CHAPTER VIII
Things were rather quiet for the rest of the day, much to Max's disgust, though at his father's bidding he tried to forget the disappointment in study.
Toward evening Captain Raymond learned something of the Admiral's plans. Two of the vessels were to take possession of a part of the bay set off as a harbour, the others to blockade the entrance.
In reporting the matter to his passengers, "Now," he said, "the preparations will take them two or three days, and the question is, shall we stay to see it all, or turn about and seek entertainment elsewhere? Let us have the opinion of all the older people, beginning with Grandpa Dinsmore," looking pleasantly at the old gentleman as he spoke.
"My preference would be rather for going at once," replied Mr. Dinsmore; "yet I am entirely willing to have the matter decided by your younger people. I shall be quite content to stay on if it seems desirable to the rest of the company."
The vote of the ladies and gentlemen was then taken, when it appeared that the majority were in favour of immediate departure; and the children, though at first disappointed, grew quite reconciled when a little time had been spent in considering what might be seen and done in other quarters.
"I think, Ned," Zoe said to her husband, "that we would better go back to our cottage, because Laurie and Lily are growing fretful, – tired of the sea, I think."
"Very well, my dear, we will do so if you wish it," was the good-natured reply. "Strange as it may seem, I too am quite desirous to make our twin babies as comfortable as possible," he added, with a pleasant laugh.
"I am sorry you should miss the sight of further operations here, Cousin Donald," remarked Grandma Elsie, turning to her kinsman.
"Thank you, Cousin Elsie," he replied; "but though that would be an interesting sight to me, I expect to find almost if not equal enjoyment in a run out to sea or along shore with my friend Raymond in command of the vessel."
"Oh, I think that'll be just splendid," exclaimed Max, "and that before we get back, Cousin Donald, you'll be ready to own up that the navy is a more desirable place to be in than the army."
"Perhaps he wouldn't own up even if he thought so," remarked Rosie, with a merry look at her cousin; "I don't believe I should if I were in his place."
"Possibly I might," he returned, laughingly, "but I certainly do not expect to fall quite so deeply in love with a 'life on the ocean wave,' though I hope to be always willing and anxious to serve my country wherever and whenever I may be needed. I think both army and navy always have been, and always will be, ready to defend her on land or sea."
"Yes, sir, I believe that's so," said Max. "And if ever we should have another war, I hope I'll be able to help defend her."
"I hope so, my boy," the Captain said, regarding the lad with an expression of fatherly pride and affection.
An hour later the "Dolphin" was sailing out of the bay, all her passengers gathered on deck, taking a farewell look at the vessels belonging to the squadron, and on awaking in the morning they found themselves lying at anchor in Newport harbour.
They returned to their cottages for a day or two; then the Raymonds, Grandma Elsie, with the youngest two of her children, and Donald Keith, again set sail in the "Dolphin."
The weather was all that could be desired, every one well and in the best of spirits.
Max was required to devote a part of each day to study, and recitation to his father, but did not grumble over that, and took great delight in the lessons in practical navigation given him daily by the Captain.
"Papa," he asked one day, "what's the need of a boy going to the Naval Academy when he can learn everything he needs to know on shipboard with a father like you?"
"But he can't," replied the Captain; "how to sail a ship is by no means all he needs to know to fit him to be an officer in the navy."
"Why, what else is necessary, sir?" asked Max, with a look of surprise.
"A number of things which you saw done at Newport and at Gardiner's Bay are quite necessary. He must know how to fight a battle, take charge of an ordnance foundry, and conduct an astronomical observatory; must have a good knowledge of history, be an able jurist and linguist, and a good historian, – besides knowing how to manage a ship in calm or storm."
"Whew! what a lot of things to cram into one head!" laughed Max, with a slightly troubled look on his bright young face.
"Isn't yours big enough to hold it all?" asked his father, with an amused smile.
