Chapter 9

Though she has had much ill health herself, she has been able to accomplish a splendid life's work, and to advance the study of nursing in all parts of the globe.

FOR ENGLAND, HOME, AND DUTY.

THE DEATH OF NELSON.

It was the 21st October, 1805. The English fleet had been for many days lying off the coast of Spain, eagerly waiting for the navies of France and Spain to leave their shelter in Cadiz harbour. At length, to his joy, Lord Nelson received the signal that they had put out to sea; and he now prepared to attack the combined fleet (which consisted of forty vessels) with his thirty-one ships. Yet, though the enemy not only had more vessels, but they were larger than his own, Nelson confidently expected victory, and told Captain Blackwood he would not be satisfied unless he captured twenty ships. Having made all arrangements, Nelson went down to his cabin and wrote this prayer:--

"May the great God whom I worship grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory; and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet! For myself individually, I commit my life to Him that made me, and may His blessing alight on my endeavours for serving my country faithfully! To Him I resign myself, and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen. Amen. Amen."

Before the battle began Nelson made the signal which stirred every heart in the fleet on that day, and has since remained a watchword of the nation:--

"England expects every man will do his duty".

It was received with an outburst of cheering.

Nelson wore, as usual, his admiral's frock-coat. On his breast glittered four stars of the different orders which had been given him. He was in good spirits, and eager for the fray.

His officers represented to him how desirable it was that he should keep out of the battle as long as possible; and, knowing the truth of this, he signalled to the other ships to go in front. Yet his desire to be in the forefront of the attack was so great that he would not take in any sail on The Victory, and thus rendered it impossible for the other vessels to obey his orders.

At ten minutes to twelve the battle began; by four minutes past twelve fifty men on board Nelson's ship _The Victory_ had been killed or wounded, and many of her sails shot away.

The fire of the enemy was so heavy that Nelson, smiling, said, "This is too warm work, Hardy, to last long". Up to that time not a shot had been fired from _The Victory_; and Nelson declared that never in all his battles had he seen anything which surpassed the cool courage of his crew. Then, however, when they had come to close quarters with the enemy, from both sides of _The Victory_ flashed forth the fire of the guns, carrying swift destruction among the foe.

The French ship next which they were lying, _The Redoutable_, having ceased firing her great guns, Nelson twice gave instructions to stop firing into her, with the humane desire of avoiding unnecessary slaughter. Strange to say, that from this ship at a quarter past one was fired a shot which struck him in the left shoulder, and proved fatal.

Within twenty minutes after the fatal shot had been fired from _The Redoutable_ that ship was captured, the man who killed Nelson having himself been shot by a midshipman on board _The Victory_.

When he had been taken down to the cockpit he insisted that the surgeon should leave him and attend to others; "for," said he, "you can do nothing for me".

At this time his sufferings were very great, but he was cheered by the news which they brought him from time to time. At half-past two Hardy could report "ten ships have struck". An hour later he came with the news that fourteen or fifteen had struck. "That's well," cried Nelson, "but I bargained for twenty."

A little later he said, "Kiss me, Hardy". Hardy knelt down, and Nelson said, "Now I am satisfied. Thank God I have done my duty". After that it became difficult for him to speak, but he several times repeated the words, "Thank God I have done my duty". And these were the last words he uttered before he died. At half-past four o'clock he expired.

Thus Nelson died in the hour of victory. He had won a battle which once and for all broke the naval power of France and Spain, and delivered Great Britain from all fear of attack by the great Napoleon.

A WOMAN WHO SUCCEEDED BY FAILURE.

THE STORY OF HARRIET NEWELL.

This is rather an exceptional chapter: for it tells of a very little life judged by length of days, a very sad life judged by some of its incidents, a very futile life considered by what it actually accomplished,--but a very wonderful life regarded in the light of the results which followed.

Harriet Attwood was born in Massachusetts, America, in the year 1793.

Even in her girlhood she looked forward to assisting in making the Gospel known in distant lands. Long before any movement sprang up in America for sending out female missionaries to the heathen, the day dream of this little girl was to devote herself to the mission cause.

Not that she dreamed away her life in longing, and neglected her every-day duties. She was remarkable for her intelligence and dutiful conduct; and from the age of ten felt deep religious convictions, and was constant in her daily prayers and Bible reading.

Her life was brightened by her belief, and she ever kept in view what she believed to be her mission in life. "What can I do," she writes, "that the light of the Gospel may shine upon the heathen? They are perishing for lack of knowledge, while I enjoy the glorious privileges of a Christian land."

The means of accomplishing her desire soon came. A young missionary, named Newell, who was going out to India, asked her to become his wife.

