
"True enough," added Mr. Harris.  "Be



THE CHILDREN'S MEETING.         163
sides, these little follows are the doorkeepers
of the parents' hearts."
" Dat's so. Jest look here, Broder Harris,"
continued Andy, as he pointed at the cow
stretching her neck to the utmost to touch the
calf with her tongue, and muttering with satisfaction  as she  lavished  upon it her rude
caresses.  "Squire Alton sent me over to
Garden Bay, some six miles from  here, to
bring home dis ar' cow an' calf, which he'd jest
bought of George Thomson.  Thomson was
puzzled to know how I'd get de cow home. I
sez,'Neber you mind.  Put de calf in de wagon, an' I'll risk de cow.' You see she's jist
follered close on to de wagon, ebery step of de
way."
" Take de lambs in your arms, an' de sheep'ill foller," added Toodie. "Did you have a
good meetin'? "
"Very good.  The Lord is at work in those
young hearts," answered Mr. Harris, as he




164        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
pointed emphatically towards the little company
moving on into the village.
"Bress de Lord! Den de ole folks'ill soon
be comin'," Andy prophesied, as he snapped
his whip, and went on.,I i_




CHAPTER XVII.
/?lants, and what they teach.
o.-lp-     R. HARRIS  recognized the
t  jll g~reat fact, that the HIoly Spirit.-   influences men through the natural laws of their being. This was
a great help to him in his ministry; for it led
him  to study human nature, and to use the
laws of mind and the relations of life as channels for reaching the human heart.
He saw that the social power was a great
means of good; that by coming in contact with
man's daily life, and obtaining a place in his
affections, a strong vantage-ground was gained
for bringing him to a knowledge of the truth;
so he gave his attention to it with a sense of
165




166        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
responsibility. He frequently had social gatherings at his house, sometimes of the old, and
sometimes of the young; and they were always
made the occasion of spiritual profit.
In this arrangement, his wife, who was a
quiet, earnest spirit, took as much interest as
himself.  She would make the most ample
preparation for such an occasion, and throw
open every room  in the house, that every
visitor might feel perfectly at home.
As Mr. and Mrs. Harris were intensely fond
of children, and regarded them  as the most.
promising subjects of Christian effort, the invitation was most frequently given out for them.
On one such occasion, when nearly all the
little ones in the village were gathered at the
minister's pleasant home, he gave them a most
interesting  talk  albout plants  and  flowers.
The idea was readily suggested, for the pastor's
sitting-room was a small greenhouse.
"Those geraniums, and that Chinese prim



PLANTS, AND WHAT THEY TEACH. 167
rose, I have had ever since I was a student in
the theological seminary," said Mr. Harris,
pointing out several most beautiful specimens
of plant-life, as the little company gazed with
wonder on the great variety of plants and
flowers, which nearly filled up the two large
front windows; "and I remember some interesting facts about them."
Mr. Harris saw that all were anxious to hear
what he had to say; so he went on.
" I then had my first experience in taking
care of plants.  A friend made me a present
of a few; and I went to the greenhouse, and
bought more, till my window, which was on
the sunny side of the building, was nearly
filled  up.  I watered  them  regularly, and
watched  them  with a tender interest; and
every one said they were doing well.  After I
had had them  several weeks, I perceived that
both the leaves and the flowers seemed to be
turning towards the window. I turned around




168        SNAIL-SHELL IIARBORi.
a large scarlet geranium  which stood in a
prominent place, and  oh, the profusion of
bright, rich leaves, the clusters of buds and
blossoms! It seemed almost wholly one-sided.
I turned round all the rest, and was astonished
and delighted with the changed appearance
of my window.  Every plant teemed with
foliage and blossoms.
" In a few days, however, the whole scene
had changed.  Every leaf, bud, and blossom
had turned to the window again.  They would
seek the sunshine; and, if I would preserve
their symmetry and beauty, I must keep constantly turning them, and'thus give every part
the benefit of light and warmth.
"By and by I was sick for several weeks;
and a fellow-student, who roomed in the opposite side of the building, and whose window
was never cheered with a ray of sunshine, took
my plants to his apartment, to care for them
during my illness.  He watered them  regu



PLANTS, AIVD WHAT THEY TEACH. 169
larly, and did his best to keep them  thrifty;
but gradually the blossoms faded and dropped
off, the leaves withered, and the tender shoots
lost their vitality.
" My friend became alarmed for them, and
brought them to my room with much anxiety,
declaring that he had done his utmost to make
them  flourish.  The plants were returned to
my window, and gradually recovered  their
thrift and beauty."
"I've  seen  turnip-tops and  potato-stalks
grow in the cellar," said Harry; "but they're
very pale."
"Certainly," said Mr. Harris, "and very
feeble.  They never coul(l have come to any
thing without light. All plants and vegetables
must have light."
"Just as all Christians must live in  the
light of Christ," said Clara Williams to Kittie
Alton.
"You are right, Clara," said Mr. Harris,




170        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
-who iid(1 beel wvaiting to see if any one would
draw  the moral.  "Christ is called' Light,'
and in him is no darkness. No Christian can
be either happy or useful, except as he dwells
in that Light.
" To return to my story: my fellow-students
were highly pleased with my plants; and very
soon, by means of friends and the greenhouse,
many of them  had ornamented their windows
in a similar manner.  Mr. S., my next-door
neighbor, had quite a selection of geraniums,
roses, primroses, pinks, &c., and also a very
fine hanging-basket, containing a great variety
of the most delicate vines, the gift of a particular friend.
" I had been to his room several times to see
his treasures, and he seemed much pleased
with my admiration of them.
"One day, he brought his hanging-basket to
my room, looking exceedingly serious.
"'What do you think ails these vines?'




PLANTS, AND WHAT THEY TEACH. 171
said he, in a sad tone, as he held them up,
wilted and faded, and having lost half their
leaves.
"' Have you taken good care of them?' I
inquired.
"' Certainly,' said he.'I have watered
them  once a week regularly, have turned all
the pots around every now  and  then, and
picked off all the dead leaves; and yet see how
these vines are dying, and every plant in my
window is fading and drying up.'
"' The case is very clear,' said I.'They
need more water.  They should be watered
every day regularly. And the hanging-basket,
which is especially exposed to the dry air and
high temperature of the room, as it is of open
work, should be put in a large dish of water,
and thoroughly saturated. Plants must have
their full amount of water regularly, or they
cannot flourish.'"
"Just as we must read the Bible, and pray




172        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
every day, and go to the prayer-meetin's and
the preachin', or our souls can't git along well,"
said Harry.
"You have applied the matter correctly,"
replied Mr. Harris.  "Prayer, the Word of
God, and the sanctuary, are God's appointed
means of grace; and the Christian needs them
regularly, just as truly as plants need water."
Mr. Harris's talk about plants was highly
interesting and profitable to the children, as
much so as any sermon they had ever heard.
But Mr. Harris knew that the mind needs
amusement as well as devotion.  So, picturebooks, music, and various other innocent diversion, were summoned to the occasion.  And,
when  the  day  was  spent, the  children
returned home, hoping that the time might not
be long till they should have another visit at
the pleasant home of their pastor.




CHAPTER XVIII.
iYe Church Formed.
^(y~ N the physical world, God promotes
life  by  organism.  Vegetable life
expands in the form of a stalk or a
tree, which blossoms, and brings forth
fruit; and one stalk or tree begets others.
So, in the moral world, men have learned that
life and power are secured by organized societies. The Christians at the harbor recognized
this fact, and formed themselves into a church.
A Sabbath Day was set apart for the services
of the occasion; and, as it was something altogether new, and a deep religious interest was
spreading in the community, nearly all the
town was present. The appointment was made
at the schoolhouse; but very soon it was so
173




174        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
crowded that an out-door meeting was proposed.
The congregation adjourned to a beautiful
little nook by the lake, on the side of the point
opposite the harbor. It was nearly semi-circular, and shaded by a thicket of cedars. Here,
as by the Sea of Galilee when Christ was on
earth, the people stood on the shore, and listened to the word of God.
All nature seemed to smile on the occasion.
Not a cloud was in the sky.  The air was
balmy, and so clear that distant objects lost
their prospective. Indian Bluff, in its garment
of evergreens, and islands many miles from
the point, seemed to come so near that one
might almost fancy them within the audience.
There was a kindly echo in the air that
made the cormmonest sounds musical; and the
lake glowed and sparkled in the sunshine.
There was a tender melody in the singing, as
it swelled out upon the water, and rang among




X
P~~~~~~~~~~~l
J:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A r
"The congregation adjourned to a beautiful little nook by the lake."
Page 174.








