HOW many of my young readers have visited Dover I wonder? Few, I think, would be content to say good-bye to its white cliffs without having climbed the long flight of stone steps leading to the Keep of its grand old castle, and enjoying the glorious sea views to be had from its ramparts.
English history, too, as every schoolboy knows, has something to tell us about Dover.
There, many years ago, an English king might have been seen kneeling before a messenger from the pope of Rome, from whose hand he received the crown which for a time he had given up, at the same time making a very strange promise in all things to obey the pope. I have not told you the name of the king, of the pope's messenger, or the year in which all this happened; but, as I think some of you would like to help me to write stories about schoolboys, I am going to leave room for you to fill in what I have left out. Just so: In the year —, king — received his — from the hand of —, and agreed to hold it as a vassal of the —.
If you do not know the meaning of the word vassal, look for it in your dictionary, and when you have filled in all the blank spaces I have left, if any one should ask who wrote Stories about Schoolboys, you will be able to say, "We wrote it—C. J. L. and I.”
But I have not told you about the Dutch sailor boy yet.
It was an autumn evening, shadows were beginning to gather, and the air was growing cool, when, returning by the sea-front, we noticed a number of persons standing quite still, and all seemed to be much interested in watching some one or something.
Going nearer we saw a boy whose appearance told us he acted as a cabin boy on board a Dutch ship then in the harbor, sitting, his face almost hidden in his hands, on the sea wall, at a point where it was too steep to be climbed.
How had he got there?
Easily enough: he had wandered along the beach when the tide was out, and scrambled over some loose stones to what seemed a comfortable seat, where he had most likely gone to sleep, awaking to find his return by the way he had come was out of the question, as the waves had washed over the stones and the tide was coming in fast.
Only one way of escape was left: by going for some distance along a narrow and slippery ledge of rock, he would be able to gain a higher part of the sea wall, from which it would be easy to reach a flight of wooden steps leading to the parade.
The boy saw his danger, he saw, too, there was a way of escape, but did not seem to have courage to try it. For, like most Dutch boys, he was not a good climber; perhaps because his native country, Holland, is so flat that he could not have had much practice, though I have no doubt that, provided with a pair of skates, on some good ice, he would soon have proved, if good could not climb, that he could skate as well as any English boy, for most of the Dutch are first-rate skaters.
We were all getting anxious about him, as we saw the tide would soon cover the wall, for the part where he was sitting was some distance below high-water mark. One old gentleman, like ourselves a visitor, said he thought the only way of reaching him would be by putting off a boat from the pier.
While we were talking about what could be done, a party of Dover fisher boys came up, all ready and willing to help.
Taking off their shoes and stockings, they went along the ledge of rock, and were soon trying to induce him to follow their example. But, as the Dutch boy and his new friends could not speak a word of each other's language, it was not easy to make him understand how it could be done, and the poor boy only shook his head and looked unwilling to make the attempt. But the fisher lads would not give it up. They showed him by signs how high the tide would soon rise, and one little fellow ran backwards and forwards several times to encourage his timid companion.
At last the sailor boy, grasping a hand of two of his rescuers, was half led, half dragged over the rocks to the steps. Out of danger, but unable to thank his young deliverers, he stood still, and then pointed upwards with such a reverent look, we felt sure he owned the hand of God in his escape from danger.
And now, boys, I want to say just a few loving, earnest words to you about your danger and your Deliverer.
I am sure you have all read the beautiful story of David, Israel's shepherd king, and you know how one day, when he was quite a youth, while keeping his father's sheep in a field near Bethlehem, he risked his life and went down into the place of danger, rather than give up one helpless lamb to the fierce lion and the cruel bear (1 Sam. 17:34, 3534And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock: 35And I went out after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth: and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him. (1 Samuel 17:34‑35)), and I think you know, too, that in so doing, David was only a type or shadow of the Lord Jesus Christ, who became a Savior that He might seek and save the lost.
I have told you how the Dover fisher boys went along the rocky ledge to the very spot where the one they were going to help was. It would have been no help at all if they had only stood on the parade and called to him to leave his dangerous position and come to them where they were.
Perhaps you have often sung
“For His love to ruin'd sinners,
To this wretched world He came;
Here He died to make atonement.
Justice now no more can claim.”
But have you ever really thought that it was because He loved you, that he not only risked but gave His life that you might be saved?
Some of the noblest, bravest boys I have known were on the Lord's side. It did one good to look at their happy faces. They did not mind being laughed at for doing right; but no boys in the school enjoyed a merry game of play more than these young soldiers of Christ, and they were good at lessons, too, so you will not be surprised that they carried off quite a large share of prizes and honors.
I have often seen one of them leave his companions, and run to carry a basket for widow Dalton, or take blind Peter Wilts safely across the road; and all was done in such a bright pleasant way, it made one think of the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." (Acts 20:3535I have showed you all things, how that so laboring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive. (Acts 20:35).)
A friend said to him one day, "Eddie, how is it you are always trying to make other people happy?”
Eddie was silent for a moment, a bright flush crimsoned his fair young brow, then, simply and modestly his answer was given: "I think it is just because He loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Happy Eddie, to have so early learned the secret of a useful and truly blessed life.