Her decision was not taken without earnest prayer; and had her parents opposed her wishes she would have been prepared to give them up, but, gaining their consent, she accepted Mr. Newell's offer. She was fully aware that the difficulties in the way would be very great; for up to that time no female missionary had gone from America to the mission field.

At first her friends tried in every way to dissuade her from leaving home, and, as they termed it, "throwing herself away on the heathen".

But her simplicity of belief and earnestness of purpose soon changed their thoughts on the subject and when, early in the year 1812, Mr. and Mrs. Newell sailed for Calcutta, many came together to wish them God-speed on their perilous journey.

On his arrival in Calcutta Mr. Newell, in accordance with the regulation of the East India Company at that time, reported himself at the police office; and to his sorrow found that the Company would not allow any missionaries to work in their dominions!

Here was a disappointing beginning for these earnest young people! At first it seemed quite probable they would not even be allowed to land; and though permission was after a time obtained, yet in six weeks they were told they must go elsewhere, as they would not be permitted to settle.

A few days later, however, the prospect brightened. "We have obtained leave," writes Mrs. Newell, "to go to the Isle of France (Mauritius). We hear that the English Governor there favours missions; that a large field of usefulness is there opened--18,000 inhabitants ignorant of Jesus. Is not this the station that Providence has designed for us? A door is open wide. Shall we not enter and help the glorious work?"

But it was by her influence alone that she was permitted to engage in the work her heart longed for. On the journey to Mauritius rapid consumption set in, and day by day she became weaker.

Although she felt at first a natural disappointment that she would not be allowed to labour in the mission field, she was able to look upward in her hour of trial and to say: "Tell my friends I never regretted leaving my native land for the cause of Christ. God has called me away before we have entered on the work of the mission, but the case of David affords me comfort. I have it in my heart to do what I can for the heathen, and I hope God will accept me."

On the 30th November, 1812, at the early age of nineteen, Harriet Newell passed away.

Might not many a one justly ask, was not her life a failure? And the answer, based on the experience and results of what her life and death accomplished, is No--emphatically No!

For her example produced a wave of religious life and missionary enthusiasm in America, the like of which has hardly ever been known.

The very fact of this whole-hearted girl giving up her life for the cause of Christ, and the pathos of her untimely end, did more to touch the hearts of multitudes than perhaps the most apparently successful accomplishment of her mission would have done.

A MARTYR OF THE SOUTH SEAS.

THE MORNING AND EVENING OF BISHOP PATTESON'S LIFE.

John Coleridge Patteson was born in April, 1827. He was blessed with an upright and good father, and a loving and gentle mother; and thus his early training was calculated to make him the earnest Christian man he afterwards became.

Here is an extract from a letter written from school at the age of nine, which shows that he had faults and failings to overcome just like all other boys:--

"My dear papa, I am very sorry for having told so many falsehoods, which Uncle Frank has told mama of. I am very sorry for having done so many bad things--I mean falsehoods--and I heartily beg your pardon; and Uncle Frank says that he thinks if I stay, in a month's time Mr. Cornish will be able to trust me again.... He told me that if I ever told another falsehood he should that instant march me into the school and ask Mr. Cornish to strip and birch me ... but I will not catch the birching."

And he did not. He was so frank, so ready to see his own faults, that he was always a favourite. Uncle Frank remarked of him at this same time: "He wins one's heart in a moment".

Perhaps one ought to call him a Queen's missionary, for her Majesty saved him from a serious accident in a rather remarkable manner.

In 1838 when the Queen was driving in her carriage the crowd was so dense that Patteson, then at school at Eton, became entangled in the wheel of the carriage and would have been thrown underneath and run over had it not been for the young Queen's quick perception. Seeing the danger she gave her hand to the boy, who readily seized it, and was thus able to get on his feet again and avoid the threatened peril.

He was a boy who, when he had done wrong, always blamed himself--not any one else. Thus, when he was twelve, having spent a good deal of his time one term at Eton enjoying cricket and boating, he found his tutor was not at all satisfied with his progress. "I am ashamed to say," he remarked in writing home, "that I can offer not the slightest excuse: my conduct on this occasion has been very bad. I expect a severe reproof from you, and pray do not send me any money. But from this time I am determined I will not lose a moment."

In 1841 came the first indication of what his future career might be.

Bishop Selwyn of New Zealand was preaching, and the boy says of the sermon: "It was beautiful when he talked of his going out to found a church, and then to die neglected and forgotten".

How deep had been the influence on his mind of his mother's example may be gathered from the letter he wrote at the time of her death in 1842, when he was fifteen years old: "It is a very dreadful loss for us all, but we have been taught by that dear mother who has now been taken from us that it is not fit to grieve for those who die in the Lord, 'for they rest from their labours'.... She said once, 'I wonder I wish to leave you, my dearest John, and the children and this sweet place, but yet I do wish it'; so lovely was her faith."