THE CHURCH FORMED.           175
the hills; prayer seemed unusually fervent,
and the discourse was practical and earnest.
But more impressive than any thing else wa
the public acknowledgment of Christ by four
of the Sunday-school clildren.  Clara and
Frank Williams, Kittie Alton and Harry, came
out from among the world, and put on Christ
in baptism. Their tenderness in years, and
deep sincerity, touched every heart; and many
tears were shed while they received the sacred
ordinance, " in the name of the Father, and of
the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."  It was a
sight truly beautiful.
The morning service ended, and another was
held, near the close of the day, at the same
place. The evening was no less beautiful than
the morning.  There was a soft violet haze in
the atmosphere, that enriched the landscape;
and gorgeous clouds which gathered about the
setting sun cast a crimson light upon the, lake.
What in nature is more impressive than the




176        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
close of a beautiful day!  There is something
in its fading loveliness and shadowy solemnity
that quiets the turbulent passions of the sc'il,
and calls up all that is sacred and tender in our
nature. It had its effect on the humble little
audience by the lake, as they sang the song of
praise, offered prayer, and listened to the
Word. Nor is it strange that nature, in its
numberless phases of beauty, should aid us in
receiving the written revelation: the Author
of the Bible is also the Author of the world,
and can speak to us through them both.
An impressive sermon had been preached
from  the words, "I must work the work of
Him that sent me, while it is day: the night
cometh, when no man can work."  The day
had faded into twilight, and the service was
about to close. The last exercise was the formal constituting of the church.  Those who
were to be members stood on the shore, facing
the audience.  There were fourteen,-ten




TIIE CHURCH FORMED.         177
adults, and the four children who had that day
put on Christ in public profession. The men
and women stood in a row, with the four little
ones in front, while they took upon them the
solemn vows of church-obligation.
The doxology swelled forth with that peculiar pathos which is born of deep emotion; and
the congregation dispersed, never to forget the
scenes of that day.
12




CHAPTER XIX.
Mr. AZlon's Conviction.
OW  shall we increase the attendance
at the prayer-meeting? " said Mr.
Williams one day, at the close of the
weekly gathering of adults for that
purpose.
This prayer-meeting for the older portion of
the community had recently been established,
in addition to that for the children referred to
before; and, beyond the  few  professors of
religion, it was difficult to secure attendance.
The above question was put to the congregation just before dispersing; and Mr. Harris
immediately presented a plan in reply:"Let us turn ourselves into a recruiting
178




MR. ALTON'S CONVICTIONV.        179
company, and, as we go out from here, invite
the first person we meet to meet with us next
Wednesday afternoon, at three o'clock; then
continue our invitation wherever we go."
The plan commended itself, and all adopted
it. Kittie Alton, as all the rest of the little
Christians, was present, and started home on
the alert to carry it out.
The first person she met was her father.
" Papa, will you go to prayer-meeting with
me  next Wednesday  afternoon, at  three
o'clock?  Mr. Harris wants everybody  to
come," she said, before fairly up to him.
"Kittie, I don't want you to speak to me
about that again.  Now  remember," replied
her father, as he stood before her, and looked
her sternly in the face for a moment, and then
walked on.
Kittie passed him, and went home almost
heart-broken.  What could make her father
answer her so? He never had done so before.




180        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
The stern answer, uttered in such harsh tones,
had wounded her very heart; and she walked
on in company with Clara Williams, scarcely
able to speak.
Her mother saw the sad cloud on her brow
as she entered the door, and wondered what
could have darkened the joy that had so filled
her heart ever since the experience of her new
life in Christ. But Mrs. Alton was a stranger
to that life, and stood aloof from it as something mysterious and awful, into which she
dared not inquire.
Kittie felt the need of Christian sympathy at
home every hour; but she had learned to
carry her burdens to her Saviour.   With
scarcely a word, she passed on to her room;
and, laying by her hat and shawl, kneeled
down by her little bed and prayed,"   God! teach my father how to be a Christian. Show him his need of thee, and give him a
new heart. Oh that he may go to the prayer



MR. ALTON'S CONVICTION.        181
meeting with me, and help me in the good
way "
There was a long pause, and heavy sobs, and
then another petition:" O God, have mercy on my mother! Make
her a Christian."
For a few moments, she remained on her
knees, bowed over on her face, and then rose
with the peace of God in her heart.
Mr. Alton had gone to his office, anxious to
employ every moment, for his business was
pressing. But, somehow, he felt very uneasy,
and made slow progress at his desk. In his
confusion, he pulled open the wrong drawer,
opened the wrong file of papers; and, when he
took up his pen, he thought one thing and
wrote another.  He felt troubled over the way
in which he had answered Kittie. Her kind
little face, so full of sadness at his harsh reply,
came between him and every object he tried
to see.  Why did lie speak to her so?  He
queried, but could not answer.




182        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Mr. Alton  was, without doubt, a kind.
hearted man, and scarcely ever uttered an
unkind word. His ordinary temptations did not
lie in that direction. But now his whole being
was thrown into commotion, and the evil passions of his carnal heart were showing themselves without disguise.
lie was under conviction of sin. The new
religious influence in the place, and Kittie's
new life, were having a great effect upon him.
He could no longer trust in his morality: he
was becoming conscious that there was a depth
of depravity in his heart that he could not
fathom.  The Christian religion was evidently
the one thing needful; and he had never
experienced it.
Satan does not give up the human heart
without a dreadful struggle.  As in the case
of the child in the Gospels, he casts us down,
and throws us into the most painful convulsions
before he leaves us. Just before conversion,




MR. ALTON'S CONVICTION.       183
we frequently find the most amiable disposition
unamiable, and those who are naturally patient
and forbearing, exceedingly fretful and unkind.
But, if the terrible conflict ends in yielding the
will to God, a sweet peace follows, and the
individual sits at the feet of Jesus, clothed and
in his right mind.
Mr. Alton opened his ledger, and ran down
the long column of names of debtors to the
iron company. A voice seemed to speak to his
heart, as in tones of thunder, " You have an
account to settle with your God. How does it
stand? "  His past life came up before him.
Oh, the neglected offers of mercy! the duties
left undone! the sins in word and thought
and deed! He trembled as he thought of the
day when the dead, small and great, shall
stand before God, and the books shall be
opened; and the dead shall be judged out of
the things written in the books, according to
their works. But he summoned every energy




184       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
to silence his convictions, and drown his
thoughts in the business of the hour.
Happy for men, that God does not always
give them the desire of their hearts; that the
Holy  Spirit continues long in  its tender
pleadings.
wiJL^86b




CHAPTER XX.
A Joyful WErent.
U S* Ip^^A, won't you pray with me? "
l~  1 ~said Kittie to her mother the
evening following, as her mother
By'  was about to put her to bed.
Never had.Mrs. Alton met so perplexing a
question. For a moment she was speechless,
as Kittie's beautiful eyes were fixed upon her,
and her arms intwined imploringly about her
neck.
" I cannot pray, Kittie," said she at length.
"I do not know how."
" If you try, ma, God will teach you how."
Mrs. Alton kissed her little girl in reply,
and kneeled by her side, as she uttered her
186




186        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
simple, childlike petition to her Father in
heaven.
" Haven't you noticed a great change in our
little girl since she has become a Christian?"
said Mrs. Alton to her husband, as she returned to the sitting-room, where he was busy
over his weekly newspaper.
"I have noticed a very great change," said
he, his eyes still fixed on his paper.
"What do you think of it?" continued
Mrs. Alton seriously.  "You know you and I
have never had much faith in religion."
" It puzzles me," answered Mr. Alton, as he
laid by his paper.  "I am afraid we have not
done our duty by the child.  We have been a
hinderance to her when we should have been
a help."
Mr. Alton especially had reason for reflection. He had opposed Kittie seriously at the
time she united with the church, giving his
consent only after the child's most earnest




A JOYFUL EVENT.             187
entreaty.  Then, he well knew that his constant indifference towards the struggles of her
new life must be very disheartening, not to
speak of his unkind answer to her in the afternoon.
" Don't you think it is time for us to lead a
new life? " inquired Mrs. Alton, after a pause.
"It would be a terrible thing to lay stumblingblocks in our child's way."
" You  are  right.  God only knows our
responsibility. We dare not treat it lightly.
This has troubled me for the last few  days
more than I can tell."
"I fear we have been too easily satisfied in
our doubts as to Christianity. It is an awful
question, and should have the most careful
and serious attention."
"I must confess, where I thought I saw
objections without number, there now appears
to be none. Evidently the difficulty has been
in our hearts."




188        SNAIL-SFIELL HARBOR.
A  long and serious conversation followed,
and the husband and wife discovered in each
other the deepest religious conviction.  They
could not retire that night without prayer;
but who was to pray?  Each asked the other
to do so, but both refused. All their life they
had neglected that duty, and now it seemed
impossible to begin.
If the  unconverted  would  know  how
estranged they are from  God, let them  try
to pray.
"I do not know who can pray for us tonight, unless it be Kittle," said Mrs. Alton.
The little girl was called up at midnight, to
pray with her father and mother.  Kneeling
down between them, in her snowy night-robe,
and folding her hands devoutly, she prayed
out of a full heart.  With many tears Mr.
and Mrs. Alton followed, and, making a full
consecration, rose conscious of the new life in
Christ.