"I dare say it is, sir," replied Max, "but the difficulty is to pack it all in right. I presume the teachers will help me to do that, though."
"Certainly; and if you follow their directions carefully you will have no need to fear failure."
"Thank you, sir. That's very encouraging," said Max; "and I am fully determined to try my very best, Papa, if it was only not to disgrace my father."
"My dear son," the Captain said, a trifle huskily, and taking the boy's hand in a warm clasp, "I don't doubt that you intend to do as you have said; but never forget that your only safety is in keeping close to Him who has said, 'In Me is thine help.'"
It was Saturday evening, – the first that had found them on the broad ocean, out of sight of land. They were all on deck, enjoying the delicious evening breeze and a most brilliant sunset.
"Papa," Gracie said, breaking a momentary silence, "what are we going to do about keeping the Lord's Day to-morrow? We can't go to church, you know, unless you can sail the 'Dolphin' back to land in the night."
"I cannot do that, daughter," he answered; "but I can conduct a service here on the deck. How will that do, do you think?"
"I don't know, Papa," she replied, with some hesitation, blushing and looking fearful of hurting his feelings; "I s'pose you couldn't preach a sermon?"
"Why not?" he asked, smiling a little at her evident embarrassment.
"Because you're not a minister, Papa."
"Why, Gracie! Papa's as good as any minister, I'm sure," exclaimed Lulu, half reproachfully, half indignantly.
"Of course he is; I didn't mean that!" returned Gracie, just ready to burst into tears; "I didn't mean he wasn't as good as anybody in this whole world, – for of course he is, – but I thought it was only ministers that preach."
"But I can read a sermon, my pet," the Captain said, "or preach one if I choose; there is no law against it. And we can pray and sing hymns together; and if we put our hearts into it all, our heavenly Father will be as ready to listen to us as to other worshippers in the finest churches on the land."
"That is a very comforting truth," remarked Grandma Elsie; "it is very sweet to reflect that God is as near to us out on the wide and deep sea as to any of his worshippers on the dry land."
"You will hold your service in the morning, I suppose, Captain?" Mr. Keith said inquiringly.
"That is what I had thought of doing, sir," was the reply. "Have you any suggestions to make?"
"Only that we might have a Bible class later in the day."
"Yes, sir; that was a part of my programme, – at least I had thought of teaching my own children, as is customary with me at home; but if the suggestion meets with favour, we will resolve ourselves into a Bible class, each one able to read taking part. What do you all say to the proposition?"
"I highly approve," said Grandma Elsie; "I am sure the day could not be better spent than in the study of God's Holy Word."
"Nor more delightfully," said Violet.
"I think we would all like it, Captain," Evelyn remarked in her quiet way.
"I'm sure I shall," said Lulu; "Papa always makes Bible lessons very interesting."
"That's so," said Max; "I was never taught by any minister or Sunday-school teacher that made them half so interesting."
"It is quite possible that your near relationship to your teacher may have made a good deal of difference, my children," the Captain said gravely, though not unkindly. "But who shall act as teacher on this occasion is a question still to be decided. I propose Grandma Elsie, as the eldest of those present, and probably the best qualified."
"All in favour of that motion please say ay," added Violet, playfully. "I am sure no better teacher could be found than Mamma, though I incline to the opinion that my husband would do equally well."
"Much better, I think," Grandma Elsie said; "and I would greatly prefer to be one of his pupils."
"I can hardly consider myself wise enough to teach my mother," said the Captain, colouring and laughing lightly, "even though she is far too young to be own mother to a man of my age."
"But you may lead a Bible class of which she forms a part, may you not?" queried Donald Keith.
"I suppose that might be possible," the Captain replied, with a humourous look and smile.
"I'm sure you can and will, since such is your mother's wish," Grandma Elsie said in a sportive tone, "and so we may consider that matter settled."
"And Mamma's word having always been law to her children, we will consider it so," Violet said. "Shall we not, Levis?"