In 1854 Bishop Selwyn returned to England. During the time that had elapsed since his previous visit, Patteson had been ordained. The bishop stayed with his father a few days, and during that time the feelings which the boy of fourteen had experienced were revived in the man of twenty-seven; and with his father's consent John Coleridge Patteson entered upon his life work, sailing with Bishop Selwyn for the South Seas in March, 1855.

There he laboured with such energy and success that in 1861 he was consecrated bishop. Many thousands of miles were traversed by him in the mission ship _The Southern Cross_, visiting the numerous islands of the Pacific known as Polynesia or Melanesia.

Of the dangers that abounded he knew ample to try his courage. On arriving at Erromanga (the scene of Williams' martyrdom) on one occasion he found that Mr. Gordon, the missionary, and his wife had recently both been treacherously slain by the natives. At another island, as he returned to the boat, he saw one of the natives draw a bow with the apparent intention of shooting him, and then unbend it at the entreaty of his comrades. "But," remarks the bishop in recording this, "we must try to effect more frequent landings."

And thus full of faith he laboured on, telling the people of these scattered islands, which besprinkle the southern ocean like stars in the milky way, of the love of Christ.

He was still ready to condemn himself just as he did in his early days. From Norfolk Island, in 1870, he wrote to his sister when he was holding an ordination: "At such times as these, when one is specially engaged in solemn work, there is much heart searching; and I cannot tell you how my conscience accuses me of such systematic selfishness during many long years--I mean I see how I was all along making self the centre, and neglecting all kinds of duties--social and others--in consequence".

He was much grieved by the accounts which reached him of the terrible war which was being fought between France and Germany in 1870. "What can I say," he writes, "to my Melanesians about it? Do these nations believe in the gospel of peace and goodwill? Is the sermon on the mount a reality or not?"

Yet he had troubles closer at home than this even. The trading ships were coming in numbers to the islands, and carrying off the natives either by guile or by force to Fiji and other places where labourers were wanted.

Notwithstanding the anxieties which beset him on this account, the good bishop continued to work as hard as ever, and very happy he was about his people.

On Christmas Eve, 1870, he writes: "Seven new communicants to-morrow morning. And all things, God be praised, happy and peaceful about us." He wrote of the large "family" of 145 Melanesian natives he had around him; at another time he spoke of his sleeping on a table with some twelve or more fellows about him; and people coming and going all day long both in and out of school hours!

In August, 1871, he baptised 248 persons, twenty-five of them adults, all in a little more than a month, and he rejoiced in the thought that a blessed change was going on in the hearts of these people.

He had never experienced such cheering success before, and, though his friends were endeavouring to persuade him to take rest and change for his health's sake, he determined to labour on while there was so much need for his exertion and such blessed results followed.

The desire to believe on the part of some of his people was very touching. One of them said to him: "I don't know how to pray properly, but I and my wife say, 'God make our hearts light--take away the darkness. We believe that You love us because You sent Jesus to become a man and die for us; but we can't understand it all. Make us fit to be baptised.'"

Some, of course, were not so enlightened as that. After the kidnapping traders had been harrying the islands, one of the chiefs said that, if the bishop would only bring a man-of-war and get him vengeance on his adversaries, he would be exalted like his Father above.

There was indeed serious cause for the anger of the natives. One of them related how he had been out to a vessel with his companions, and a white man had come down into the canoe and presently upset it, seizing him by the belt. Happily this broke, and he swam under the side of the canoe and finally got on shore, but the other three were killed--their heads were cut off and taken on board, and their bodies thrown to the sharks. The assailants were men-stealers, who killed ruthlessly that they might present heads to the chiefs.

Five natives from the same island were also killed or carried off, and thus when the bishop visited them they were in a state of sullen wrath.

On the 20th of September, 1871, Bishop Patteson came to Nukapu. The island is difficult of approach at low water, and the little ship, _The Southern Cross_, could not get close in. So the bishop went off to the shore in a boat and got into one of the canoes, leaving his four pupils to await his return. They saw him land, and he was then lost to sight.

About half an hour later the natives in the canoes, without the least warning, began shooting their arrows at the poor fellows in the boat, and ere it could be taken out of bowshot one of them was pierced with six arrows, and two of the others were also wounded.

They were full of fears about the bishop, and, notwithstanding the danger, determined to seek for him. They had no arms except one pistol which the mate possessed.

As they made their way towards shore a canoe drifted out, and lying in it, wrapped in a native mat, was the body of Bishop Patteson.

A sweet calm smile was on his face, a palm leaf was fastened upon his breast, and upon the body were five wounds--the exact number of the natives who had been kidnapped or killed.