A JOYFUL EVENT.            189
It was a glorious night to the little family
and, no doubt, angels in heaven rejoiced with
Kittie, as she embraced now her father and
now her mother, mingling her tears of joy
with theirs over their new-found hope.
NI




CHAPTER XXI.
Objections Mel.
(HE  conversion of Mr. and Mrs.
Alton made a great sensation in the
\ i   community.   Mr. Alton's position
AT:  was such, that the very fact of his
becoming religious was influential; and the
change in his life was so great, as  to be
remarked by every one.
Dr. Sprague especially was moved by this
unlooked-for event. Seldom is the life of two
men more closely connected, than his and Mr.
Alton's had been, since their acquaintance at
the harbor.  They were the chief managers
of the business of the company, were similar
190




OBJECTIONS MET.           191
in their sentiments, tastes, and habits, for the
most part had been cut off from intercourse
with their own class in society, and had become
very strongly attached to each other. When
Mr. Alton became a new man in heart and
life, and seemed to enter into a new world, the
doctor felt as if he were left alone.
He seldom  spoke of matters of religion.
Scarcely any one knew his sentiments on the
subject. But, as far as his thoughts had gone,
he was decidedly skeptical. He acknowledged
the change in Mr. Alton, however, and was
anxious to have a confidential talk with him,
but hesitated to make the beginning.  Mr.
Alton was quite as anxious to talk with him,
but, somehow, could open his heart more easily
to almost any one else.
Several days passed before the subject vas
broken between them. But the matter had
grown into a sense of responsibility with Mr.
Alton, and he determined to do his duty.




192        SNAIL-SIIELL HARBOR.
"Take a seat, doctor. I want to have a
private talk with you," said he one morning,
as the doctor came into his office.
"At your service, sir," replied the doctor
with his usual air of pleasantry, as he took the
easy-chair in the corner, while Mr. Alton closed
the door.
" I am  exceedingly  anxious for you to
become a Christian," said the latter, as he took
his seat directly in front of his friend.
" My mind is full of doubts and objections
on the subject of Christianity," answered the
doctor calmly, but with decision.
" Just as mine used to be. And, be assured,
no one can ever remove them for you. Somehow, mere arguments, however logical, fail to
bring the mind to a conclusion.  When you
are overwhelmed by them, you may seem to
bury your doubts; but in the hour of calm
reflection they will rise again.  Moral and
religious questions are too much for the mere




OBJECTIONS MET.              193
intellect to settle. Personal experience alone
is conclusive."
"Do you mean that all argument, even for
the purpose of honest inquiry, is useless? "
"In a certain sense, it is not.  The truths
of Christianity have nothing to lose by discussion.   There are evidences which none can
deny.  But the difficulty, in unbelief, lies far
below the reach of mere reason.  It is in the
affections, in the will, in the heart.  So long
as that is held in reserve, all is darkness. But,
if any one will do the will of God, he shall
know  concerning the doctrine."
"That  doesn't  do  much  for a  man's
stumbling-blocks," rejoined the doctor with a
smile.
"Very true.  And you can put to me a
hundred objections against Christianity, which
I cannot answer; yet there is within me a
consciousness of its reality, which it is impossible to disturb. I know the truth of religion
13




194        SNAIL-SIIELL HARBOR.
as I know my life. It is a matter of experience."
Somehow the doctor felt uneasy under the
conversation, and rose to leave.
"Think of this matter, doctor," urged Mr.
Alton. " You cannot afford to pass it by."
The doctor went to his home much dissatisfied with the position taken by Mr. Alton.
Why should he thus shut off all his skeptical
inquiries?  Was it not the part of Christian
duty to solve them.
No sooner had he entered the house than he
broached the subject to Miss Elliot.
" In some respects," said he, " it seems to
me Alton's religion has not done much for
him."
" How is that?" replied Miss Elliot.
"He refuses attention to a single difficulty
in religious doctrine."
" That is not strange. When first converted,
one cares but little for argument. Every thing




OBJECTIONS MET.             195
is life. Besides, argument can do but little for
those who have no experience.  But what are
your questions? "
"Why is there so much hypocrisy among
professors of religion?"
" Why  is  there  so  much  counterfeit
money?" added Miss Elliot.
The doctor was silent.
" Because of the value of genuine money,"
replied Miss Elliot, in answer to her own question.  " Who cares to counterfeit that which
is of no value? Viewed from the right standpoint, hypocrisy is itself an argument for the
truth of religion. But it is quite possible to
exaggerate the faults of professors of Christianity."
"I can find those outside the church that
are better than many who are in it," rejoined
the doctor.
" Certainly. It would be strange if it were
not so. But how do you make your compari



196        SNAAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
son? You take the best man you can find out
of the church, and compare him with the worst
one you can find in it. Is that fair?  Besides,
what would your best man out of the church
have been, had it not been for the influence of
that high moral sentiment which the world has
received through the church? Then, perhaps,
you begin your investigation of character with
a slight prejudice which works like a spy-glass.
You look through it one way, and the virtues
of the man of the world are magnified: you
turn it around, and those of the Christian professor are diminished."
"Why are there so many religious sects?"
continued the doctor.
" There are no more sects in religion than
there are in the sciences; and it may be doubted
if the disputes of theologians have ever been
as sharp as those of philosophers.  Even the
profession of medicine has about as many sects
as the church.  Nothing  is more common
among men than difference of opinion."




OBJECTIONS MET.            197
"Is it easy for you to believe in the miracles
of the Bible?"
"Is it easy for you to believe there is a
God?"
"I cannot doubt the existence of a God,"
replied the doctor. " To my mind, this world
must have a cause; and it is so full of means
to ends, of intelligent design, that I am compelled to believe in a personal First Cause.
Moreover, my conscience teaches me, that I am
constituted under law, under a Supreme Lawgiver. I should think a man either simple or
obstinate who did not believe in a God."
" Does it seem  reasonable, that that God,
in whom you are compelled to believe, should
reveal himself to his creatures? - should comnunicate with his children?"
"Certainly."
" How  could he have  done  it without
miracles?"
A puzzled smile was the only reply the doctor could make.




198        SNAIL-SHELL UIARBOR.
" A messenger from God to men must need
perform  miracles,"  continued  Miss  Elliot,
"not to prove his doctrine, but to prove his
authority as a teacher,- to commend himself to
the world as Christ commended himself to the
common sense of Nicodemus, when that ruler
said,' We know that thou art a teacher come
from God; for no man can do these miracles
that thou doest, except God be with him."
"Is not a miracle contrary to nature? "
"I do not see that it is.  It is something
more than nature, - something added to it,
but not necessarily contrary to it. And, if you
believe in a God of unlimited power, miracles
are not unreasonable.  He who is the author
of the great system of nature should be able
to lay his hand upon it, and control it at his
will,- should be able to manifest power above
and beyond its laws, just as a watchmaker
should be able to interfere with his watch, and
move it forward and backward as he saw fit."




OBJECTIONS MET.            199
"What about the  contradictions of the
Bible?"
"Are you sure there are any?"
"Certainly.  I met a man at Escanada, the
other day, who had a small pamphlet full of
them."
" Indeed!  Can  you  remember any  of
them?"
" In the sixth chapter of Galatians is a contradiction, with  only  two  verses  between.
One passage says,' Bear ye one another's
burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ:' the
other says,'Every man shall bear his own
burden.'"
" Those passages may both be true, without
the least contradiction.  A careful reading will
show that'burden' has a different meaning
in the two passages. In the first, it signifies
fault, or weakness.  Bear with one another's
faults, or weaknesses. In the second, it means
accountability.  Every one must bear his own




200        SINAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
accountability.    I don't see much contradiction there.  Is there any other?"' Yes.  In  one place, the  command  is,'Honor thy father and thy mother;' in another,'Husbands love your wives, and be not bitter
against them.' And yet Jesus Christ says,'If
any man come to me, and hate not his father
and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he
cannot be my disciple.'"
"Here is not a contradiction, but a comparison,-a comparison expressed in hyperbolical language, common enough anywhere, but
especially  familiar to  the  Orientals.   Our
Saviour's discourses are full of it.  No one
loves his father, mother, wife, children, &c., as
truly as does the Christian.  His religious experience elevates and purifies all the sanctities
of life; but his love for Christ is so much
greater than all other affections, that, compared with it, they are as mere hatred.  The




OBJECTIONS MET.             201
last part of Christ's saying explains the rest.
No sane person ever hated his own life.  The
martyrs loved their lives in the best sense; but
so supreme was their love for Christ, that it
was as if they hated their own life."
" What about the manner of Christ's death?"
continued the doctor, fully routed fiom every
position he had taken. " Do you think he really
sweat blood? "
" That is an interesting question to you, as a
physician; and  the  investigation  of it has
thrown much light on the New  Testament.
Luke is the only evangelist who gives an account of Christ's bloody sweat in the garden
of Gethsemane.  He was a physician; and, on
examination, it is found that the account is
given in the most scientific terms. Dr. Stroud,
a celebrated English physician, has written a
thorough work  on the death of Christ, in
which he takes special note of its physiological
facts. It is a learned production, and fully




202         SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
justifies  the  sacred  narrative.   Through a
friend of mine, I have procured notes from it,
which I think I can find in a few minutes; and
I shall be glad to read them to you."
"Please do so," said the doctor: "that is a
very interesting subject."
Miss Elliot soon found the notes, and read as
follows: * "' One of the principal corporeal effects of the exciting passions is palpitation, or
vehement action, of the heart; and it will now
be shown, that, when this action is intense, it
produces bloody sweat, dilatation, and ultimately
rupture of the heart.   By those acquainted
with the structure and functions of the animal
frame, such results might readily be anticipated.  Perspiration, both sensible and insensible, takes place from the mouths of small regularly-organized tubes, which perforate the skin
in all parts of the body, terminating in blind
extremities  internally, and  by  innumerable
* Dr. Stroud's Death of Christ, pp. 85, 86, 87, 88.