"As good and dutiful children I suppose we must, my dear," he returned in the playful tone she particularly liked.
Sunday morning dawned clear and beautiful, a delicious breeze filling the sails and wafting the vessel swiftly onward over the sparkling water.
An hour or so after breakfast, captain, passengers, and crew, except the man at the helm, gathered on deck, every one in neat and appropriate dress. The ladies, gentlemen, and children sat on one side, the crew on the other, Captain Raymond standing between. A Bible and a pile of hymn-books lay on a stand before him, and Max was directed to distribute the latter. They were a part of the supplies Captain Raymond had laid in for the voyage.
A melodeon also stood near the stand, and Violet, seating herself before it, led the singing with which the service opened.
The Captain then offered a short prayer, read a portion of Scripture, a second hymn was sung; then he gave them a short discourse on the text, "They hated Me without a cause."
With much feeling and in simple language that the youngest and most ignorant of his hearers could readily understand, he described the lovely character and beneficent life of Christ upon earth, – always about His Father's business, doing good to the souls and bodies of men, – and the bitter enmity of the scribes and Pharisees, who "hated Him without a cause." Then he went on to tell of the agony in the garden, the betrayal by Judas, – "one of the twelve," – the mockery of a trial, the scourging and the crown of thorns, the carrying of the cross and the dreadful death upon it.
"All this He bore for you and for me," he concluded in tones tremulous with emotion; "constrained by His great love for us, He died that dreadful death that we might live. And shall we not love Him in return? Shall we not give ourselves to Him, and serve Him with all our powers? It is a reasonable service, a glad service, – a service that gives rest to the soul. He says to each one of us, 'Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'
"Ah, do not refuse or neglect His invitation, for the only choice is between His service and that of Satan, – that malignant spirit whose fierce desire and effort is to drag all souls down to his own depths of sin and misery; and Jesus only can save you from falling into his cruel hands. But He – the Lord of Life and Glory – invites us all to come and be saved, and 'now is the accepted time; now is the day of salvation.' Delay is most dangerous; life is very uncertain. We are sure of no time but now."
He closed the Bible and sat down; and Violet, again seating herself before the melodeon, softly touched the keys and sang in sweet, low tones, but so distinctly that every word reached the farthest listener, —
"Come to Jesus, come to Jesus;
Come to Jesus just now, just now;
Come to Jesus, come to Jesus just now."
Then, at a sign from the Captain, Mr. Keith followed with an earnest prayer; and with another hymn in which all united, the services closed.
Among the crew was one young man in whom the Captain and Grandma Elsie had both come to feel a peculiar interest. He was evidently an American, and possessed of more intelligence and education than the average sailor before the mast. He had listened with close attention to the Captain's discourse, and with a troubled countenance, as Mrs. Travilla had noticed.
"The Holy Spirit is striving with him, I have little doubt," she said to herself. "Ah, if I could but help him to find Jesus, and to know the sweetness of His love!"
It was not long before the desired opportunity offered. The young man was at the wheel and no one near, while she paced the deck slowly and alone. Gradually she approached, and when close at his side made some pleasant remark about the vessel and the course they were steering.
He responded in a polite and respectful manner.
Then she spoke of the service of the morning, said she had noticed the attention he paid to the Captain's short sermon, and asked in kindest words and tones if he, like herself, was one who loved Jesus, and trusted in Him for salvation from sin and eternal death.
He sighed deeply, then said with emotion, "No, madam, but – I wish I were."
"But what is to hinder, my friend, since He says, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out'?" she asked gently, feelingly.
He was silent for a moment, evidently from emotion, then said, rather as if thinking aloud than addressing her, "If I only knew just how!"
"He is very near, and His omniscient eye reads the heart," she said low and feelingly. "Speak to Him just as if you could see Him, – as if you were kneeling at His feet, – and He will hear.
"The Bible says. 'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' Do you want that cleansing, my friend?"