So the good bishop died for the misdeeds of others. The natives but followed their traditions in exacting blood for blood, and their poor dark minds could not distinguish between the good and the bad white men.

Two of those who were with the bishop in the boat, and had received arrow wounds, died within a week, after much suffering.

One of them, Mr. Atkins, writing of the occurrence on the day of the martyrdom, says:--

"It would be selfish to wish him back. He has gone to his rest, dying, as he lived, in the Master's service. It seems a shocking way to die; but I can say from experience it is far more to hear of than to suffer. There is no sign of fear or pain on his face, just the look that he used to have when asleep, patient and a little wearied. What his mission will do without him, God only knows who has taken him away."

Three days after, in celebrating the Holy Communion, Mr. Atkins stumbled in his speech, and then he and his companions knew the poison in his system was working. "Stephen and I," he said, "are going to follow the bishop. Don't grieve about it ... It is very good because God would have it so, because He only looks after us, and He understands about us, and now He wills to take us too and _it is well_."

"K.G. AND COSTER."

SOME ANECDOTES ABOUT LORD SHAFTESBURY.

"And where shall we write to?" asked one of the costermongers.

"Address your letter to me at Grosvenor Square," replied Lord Shaftesbury, "and it will probably reach me; but, if after my name you put 'K.G. and Coster,' there will be no doubt that I shall get it!"

This conversation took place at the conclusion of a meeting which had been held by the costermongers. They had met to talk about their grievances, and Lord Shaftesbury had attended the gathering and promised to help them, telling them to write to him if they required further assistance.

The noble Knight of the Garter was not only interested in the costermongers themselves, but in their animals too.

At one time the costers had used their donkeys and ponies shamefully, had overworked and underfed them; but gradually they were made to see how much better it was to treat their animals well. With a good Sunday rest and proper treatment, the donkeys would go thirty miles a day comfortably; without it, they could not do more than half.

So, as Lord Shaftesbury had been kind to the costers and taken such interest in their pursuits, they invited him to a special meeting, at which they presented him with a splendid donkey.

Over a thousand costers with their friends were there, when the donkey, profusely decorated with ribbons, was led to the platform. Lord Shaftesbury vacated the chair and made way for the new arrival; and then, putting his arm round the animal's neck, returned thanks in a short speech in which he said:--

"When I have passed away from this life I desire to have no more said of me than that I have done my duty, as the poor donkey has done his--with patience and unmurmuring resignation".

The donkey was then led down the steps of the platform, and Lord Shaftesbury remarked, "I hope the reporters of the press will state that, the donkey having vacated the chair, the place was taken by Lord Shaftesbury".

Let us turn for a moment to the beginning of his life, and see how it was that Lord Shaftesbury was induced to devote himself so heartily to the good of the poor and oppressed.

Maria Mills, his old nurse, had not a little to do with this. She was one of those simple-minded humble Christians who, all unknowingly, plant in many minds the good seed which grows up and brings forth much fruit.

She was very fond of the little boy, and would tell him the "sweet story of old" in so attractive a manner that a deep impression was made upon his heart. The prayers she taught him in childhood he not only used in his youth, but even in old age the words were often upon his lips.

When he was a schoolboy at Harrow came the turning point in his life.

He saw four or five drunken men carrying a coffin containing the remains of a companion; and such was their state of intoxication that they dropped it, and then broke out into foul language.

The effect this had upon the youth was so great that he resolved to devote his life to helping the poor and friendless.

There was plenty of work for him to do. Children in factories and mines required to be protected from the cruelties to which they were subjected; chimney sweeps needed to be guarded from the dangers to which they were exposed; the hours of labour in factories were excessive; thieves required to be shown a way of escape from their wretched life; ragged schools and other institutions needed support.

These and numerous other matters kept Lord Shaftesbury hard at work during the entire of his long life, and by his help many wise alterations were made in the laws of the country.

"Do what is right and trust to Providence for the rest," was his motto; and he stuck to it always.

Lord Shaftesbury brought before Parliament a scheme for assisting young thieves to emigrate; and the grown-up burglars and vagabonds, seeing how much in earnest he was, invited him to a meeting. To this he went without a moment's hesitation.

The door was guarded by a detachment of thieves, who watched to see that none but those of their class went in.

Lord Shaftesbury was in the chair, and the meeting commenced with prayer. There were present over two hundred burglars and criminals of the worst kind, besides a great number of other bad characters.

First of all the chairman gave an address; then some of the thieves followed, telling quite plainly and simply how they spent their lives.

When Lord Shaftesbury urged them to give up their old lives of sin one of them said, "We must steal or we shall die".

The city missionary, who was present, urged them to pray, as God could help them.

"But," said one of the men, "my Lord and gentlemen of the jury (!), prayer is very good, but it won't fill an empty stomach."