OBJECTIONS MET.              203
orifices on the outer surface. These tubes are
surrounded by a network of minute vessels,
and penetrated by the ultimate ramifications of
arteries which, according to the force of the
local circulation, depending chiefly on that of
the heart, discharge either the watery parts of
the blood in the state of vapor, its grosser ingredients in the form of a glutinous liquid, or,
in extreme cases, the entire blood itself. The
influence of the invigorating passions, more
especially in exciting an increased flow of blood
to the skin, is familiarly illustrated by the process of blushing, either from shame or anger;
for during this state the heart beats strongly,
the surface of the body becomes hot and red,
and, if the emotion is very powerful, breaks out
into a warm  and copious perspiration, -the
first step towards a bloody sweat.' "
" That theory is very good as far as the bloody
sweat is concerned," said the doctor.  " The
points are well taken as to the relation of the




204        SNAIL-SHIELL HARBOR.
small blood-vessels to the pores of the body,
through which perspiration takes place. But
what about the historical facts of the case?
Has an incident of bloody sweat ever been
found? "
Miss Elliot read, "' The eminent French
historian, De Thou, mentions the case of "an
Italian  officer who  commanded  at MonteMaro, a fortress of Piedmont, during the war
in 1552, between Henry II. of France and the
Emperor, Charles V.  This officer having been
treacherously seized by order of the hostile
general, and threatened with public execution
unless he  surrendered  the place, was  so
agitated at the prospect of an ignominious
death  that he sweated  blood  from  every
part of his body."  The same writer relates
a similar occurrence in the person of a young
Florentine at Rome, unjustly put to death by
order of Pope Sixtus V., in the beginning of
his reign; and concludes the narrative as fol.




OBJECTIONS MET.            205
lows: " When the youth was led forth to execution, he excited the commiseration of many;
and, through excess of grief, was observed to
shed  bloody tears, and  to discharge blood
instead of sweat from his whole body, - a circumstance which many regarded as a certain
proof that nature condemned the severity of a
sentence so cruelly hastened, and invoked vengeance against the magistrate himself, as therein guilty of the murder." Amongst several examples, given in " The German Ephemerides,"
of bloody tears and bloody sweat occasioned by
extreme fear, more especially the fear of death,
may be mentioned that of " a young boy, who,
having taken part in a crime for which two of
his elder brothers were hanged, was exposed to
public view under the gallows on which they
were executed, and was thereupon observed to
sweat blood from his whole body."
"' In his commentaries on the four Gospels,
Maldonato refers to " a robust and healthy man




206        SNAIL-SHELL IARBOR.
at Paris, who, on hearing sentence of death
passed on him, was covered with a bloody
sweat."  Schench cites from a martyrology the
case of " a nun who fell into the hands of soldiers; and, on seeing herself compassed with
swords and daggers, threatening instant death,
was so terrified and agitated that she discharged
blood from every part of her body, and died
of hemorrhage in the sight of her assailants."
And Tissot reports from a respectable journal,
that of " a sailor who was so alarmed by a
storm, that, through fear, he fell down; and his
face sweated blood, which, during the whole
continuance of the storm, returned like ordinary
sweat as fast as it was wiped away."' "
" That is exceedingly interesting, and quite
satisfactory," said the doctor.  " What does
your author say to the blood and water which
came from the side of Christ when the soldier
pierced him, just before he was taken down
from the cross? "




OBJECTIONS MET.             20T
" He first gives the physiological theory of
the phenomena, and then cites well-authenticated cases of death by rupture of the heart,
which are shown to be illustrative of Christ's
death."
"That is exactly to the point. Let us hear
it."
Miss Elliot read  again, *"'The  actions
of the heart, which are maintained during the
whole of life with admirable energy and regularity, are liable to be deranged by various
causes, and particularly by the passions of the
mind.  It is observed by Baron Haller, the
father of modern physiology, that " excessive
grief occasions palpitation, and sometimes sudden death; that the corporeal effects of anger
and terror are nearly alike, including increased
strength and violent motions, both in the heart
and throughout the body, and producing bloody
sweats and other kinds of hsemorrhage..
* Dr. Stroud's Death of Christ, page 76.




208        SVAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Fear and terror are powerful causes, especially
when they seize suddenly.  In that case, the
nerves act with violence on the heart, and
derange the order of its movements.  The
blood is at the same time propelled in these
passions by a general shock, or commotion of
all the parts of the body: it therefore necessarily accumulates in the two trunks of the vence
cavce (the large veins which return the blood
to tie heart), rushes into the auricles (the upper
chambers of the heart), and overcharges tlem,
as well as the ventricle (the lower chambers
of the heart).' *...' The immediate cause
(of rupture of the heart) is a sudden and
violent contraction of one of the venticles,
usually  the left, on  the column  of blood
thrown into it by a similar contraction cf
the corresponding auricle.t  Prevented  from
returning backwards by the intervening valve,
and not finding a sufficient outlet forwards in
* Page 88.           t Page 77.




OBJECTIONS MET.              209
the connected artery, the blood re-acts against
the ventricle itself, which is consequently torn
open at the point of greatest distension, or least
resistance, by its own reflected force.  A qualtity of blood is hereby discharged into the
pericardium; * and, having no means of escape
from  that capsule, stops the  circulation  by
compressing  the  heart  from   without, and
induces almost instantaneous death. In young
and vigorous subjects, the blood thus collected
in the pericardium soon divides itself into its
constituent parts, namely, a pale, watery liquid
called serum, and a soft, clotted substance of a
deep red color, termed crassamentum."
"So much for the general explanation of the
fact of the rupture of the heart," said Miss
Elliot. " I will now give you the cases cited
from good authorities."
t "Dr. Fischer, a German, furnishes the
following:'A gentleman, aged sixty-eight, and
* A sack in which the heart is enclosed.    t Page 97.
14




210        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
apparently possessing every claim to long life,
after having spent many years at court, was
compelled to quit it, and retire to a country
residence.... Towards the close of life, his
attention was occupied by an unpleasant business, which, interfering with the indulgence of
his propensity for solitude, had the effect of
aggravating  his melancholy.   On  the 16th
of October, 1817, he was seized, whilst walking,
with a severe pain, which he supposed to be
cramp  at the  stomach.   This pain, after
returning repeatedly, attended with violent
agitation and agony, proved fatal on the evening of the twentieth.  On examination of the
body after death, the only morbid condition of
any importance was rupture of the heart.'
"Mr. Townsend of New York says,' An
unfortunate female of this city, literally and
truly died of a broken heart, as was found on
dissection; and there was every reason  to
believe that this consummation of her misery




OBJECTIONS MET.            211
was the unavoidable consequence of her exquisite dejection of mind at that particular monient.  Slie was twenty-two years of age,
robust, and  long  addicted  to dissolute and
intemperate habits.  For some time previously
to her decease, she had complained only of
slight, and apparently rheumatic pains; but,
within a day or two of the fatal event, she
had been deserted by a man to whom sle was
engaged in marriage. In consequence of this,
her mind became very deeply affected. After
having supped on the preceding night, she
retired to rest as usual, and in the morning was
found (lead in bed. On dissection, the sac of
the pericardium was found filled with about
ten ounces of coagulated blood, and two of
serum.  The breach in the heart was irregular
and lacerated, and about half an inch in diameter.'  Dr. Williams of Southampton gives
the following account:' R. W., a laborer,
aged fifty-six years, had generally enjoyed




212        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
good health; but for ten years had suffered
great despondency of mind, owing to domestic
trouble. About six months before his death,
he was troubled with a severe cough, which
came on in paroxysms, generally at night and
early in the morning; and, after a fit of this
kind, was found one morning dead. A postmortem examination took place in the presence
of Mr. Boulton, surgeon, of Leamington.  On
opening the chest, the bag of the pericardium
appeared much distended with fluid, and was
of a dark blue color. On cutting into it, a
pint, at least, of transparent serum issued out,
leaving the. crassamentum firmly attached to the
anterior surface of the heart.  On further
examination, the heart was found to be ruptured.'  The following case, related by Mr.
Adams, is  remarkably  similar:'Thomas
Treacher, forty-six years of age, a stout, muscular working-man, who had labored  many
years under great mental anxiety, was attacked