He bowed a silent assent.
"Then go to Jesus for it," she said. "He, and He alone, can give it. He shed His blood for us that 'God may be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus;' for 'the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.'"
There was a moment's silence; then, "I'd like to be a Christian, ma'am," he said, "such as I see you and the Captain are, but – "
The sentence was left unfinished; and after a moment's pause. "I should like you to be a better one than I am," she said, "but Jesus only can make you such. The work is too difficult for any human creature; but Jesus is all-powerful, – 'able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them.' Is not that a precious assurance?"
"It is indeed, ma'am, if – if I only knew it meant me."
"You certainly will be one of those of whom it speaks if you 'come unto God by Him;' and He invites you to come: 'Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'"
"Could you tell me just how, ma'am, – as if you were pointing out the right road to a traveller, for instance?"
"I will try," she said. "You must remember that He is always near, – close to us, though we cannot see Him; and you may speak to Him as readily, and with as much assurance that you will be heard, as you have been speaking to me.
"He is full of love and compassion, – love so infinite, compassion so great that He was willing to endure all the agony of death upon the cross, and the far greater suffering caused by the burden of the sins of the world and the consequent hiding of His Father's face; therefore He will not cast you out, will not turn away from you, if you come in true penitence and faith.
"Make confession of your sins and plead for pardon and acceptance as you would if you could see Him while kneeling at His feet; and He will grant it, will forgive all your transgressions and adopt you into His family to be His own child forever."
But others of the passengers were now drawing near, and he had only time to thank her for her kindly interest in him, and promise to think of what she had been saying, before Walter and Max were at her side, calling her attention to a passing vessel.
A very interesting Bible lesson filled up most of the afternoon, both adults and children taking part; and in the evening hymns were sung and conversation held such as was suited to the sacredness of the day.
CHAPTER IX
A few days longer the "Dolphin" kept on her eastward course, then was headed for the shore of Massachusetts, bound for Boston, where Mr. Keith must leave her, his furlough having now nearly expired. He and his cousins would be sorry to part; but there was no help for it, as Uncle Sam's orders must be obeyed.
The young folks of the party had particularly enjoyed the little trip out to sea, but expected to find a sail along the coast of the New England States quite as much to their taste, particularly as it would give them an opportunity to look upon some of the scenes of incidents in the two wars with England.
They had come in sight of the coast and were all gathered upon the deck.
"That is Scituate, is it not, Captain?" asked Grandma Elsie, indicating a town that had just come into view.
"Yes," he replied, "and I presume you remember the story of the last war with England, connected with it?"
"I do," she answered; "but I presume it would be new to some at least of these young people."
Then entreaties for the story poured in upon her and the Captain from both boys and girls.
"It is but a short one; and I would prefer to have the Captain tell it," Mrs. Travilla replied.
"Oh, Papa, please do!" exclaimed Lulu; and he complied.
"It was, as I have said, during the last war with England that the occurrence I am about to tell of took place. At that time there was a light-house in the harbour kept by a man named Reuben Bates, who had a family of grown-up sons and daughters.
"He and his sons were members of a militia company of the town, and one day during the war they were all absent from home on that business, leaving the light-house in charge of the daughters, Abigail and Rebecca.
"The girls, who were no doubt keeping a vigilant watch for the approach of the enemy, saw a British ship entering the harbour, and conjectured that it was the design of those on board of her to destroy the fishing-boats in the harbour and perhaps burn the town, or at least rob its inhabitants.
"They must have been brave girls, for at once they began to consider what they could do to drive away the would-be invaders.
"I presume Abigail exclaimed, 'Oh, if we could only make them think there were troops ready to defend the town, and so frighten them away!' And very likely Rebecca replied, 'Perhaps we can. If you can play the fife, I'll beat the drum; and if we are hidden from sight they may think there are troops ready to receive them if they come ashore, and so be afraid to land.'