OBJECTIONS MET.            213
with severe cardiac symptoms on Sunday evening, November the 5th, 1826; and, after great
agony of body and mind, died on November
the 9th.  The pericardium was found distended,
and, when divided, emitted a quantity of serous
fluid; but the heart was entirely concealed by
an envelope of coagulated blood in three distinct layers, owing to rupture  of the left
ventricle.' "
"That is intensely interesting," said the
doctor, as Miss Elliot laid her manuscript on
the  table.   "Where  did you get those
notes? "
" A  friend of mine copied them  from Dr.
Stroud's work on the death of Christ, which is
in the library of the late and celebrated Dr.
Neander.  The library is now in the Theological Seminary of Rochester, N.Y. It' was
there my friend took these notes. Dr. Stroud's
work is one of great authority, but is now out
of print. My notes are a mere selection from




214         SNAIL-SHELL IARBOR.
it.  It contains  well-authenticated  cases of
bloody sweat, and death by rupture of the
heart, among the Greeks, Latins, Germans,
French, and in Scotland, England, and America.  In  all, they would make  a fair-sized
volume."
" I just now recall," said the doctor, " that,
during my course of lectures at the medical
college, this matter was referred to by the
professors; but somehow I never thought of it
in connection with the death of Christ.  It
would seem, that, in that case, science confirms
the New-Testament narrative."
"Certainly; and  there  are  many  other
cases in which modern science is confirming
the statements of the Word of God.  It is
certainly instructive to compare the facts just
read with the Gospel narrative of the death
of Christ.  His life was one of sadness: for he
bore our griefs, and carried our sorrows; and
there was laid on him the iniquity of us all.




OBJECTIOVNS MET.           215
During his last night on earth, while in the
Garden of Gethsemane, his life-long suffering
was approaching its climax.  He began to be
sorrowful and very heavy; and exclaimed to
his disciples,'My soul is exceeding sorrowful
unto death.'  Now  he came into full consciousness of the wretched condition of our
fallen human nature, of the evil and demerit
of sin, of the infinite opposition of the divine
holiness and justice to it, and of the necessary
wrath of God against it.  Then he fell with
his face upon the earth; and his sweat was as
it were great drops of blood, falling down to
the ground, his agony being so great that he
prayed the Father, if possible, to let the cup
pass from him. It would seem that here his
life would have ended, had there not appeared
an angel from heaven, strengthening him.  On
the  cross, his  anguish  was  renewed, and
reached its dreadful crisis. He cried out with
a loud voice,' My God, my God! why hast




216       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
thou forsaken me?' He was left alone to
bear up under his burden of unmitigated woe.
This was too terrible for nature to support:
it literally broke his heart."
"You think he died from mental anguish,
rather than from  bodily wounds?" said the
doctor.
" It is difficult to understand why he should
have died so soon, if his death had been merely
from  bodily exhaustion. He seems to have
died before the thieves who were crucified
with him; and Pilate wondered at the early
announcement of his death. It would also be
difficult to account for the blood and water
which issued from his side, when the soldier
pierced him, if he did not die of rupture of
the heart."
The conversation ended. All was quiet for
a few moments; Miss Elliot having resumed
her sewing, and the doctor being absorbed in
thought.  Presently he rose and went out,




OBJECTIONS MET.              217
confused  by the  clearness  of  Miss Elliot's
reasoning against his objections to Christianity;
his intellect having been carried by the force
of logic, but his heart all unyielding.
Miss Elliot's thoughts went up to God for
him in prayer; and she felt a fresh consciousness of hope, that the desire of her heart was
not in vain.




CHAPTER XXII.
_Dr. Sprague's Conversion.
N  the following evening was
the beginning of a series of daily
meetings, held by the Christians at
the harbor.  The attendance was
large; and Dr. Sprague had left an unusual
press of business, in order to be present.  He
had a peculiar interest in every part of the
exercise, but more especially in the words of
an aged and familiar personage, who rose to
speak near the close of the meeting, in a
farther corner of the room. In that tall and
noble figure, bent over with years, those flow218




DR. SPRAGUE'S CONVERSION.    219
ing locks and beard of snowy whiteness, and
that voice, tremulous with age and emotion,
he recognized an old and venerable acquaintance. Father Wilson, a citizen of his former
place of residence, and father-in-law of Mr.
Alton, having heard the good news of the
conversion of his daughter and her husband,
had come to rejoice with them.
There was something commanding in his
personal appearance; and so touching were his
words, that the audience listened with almost
breathless attention.  He thanked God for
what had been done at the harbor, gave a
personal testimony of the truth of the Christian religion from his own life, and, with large
tears rolling down his cheeks, put his question
to  the  unconverted  of the  congregation,
Where will you spend your eternity?"
"Can you doubt the reality of Father Wilson's  Christian  experience?"  Miss  Elliot
inquired of the doctor, as soon as they had




220        SNAIL-SHIELL IARBOR.
returned home.  " Do you think it is possible
for him  to be deluded as to the truth of
religion?"
"The old gentleman seems very sincere;
and he has lived a noble life," replied the
doctor.
" Of him, it may truly be said in the judgment,'I was an hungred, and ye gave me
meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I
was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked,
and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited
me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.'
He has cared for many of the least of Christ's
little ones, and has lavished his kindnesses on
the needy of all classes.  While he was speaking, I could but wonder how you would reply
to him."
"With argument, one can meet argument;
with sophistry, one cal meet sophistry: but
when a man speaks from such a heart and such
a life, who that has no heart nor life to cor.
respond shall be able to answer? "




DR. SPRAGUE'S CONVERSION.        221
This much the doctor's natural candor compelled him to say.  In vain might he search
among men of the world  for an  equal to
Father Wilson.  He had known him  ever
since he could remember; and though he had
reason to believe him human, in common with
the rest of his fellows, his was a sanctified
human nature, far above the highest of what
the world calls morality.
The doctor retired to rest, but could not
dismiss his thoughts.  What if religion were
true after all! and certainly his reasons for
doubting it were fast melting away.  How
terrible must be the condition of him who
turns a deaf ear to its claims!  If it were
any thing, it was every thing; and no one
could afford to trifle with it.  How criminal
seemed his own indifference during all his life 
Eternity! Who could doubt it? and where
was he to spend it?  But his mind was dark,
his heart was cold, and it seemed impossible
to get rid of his doubts.




'22        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
The next morning, he rose with a faint
breath of prayer in  his heart, "Lord, if
religion be true, make me to know it in my
own experience."
Several days passed; and the anxiety increased hourly.  The first feeble desire had
become an agony.  The whole soul was being
roused from its slumbers of a life-time, and
was amazed and alarmed at a sense of its condition.  The doctor felt that his whole being
was out of harmony, that his spiritual nature
was perishing with hunger, that his whole life
had been one of ingratitude and sin. Only a
few days befbre, he would have prided himself
in his morality: now  what deeds he once
thought virtuous seemed but refined forms of
selfishness, - whited sepulchres, beautiful without, but within full of all uncleanness.
It was Saturday night; and, though three
days and nights of distress had passed, he had
opened his heart to no one.  Now he deter



DR. SPRAGUE'S CONVERSION.    223
mined to make known his feelings to Miss
Elliot, and to ask her sympathy and prayers.
"I must ask a favor of you," said he to her,
after trying several hours to summon courage
to mention the matter. " I need your prayers.
I have spent my life as if there were no God,
have trifled with religious convictions, and
trampled on the blocod of the Son of God."
Miss Elliot was not altogether surprised at
this frank confession of the doctor. She knew
his nature, and had read his anxious thoughts
in his countenance and in his actions.
" My prayers are but feeble," she replied;
"but nothing in all the world could give me
such pleasure as to comply with your request."
They kneeled down, and she led in prayer;
after which the doctor followed, in language
as simple as that of a little child, and with
many tears.  Seldom, indeed, is a man so
wholly  broken  down  in  penitence  before
God.




224        SNAIL-SHELL EARBOR.
"I have made my will," said he to Miss
Elliot, as they rose from their knees.
Miss Elliot was puzzled.  What could he
mean?  She looked at him with a vague look
of inquiry.
"Don't be perplexed," said he.  "I'm in
my right mind. I simply mean that I have
yielded up all to God, - soul, body, and property, - every thing.  Henceforth, I hope to
have no will but his, - to hold nothing as my
own."
"Thank  God! "  exclaimed Miss  Elliot.
" The great transaction is done. Continue in
simple trust, and all shall be well."
The doctor retired. He was in no ecstasy;
but Christ had spoken peace to his troubled
heart, and there was a great calm. He slept a
sweet and dreamless sleep, and waked to see
the happiest morning of his life. The sun had
just risen, and was pouring a flood of golden
light through his chamber-window.  "What




DR. SPRAGUE'S CONVERSION.    225
has Christ done for me? " was his first thought.
Ah! truly, life is a world  of beauty; and
that life crowned with  loving-kindness and
tender mercies, but, above all, spiritual life in
Christ, eternal life through heaven's greatest
sacrifice, -all this was his as a gift.  So
tender and delightful were his meditations that
he wept for joy.
That  Sabbath,  the  first  day  of  Dr.
Sprague's new life, was indeed a happy one;
not only on account of the joyful experience it
brought, but as the earnest and emblem of that
Sabbath of rest which is eternal.
16




CHAPTER XXIII.
s.' House of' Worship.
~          U.UM MMER and autumn had passed
t1  aaway, and the cold storms of winter
s    had fully set in.  The new converts
) had been added to the church, and
greatly increased the moral force in the community; for they carried their enterprise into
their religion.  The  temporary log sclloolhouse had also served the purpose of a place
of worship, but was very crowded, and not at
all convenient: so it was decided to put up a
building that should accommodate  both the
school and the church.  An admirable plan
of a building was got up by Mr. Alton and the
226




A HO USE OF WORSHIP.          227
doctor, which was to contain two apartments, -
the front being the chapel for church  and
Sunday school, and the rear a suite of rooms
for the common school, which had now become
so large as to require several departments.
Mr. Alton had secured the interest of the
iron company in the prqject, and the whole
community was contributing liberally: so it
was hoped that early the next spring they
would be able to enter the new building.  And
this hope was daily strengthened, as timber,
stone, and  the various material necessary,
gradually accumulated about the site chosen
for  the  enterprise.   Besides, Mr.  Alton
frequently announced  that the  whole plan
was moving on without hinderance.




CHAPTER XXIV.
AX  Strange accident.
LL men think all men mortal but
themselves."  That saying is espe~~v    cially true of those who are least
prepared for death.  There was
not a child at the harbor who would not have
pointed out Sandy as the wickedest man in the
place, so well was he known as unscrupulous, profane, and selfish. If Death were considerate of men's preparation for the next
world, or took into account their desire to
depart, surely he would have been the last one
summoned from that community; but he was
the first victim of the King of Terrors.
228




A STRANGE ACCIDENT.          229
Mr. Alton had given him permission to cut
down a favorite tree belonging to the iron
company, for the purpose of repairing his boat.
At a certain time, Sandy had felled the tree;
but, in falling, it had left a limb hanging high
in the top of a neighboring tree, and directly
over the spot where he must work up the log
before moving it. He spied the danger, and
left his work, thinking that ere long some
favoring wind would remove it.  Frequently
he went to the place, hoping to secure the
much-desired stick of timber, but as often was
warned away by the threatening limb still
hanging in the air. Again and again the boat
had been temporarily repaired, until a year
had passed.
Now Sandy felt secure.  Tile limb that had
hung so long would still hang while he could
secure the tree he so much desired. Vain
hope. That limb was the appointed instrument of his death. He had scarcely struck




230        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
the first blow on the felled tree which had so
long waited for him, wlien a light breeze,a mere breath, compared with the storms that
had rocked those woods in the year that had
passed-dislodged the fatal bough, and Sandy
received his death-blow.
He was found senseless, but after a time
came to himself; and, notwithstanding  the
severe fracture of his head, continued rational
for several days, when  the pale messenger
numbered him with " the silent multitude."
He was discovered soon after the accident,
and carried to his house.  It was evident to
all that he had but a short time to live; and
there was scarcely a person at the harbor so
wholly regardless of eternity as not to tremble
for his future.
Sandy, however, scarcely uttered  a word
beside his brief account of the way in which
the accident had occurred; and, when Mr.
Harris called to do the part of a Christian




A STRANGE ACCIDENT.          231
minister in such a sad case, he refused to
answer a single question, or hold any conversation whatever.  In fact, scarcely any one
was tolerated at his bedside but Mr. Williams.
Two days had passed, and it was evident
that the sufferer could not hold out much
longer.  Mr. Williams had stood by him ever
since he had been carried home, longing to
point him to the better land, and to Him who
is " The Way, the Truth, and the Life."  At
length the opportunity came. Sandy's quiet
must not be mistaken for thoughtlessness.  His
whole life was before him, and he was all
absorbed in reflections.
There was a sharp twinge of pain, and a
deep groan; and he turned over, fixing an
earnest and bewildered look on Mr. Williams,
who bent over him in kindly attention.
" Hark! I has sometin' to say," said he to
Mr. Williams, when he had looked around the
room, and assured himself that no one else




232       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
could hear him. "My life, you know, it's
wicked,   dreadful. I hasn't told no one here;
but I s'pose He knows it," pointing upwards.
"You know what you reads, long time ago? "
Mr. Williams was puzzled to recall what the
speaker referred to.
"Dat first night at my house, you know,
you read from  de holy Book," continued
Sandy.
" Can you remember any thing I read?"
inquired Mr. Williams.
"' Darkness an' light alike to Him," repeated
Sandy with emphasis, as he looked upward
with an expression of awe. "On de sea He
is; a bed in hell, an' on dere He is."
Mr. Williams recognized the imperfect quotations as parts of the hundred and thirtyninth Psalm, which he had read at family
prayers the first night he spent under Sandy's
roof.
Sandy then told him how, at that moment,




A STRANGE ACCIDENT.          233
the psalm had fallen like a flood of light on his
past life, setting forth all his crimes in their
true colors; how that fearful revelation of
himself had followed him ever since; and how
lie feared to cross the dark river alone, not
knowing where his soul would be landed.
Then he beckoned to Mr. Williams to come
still nearer, and with feeble breath, scarcely
above a whisper, gave an outline of his life.
That life was a shocking tale. Born and bred
amidst the lowest vices of a European city, he
had chosen a sea-faring life as a pirate; and
Mr. Williams's blood chilled at the accounts of
robbery and murder in which he had been partaker.
" Does you believe He'll have mercy on one
dat's done de likes of sich?" inquired the
dying man, with a terrified look that pierced
Mr. Williams to the heart.
"When Christ was put to death on the
cross," said Mr. Williams, " two robbers were




234        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
crucified with him, - the one at his right hand,
the other at his left. As they hung on their
crosses, their living flesh nailed to the wood,
the one all unconscious of the guilt of his life,
as he writhed and shrieked under his tortures,
railed at the Son of God in language of bitter
contempt. The other, filled with bitter sorrow
for his sins, and convinced of the innocency of
Christ, and of his divine nature, said,' Lord
when thou comest into thy kingdom, remember me.' Jesus had compassion on him, and
answered,'To-day shalt thou be with me in
Paradise.'  Such is Christ's salvation. Even
in that last hour, the vilest sinner was made a
saint."
"May I hope, den?"
"Certainly, if you will but trust."
"Only trust? "
" Only trust.  That is all God asks of the
worst of men; and the best can do no more."
Mr. Williams saw that Sandy could speak




A STRANGE ACCIDENT.          235
but few words more.  His eyes were glassy,
the cold sweat of death was on his brow, and
the beating of his heart began to falter. Every
effort was made to point the dying man to the
Lamb of God.  The family was called in to
receive his last words, - words of warning,
feebly and brokenly uttered; and, in a few
minutes, the spirit had departed to  "That
undiscovered country from  whose bourn no
traveller returns."




CHAPTER XXV.
What Hfope?
HAT  hope is there?"  inquired
i    Mr. Harris, as he entered  the
death-chamber, just after the body
had been laid out.
" It is difficult to say," replied Mr. Williams,
as he made the last effort to close the sightless
eyes.  "He seemed to trust in the Saviour;
but it was so near his last breath, that it was
scarcely possible to discern the effect on his
consciousness."
"Charity hopeth all things," continued Dr.
Sprague, who, in company with Mr. Williams,
236




WHAT HOPE?              237
had dressed for the last time those wounds
against whose fatal power he had striven so
faithfully from the first.  " Happily, we are not
called on to sit in council on the future appointments of the dead. I hope with all my heart
that it is well with Sandy; but the result of
my observation of sick-bed repentances has
not been very  flattering.   Through  many
years of medical practice, I have been accustomed to note the persons supposed to be on
a death-bed, and  to have repented in the
eleventh hour, but that afterwards recovered;
and, out of more than threescore, only three
have, as far as I can judge, given evidence
of a new life."
"For that reason." added Mr. Harris, "I
say but little of the dead on funeral occasions.
In very many cases, the hope of friends for the
departed rests on some circumstance of the
death-chamber rather than on  living piety.
To extol such a hope is to encourage men to




238        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
neglect religion in life, and to trust to the
uncertain emotions of a sick-bed. Moreover,
to magnify the scanty virtues of the dead is
unnecessary. If their life has been noble and
faithful, that life has written its own history in
the  hearts of the people, on tablets more
enduring than monuments of marble; and, if
life has been a failure, no eloquence of a
funeral oration can change the facts."
" I regret that I was not here when Sandy
died," continued Dr. Sprague.  "I think I
have discovered a fact concerning death which
I should like to have tested in his case. Long
observation has convinced me, that there are
two ways in which people die.  There seems
to be a point in the trying hour where the
individual discovers his destiny.  In  some
cases, it is much clearer than in others. At
that point, some desire to go forward, others to
come back. The former I have observed to
be the Christian, the latter the sinner."