"So they went around behind some sand-hills and played 'Yankee Doodle' in a lively way that had exactly the desired effect.
"The British ship had sent out boats filled with armed men who were pulling for the shore; but on hearing the music of the drum and fife, they evidently concluded that there might be a large force of American soldiers ready to receive them, and thinking 'discretion the better part of valour,' turned about and pulled back to their ship again without attempting to land."
"Oh, wasn't that good?" exclaimed Lulu; "I think the fathers and brothers of those girls must have been proud of them."
"Yes, I dare say they were," said Max.
"I wonder what became of them – those girls – afterward?" said Rosie. "Of course they must have been dead and gone long before this."
"No," replied the Captain, "Abigail died only recently at the advanced age of eighty-nine."
"Papa, won't you stay awhile in Boston and take us to see some of the places connected with Revolutionary times, – Bunker Hill and its monument, and maybe some others?" asked Max.
"I shall be pleased to do so, my son, if nothing happens to prevent," was the pleasant-toned reply. "It is my strong desire to have my children well-informed in regard to the history of their own country."
"And ardent patriots too, Papa, ready to defend her to the utmost of their ability should she be attacked by any other power?" queried Max, looking smilingly up into his father's face.
"Yes, my son; particularly the boys," replied the Captain, smiling in his turn at the lad's enthusiasm.
"Well, there's one of your girls that I am sure would find a way to help, Papa, – nursing the wounded soldiers perhaps, or carrying despatches or something," said Lulu; "perhaps giving information of an intended attack by the enemy, as Lydia Darrah did."
"I have no doubt you would do all you could, daughter, and might perhaps be of more assistance than many a man," her father answered kindly.
"I'm afraid I shouldn't be brave enough to do such things as that," remarked Grace, with a look that seemed to say she felt herself quite inferior to her braver sister; "but I could pray for my country, and I know that God hears and answers prayer, – so that would be helping, wouldn't it, Papa?"
"Yes, my dear child; the Bible tells us a great deal about the power of prayer; 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me,' is one of its promises."
"Yes," said Grandma Elsie, "a cry to God, the Ruler of the universe, for help, may accomplish more than any effort on the part of man to do for himself."
"But people must help themselves too, Mamma?" Walter said, half in assertion, half inquiringly.
"Yes, my son, if they can; 'Faith without works is dead,' the Apostle says. The right way is to do all we can to help ourselves, at the same time asking God's blessing upon our efforts."
"As General Washington did," remarked Mr. Keith. "He was a man of both works and prayer, – a blessing to his country, and to the world; in my estimation the greatest mere man that ever lived. 'First in peace, first in war, first in the hearts of his countrymen.'"
"Yes," assented Grandma Elsie, "I like the toast given by some one, – I have forgotten who it was, – 'Washington: Providence left him childless that his country might call him father.' He seems to me to have been as nearly perfect as one of the sinful race of man could be!"
"Yes," responded Captain Raymond; "thoroughly unselfish, just, generous, modest, self-denying and self-sacrificing, charitable to the poor, forgiving, fearless and heroic; a God-fearing man who sought nothing for himself, but was ready to do or die for his country; true to her, to his friends, to his God; a sincere and earnest Christian, – where can a more noble character be found?"
"I think," said Mrs. Travilla, "he was an instrument raised up and prepared of God for the work that he did in securing to our beloved country the liberties she now enjoys."
"I very much like what Lord Brougham says of him," remarked Violet.
"Oh, can you repeat it, Mamma Vi?" queried Lulu, eagerly.
"Yes, I think I can," returned Violet, who was blessed with an excellent memory.
"'It will be the duty of the historian and sage in all ages to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington!'"
"I like that," said Rosie, her eyes sparkling with pleasure and enthusiasm, "and it's none the worse for having come from an Englishman."
"Not a bit," assented Keith.