WHAT HOPE?               239
"  ow strange that you were not a Christian long ago, doctor!" said Mr. Harris.
"When the heart is unwilling to submit to
the truth, external evidences are readily set
aside," replied the doctor.
All that was possible had been done for the
deceased and his family; and our friends separated, thankful that the judgment of all men
is committed to an infinitely just and merciful
God.




CHAPTER XXVI.
Yhe Funeral, and,what F ollowed.
lj     ANDY'S funeral was an impor~1 r tant event at the harbor. Though
not influential, circumstances had rendered him a person of note. He was
the oldest resident, had always occupied some
public place, and was wholly unlike any other
man both in personal appearance and in character. Scarcely any one else in all the community would have been  so much  missed
alike by old and young.
There was no hearse to bear away his remains, no long procession of carriages to follow
him. The coffin was placed on a bier, and
240




THE FUNERAL, ANYD WHAT FOLLOWED. 241
borne on the shoulders of four men, while the
four oldest men in the village served as pallbearers; and nearly the whole town accompanied the widow and her family to the grave
a-foot.
On the lofty elevation that overlooked the
harbor from the main-land, and could be seen
for many miles out upon the lake, was selected
a spot of ground for a graveyard, - that second residence for every community, - and for
Sandy was made out the first title.
A death in the family! who does not know
its strange and awful influence? How all the
affairs of life are arrested, as if by a sudden
shock, until the gates of death open to receive
the one who goes out from  us to return no
more, leaving the circle broken, the relations
of the household in ghastly ruin, and hearts
bleeding and torn.  How sadly, almost hopelessly, do we betake ourselves to adjust the shattered remnants of home, to provide for the
16




242        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
breaches that are irreparable, and to meet the
routine of daily life as a stern matter of fact!
Sandy's widow had long been the victim of
care and sorrow; and, through the years of
darkness and of storm, she had been trying to
bear her burden alone. Now she resolved to
cast it on the Lord.
It was the first evening after the funeral.
The widow  and her children were gathered
about the fireside, and with sad faces, and tones
almost hushed to a whisper, talked of the
mournful event, the shadow of which hung so
darkly over them.
"We must lead a betther life," said the
mother.  "Think how wicked we has been.
None, except Harry, las prayed.  It's high
time we all begins.  Git your good book,
Harry, an' rade a bit."
Harry took down his pocket-Bible, which
Mr. Williams had presented him  soon after
his conversion, and read; after which, at his




THE FUNERAL, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 243
mother's request, he led in prayer.  Then she
followed, and afterward( Tom  and Frank, in
short, broken sentences, and with many tears.
Harry was delighted.  To hear his own
mother's voice in prayer! and to hear Tom
and Frank! How he had longed for it!
" I'm so happy! " he exclaimed, as he rose
from his knees. " God has heard my prayer."
This was truly an era in the household.
The prayers just offered were no mere form,
the result of no mere temporary excitement,
but of tliorough consecration.
How great the change since Mr. Williams's
first night under this roof!  " -le that goeth
forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall
doubtless come again rejoicing, and bringing his
sheaves with him."
f6f" fS^  ^53^




CHAPTER XXVII.
A J.Woble Effort.
HE sincerity of a community in a,~7j    noble cause is to be measured by
(T   its effort.  Mere profession may come
(    from  impulse, or even from  policy;
but solid labor, for that which is benevolent
comes only from conviction.
The Christians at the harbor could afford to
be tried by the standard of work: to this,
every department of spiritual enterprise could
testify.  But the chief object about which
gathered both their thought and labor was the
new house of worship. During all the winter,
244




A NOBLE EFFORT.            245
the work had gone on. When spring opened,
every thing was on the ground, ready to proceed to erecting the building.
It was now early in May, and the building
was already up, and very nearly done outside;
but the community seemed about exhausted.
The members and friends of the church had
repeated their contributions, both in labor and
in money, till it seemed impossible to collect
any thing more; and yet there stood the
building without windows, without plastering,
and without seats; while the old temporary
place of worship was so crowded, and so out of
repair, as to be utterly insufficient and uncomfortable.
What was to be done?  Some of the members were much dlisleartenled, and all were
perplexed. Deacon Forbes, the chairman of
the building committee, was especially blue;
and gave it out, as his opinion, that the work
would have to be abandoned till some more




246        SNAIL-SIELL HARBOR.
favorable time in the future.  "Money had
never been so tirllt since he could remember,"
le said; " and the probability was, that it
would yet be a good deal tighter."  True it
was, that times were especially hard, on account
of the general falling in the market, which
followed high prices during the war; and, as
depression of spirits is very contagious, the
deacon very soon inoculated the older part of
the community.
But there were some brave souls who kept
up their courage in the dark hour.  Mr. Williams, especially, thought he had known times
when God had delivered his people out of even
greater difficulties; and Toodie, whose whole
soul was in the work, declared the church was
not yet as badly off as the children of Israel,
with the mountains on either side of them,
the Red Sea before them, and the armies of
Egypt following up in the rear.
"I believe I see a way to get into the




A NOBLE EFFORT.           247
chapel for worship next Sunday, and of making
it quite comfortable in a few weeks," said Mr.
Williams, on meeting Deacon  Forbes one
Monday morning, when the crowded and inconvenient condition of their place of worship
the Sabbath before was fresh in the deacon's
mind.
"Are you crazy?" inquired the deacon,
eying Mr. Williams half in earnest and half
in joke. " I guess we'd better make out your
papers for the insane asylum."' I know what I say," continued Mr. Williams. "I believe it can be done."
"How? " continued  the deacon  in his
sceptical tone.
"I can get that large front window among
the children: then a few of us can club
together, and get several more.  That will
give sufficient light for the present, and the
rest of the window-places can be filled up till
some future time.  The plastering we can




;48        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
forego for the present. We can get planks or
slabs, and set them up on pins for temporary
seats. The stove can be taken out of our
present place of worship; and some of us can
lend one or two more.  I have one that is
ready for service any time. I'll take the one
in our parlor, and do without a parlor for the
present."
" Ha, ha, ha! " laughed the deacon. " That
sounds just like some of your wild notions,
Brother Williams.  How much do you suppose
you can raise among the children?   That
front window will cost about thirty dollars.
And what will you do with the window-places
till windows can be procured, even admitting
your plan to be a success?"
"As for raising thirty dollars among the
children, I'm willing to try that; and, for the
present, we can stretch cloth across the window-places."
" Very well.  Go ahead, and see what can




A NOBLE EFFORT.             249
be done," added the deacon, as he turned upon
his heel and walked off, with a most sceptical
air.
Mr. Williams's plan was no mere dream:
he had thought it out soberly and with prayer,
and immediately set himself to work to put it
into execution.
When Saturday afternoon came, the deacon,
as well as the rest of his friends, was convinced
that part, at least, of Mr. Williams's plan was
not impracticable.  The  white  cotton-cloth
stretched across several of the window-places
admitted a genial light, and kept out the wind;
while the rest were shut up. The temporary
seats had been arranged according to Mr. Williams's suggestion; and, in addition to his stove
and the one in the schoolhouse, several others
had been brought.  Of all this, and the probable comfort of the place, the deacon was fully
satisfied, as he locked the door about sunset,
and walked down to the store to announce the




250        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
change in the place of worship for the next
Sabbath morning.
Never had Mr. Williams closed a week with
greater satisfaction.  He had found a fresh
illustration of the old proverb, " Where there
is a will, there is a way." And he was learning its philosophy: for he saw, in the first
place, that when one is in earnest in a good
cause, and ready to make sacrifice, he will
find abundant sympathy and help in others,
even in those from whom he would not expect
it; and, in the second place, that "God helps
him who helps himself," and that his resources
are infinite.  He thanked  God, and took
courage.
The sun rose clear and beautiful on Sabbath
morning, and every thing seemed to partake
of the waking-up and the balmy freshness of
spring. To the wise, Nature is full of symbols,
and speaks with many voices; and spring, with
its vigorous germs and budding promises is the




A NOBLE EFFORT.            251
season of hope.  Mr. Williams, so full of
sympathy and devotion, was highly susceptible
of the subtle influences about him; and his
heart welled over with joyful anticipation as
Nature seemed to say, "As the rain cometh
down, and the snow  from  heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth,
and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may
give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my
mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but
it shall accomplish that which I please; and it
shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.
For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth
with peace: the mountains and the hills shall
break forth before you into singing, and all the
trees of the field shall clap their hands."
The change of place for the Sunday school
had become thoroughly known; and, when the
hour arrived, the new building was nearly full.
It was a truly romantic occasion, and every




252        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
one seemed happy over the great step forward that had  been taken.  Mr. Williams
smiled on the teachers, and the teachers smiled
on the children, and the children smiled on
everybody.
Just before the close of sclhool, Mr. Williams brought forward his plan. He rose to
speak with Deacon Forbes right before him,
who was watching every movement with the
utmost curiosity.
"Well, children, how do you like the new
house? " he inquired, with an air so cheerful
and a voice so pleasant that the whole school
could but answer.
"First-rate," chimed a full chorus of voices.
"Well done," added Mr. Williams.  "You
cannot think how happy I am to know you are
pleased.  Very true, the seats are rough and
without backs; but we shall have better by and
bly: the walls, too, are homely; but they will
grow smoother and brighter in time.  What do
you think of the windows?"




A NOBLE EFFORT.             253
"They're pretty cool," called out Carrie
Kimball, a cute little girl of about four years,
who sat near enough to one of the large pieces
of cotton-cloth to testify that it was not proof
against the cold.
" No doubt they are somewhat cool, my
little girl; but they are the best we could do
for to-day.  For the future, however, I think
we can do better. Do you see that large window-place in front?"
Every eye turned in the direction pointed
out.
" I believe the boys and girls of.our Sunday
school can put in that window," continued
the speaker.  " It will cost thirty dollars; and,
as we have a hundred scholars, it will come
to just thirty cents for each.  Who is there
here that cannot earn thirty cents in the next
six weeks?  Remember, we want every child
to earn it.  If the plan can be undertaken,
the factory will put in the window before next




254        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Sunday, and wait the six weeks for their pay.
If the children will put in this window, the,
rest of us will put in some more; and so on,
till they are all in. And what a noble work it
will be! "
Mr. Williams had touched the hearts of the
whole  school.   Every  eye  sparkled with
interest. Such enthusiasm never was seen in
the school before.
"How  many  will undertake  this noble
work?" inquired Mr. Williams.  "As many
as will may hold up their right hands."
Immediately the chapel bristled with eager
little hands. Every right hand went up.
" In order to strengthen your noble resolution, made so generously," said Mr. Williams,' each teacher may act as treasurer for his
class; and, taking down the names and the
amounts to be paid, will hand the money over
to the regular treasurer of the Sunday school
as fast as it may be brought in."




A NOBLE EFFORT.            255
Forthwith the teachers addressed themselves
to the work assigned them, and found every
child ready to do his part.  Some did more
than was required.  Miss Elliot's class was
especially generous.  Some of her boys put
down fifty cents instead of thirty; and Frank
Williams and the young Sandys, who were
leading spirits in the noble little company, put
down a dollar a piece.
Mr. Williams was cheered with the success
of his plan; and the children never had felt so
happy in their lives before.
Every good and noble effort has its influence.
When the children  had got through  their
pledges, Deacon Forbes, whose doubts and
misgivings had all vanished, rose, and proposed
that the teachers and friends of the school
pledge themselves for another window, to be
paid for in six weeks. Immediately the papers
were circulated; and, when the subscriptions
were counted up, instead of one window, the
pledges were sufficient for three.




256       S.VAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
Then Mr. Williams proposed to sing the
doxology; and, when the school dispersed, it
was difficult to tell who carried home the happiest hearts, the old people or the children.
4~gI'A
Y^^




CHAPTER XXVIII.
A Grand Success.
~~.~   HILDREN are an element of
(-' power in a  community.   Their
young natures are not only suscepti(,   ble of impulse and enthusiasm, but
of determination and perseverance. Oft Monday morning, the people at the harbor felt
that a new spirit of enterprise was abroad
among them. All the boys and girls in the
place were looking for work; and their ambition was almost unbounded. Boys of ten and
twelve years, who had never been thought
sufficient for a day's work of any kind, felt
competent for almost any ordinary employ17               257
a




258        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
ment. Little girls, who had never so much as
washed the dishes or swept the kitchen, hired
themselves out for small jobs of washing, bits
of sewing, and nursing babies. It was not
long before every boy and girl in the Sunday
school had found something to do, and was
laying up something for the window. Before
the first week had passed, Mr. Williams was
greeted with many favorable reports. Some
of the boys were driving cows to pasture, for
which they were receiving a cent a day;
others carried warm dinners to men working
in the woods, for which they were paid regularly; others drove teams and made gardens;
while some had special success, and earned ten
or twenty-five cents at a single job. And the
girls were quite as successful as the boys.
They hemmed nearly all the handkerchiefs in
town, sewed rags for carpets, pieced quilts, and
filled little vacancies without number, both in
kitchen  and parlor.  The  community was




A GRAND SUCCESS.           259
astonished at the amount of work the children
could do.
Mr. Williams saw that it was safe to order
the window; and, at the time appointed, it was
paid for.  Of course, the teachers and friends
were equally prompt in fulfilling their pledges;
and, at the end of the six weeks referred to,
all the windows were in the chapel: for Miss
Elliot had canvassed the community outside
of the church and Sunday school, and had
found everybody, even  the worst men in
town, ready to do something for the work.
Mr. Henry said he didn't see how any could
refuse to give towards a cause that was doing
so much good, especially when the children
were doing so nobly for it.




CHAPTER XXIX.
Conclusion.
YEAR had passed, -a happy year
to the church and Sunday school at
the harbor; for it was one of labor
and  success.  The church had
grown to a membership of forty; and they
were harmonious, spiritual-minded, and enterprising. The Sunday school numbered a hundred and thirty regular attendants, and was
constantly increasing in interest and power;
for the superintendent was earnest and wideawake, keeping himself posted in Sabbathschool improvements, and adopting the best
principles: the teachers were prompt, studious,
and prayerful; and the children appreciated
260




CONCLUSION.             261
their advantages, and brought every one they
could find into the school.  The chapel was
finished, including the schoolrooms; and the
school, devotional meetings of the week, and
Sabbath school and preaching on the Lord's
Day, kept it in constant service.
In short, a great work had been done in the
community. Every kind of vice had been put
to shame; and the tone of morality and public
sentiment, once so low, was now fully equal to
that of the first order of Christian communities.  As far as possible, all labor was suspended, on the Sabbath: pleasure-excursions
were  entirely  abandoned, and  there  was
a general and punctual attendance at the
house of God.  As a general thing, the
Christians of the place did not complain
of coldness of heart in the Lord's work;
for they had learned a universal remedy for
that disorder, namely, labor and  sacrifice.
This was their motto; and Miss Elliot, with




262        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
her usual skill and taste, had represented it
beautifully on a large shield: on it was the
picture of an altar, with a lamb for its sacrifice,
and a ploughman at work in his field; while
at the bottom of it, in large gold letters, were
the words, "Ready for either."   This was
placed in the chapel, high on the wall back of
the desk, and rested on our country's coat of
arms and on the beautiful folds of the "stars
and stripes."
This motto was well carried out.  Each
teacher il the Sunday school was the captain
of a.company, the superintendent and  the
church-officers were colonels and majors, and
the pastor was commander-in-chief.
" Freely ye have received, freely give."
This principle was fully applied by the people
at the harbor. They did not believe in talking
and praying, while they withheld tithes and
offerings. Mr. Williams was the treasurer of
the church and congregation; and he con



CONCLUSION.              263
sidered the financial education of a Christian
community a matter of the most vital importance.  The expenses necessary for the year
were accurately calculated, and placed before
every individual as a matter of debt, not of
charity.  " A man should pay his honest debts
without complaint," he said.  And if any still
persisted in calling the payment of his debt a
gift, he taught him to give cheerfully, to know
the blessedness of giving.  " For giving," said
he, "is heaven's law, and the law of nature.
He who does not give is a monster, a contradiction to the world in which he lives." Mr.
Williams's doctrine was true, and carried conviction.
" I'm not a Christian, an' more's the pity for
it," said Mr. Henry one day to Dr. Sprague;
"but I al'ays feel better after handin' over to
Williams my part for the good cause.  An'
I'm  not the only one that feels so.  I was
down in the store t'other evenin', when he




264        SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
came in with his subscription-paper; an' nearly
every one forked over to him, an' seemed to
feel the better for it.  An' there's old Toodie:
why, I jes seed her shed tears t'other day for
clear joy, when she handed him  her'mite,'
as she called it; an' a pretty good mite it
was, too, I tell ye, for a poor woman. Well
then, there's the children. Every boy in the
Sunday school earns somethin' to pay for the
preachin', an' goes to church every time with
all the interest of a stockholder. An' jes the
same with the girls. If a feller has any soul,
given' makes him feel good, no mistake; an' I
don't know but it'ud help grow a soul, if he
hadn't none."
We have traced the history of the harbor
from a single family to a thrifty business community of five hundred inhabitants, and now it
becomes a county-seat.  We have seen it in
its intellectual and moral darkness and degra



CONCLUSION.             265
dation; and we have seen the introduction of
the gospel, and watched the development of
its elevating and purifying principles, until the
church has become a regenerating power, not
only in its own community, but for many miles
beyond.  For Mr. Alton and Dr. Sprague,
with the aid of others interested in the Lord's
work, are establishing mission interests in several of the adjoining settlements.  Sunday
schools and prayer-meetings are henceforth
to be held there; and Mr. Harris will have
regular appointments for preaching.
Truly the beautiful prophecy of old has
been fulfilled in its highest moral and spiritual
sense, -" Then the eyes of the blind shall be
opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be
unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as
an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing:
for in the wilderness shall waters break out,
and streams in the desert. And the parched




266       SNAIL-SHELL HARBOR.
ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty
land springs of water."
Truly the gospel is Heaven's greatest gift to
man; and how ungrateful is he who turns a
deaf ear to its call I




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