"Mamma, was Washington commander at the battle of Bunker Hill?" asked Walter. "I ought to know; but I can't remember just now."
"No, my son," she answered, "it was fought before he reached Boston, – in fact, the very day, June 17, that Congress agreed to his commission as commander-in-chief of all the Continental forces raised, or to be raised; and on the 21st he set out on horseback from Philadelphia for Boston to take command of the American army encamped there, – or rather around it, the British being in possession of the town itself. News did not fly then as it does in these days, by any means; and it was not till he arrived in New York, on the 25th, that the tidings reached him.
"The next day he was in the saddle again, pushing on toward the scene of conflict. He reached Cambridge on the 2d of July, and the next day took command of the army, drawing his sword under an ancient elm."
"Why, just think!" exclaimed Walter, "it took him nearly two weeks to travel from Philadelphia to Boston, while now we could do it in less than two days. No wonder it took so long to fight the British and drive them out of our country!"
"I think we'd do it in less than half that time now," said Max. "We could move so much faster, besides raising a great deal bigger army; to say nothing of the navy, that I believe has done better in every one of our wars than the land forces. I remember to have read that the army Washington took command of then consisted of only seventeen thousand men, only fourteen thousand five hundred of them fit for duty; that they were without needed supplies of tents or clothing or as much as nine cartridges to a man."
"Yes; it's a wonder Washington wasn't completely discouraged," remarked Evelyn. "I think he surely would have been if he had not put his trust in God and the righteousness of our country's cause."
"No doubt it was that which strengthened him for the long and arduous struggle," said Mrs. Travilla. "Washington was, as I said a moment since, a man of prayer; he looked to God for help in the hour of his country's sorest need, and surely his prayers were heard and answered."
"Yes, Mamma," said Rosie; "I remember reading that he would go into the woods to pray privately for his bleeding country and his suffering soldiers; that some one happened to see him alone there in prayer with the tears coursing down his cheeks. Oh, it's no wonder that with such a leader and in so righteous a cause, our arms were victorious in spite of the fearful odds against us!"
"And it was God who gave us such a leader," responded her mother, "and gave him wisdom and courage for his work, and final success in carrying it on to the desired end."
"Wasn't he a member of the Continental Congress before his election as commander-in-chief of the armies?" asked Rosie.
"Yes," replied her mother. "So was Patrick Henry; and he, when asked whom he considered the greatest man in that body, replied, 'If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.'"
"How long did Washington stay there close to Boston, Papa?" asked Gracie.
"He carried on the siege for eight months, then on the 17th of March, 1776, succeeded in driving the British away."
"Then did he take possession of the town and stay there awhile?"
"He stayed until April, then went to New York, reaching there on the 13th. Soon after he went to Philadelphia to confer with Congress, then back to New York.
"While he was there anxiously awaiting an attack from the British, the Declaration of Independence, just passed by Congress, was sent him. The troops were quickly paraded, and the Declaration read at the head of the army.
"In the orders of the day Washington said to the troops, 'The General hopes that this important event will serve as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and courage, as knowing that the peace and safety of his country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms.'
"But I cannot tell you now the whole story of Washington's services to his country in the war for independence, to say nothing of all that he did for her afterward."
"I think we will read about it after we go home to Woodburn," the Captain said.
"Frederick the Great was a great admirer of Washington," remarked Mr. Keith. "He is said to have pronounced Washington's masterly movements on the Delaware the most brilliant achievements recorded in military annals. And Lossing tells us of a portrait of himself which Frederick sent to Washington accompanied by the very gratifying words, 'From the oldest general in Europe to the greatest general in the world.' As for myself, I must say that I think Washington's success, in spite of all the difficulties and discouragements he had to encounter, was something most wonderful, and was given him in answer to prayer, and because he put his trust in God and looked to Him for wisdom and for help."
"He was certainly one of the most unselfish of men," remarked Violet. "What other man would have refused with scorn and indignation, as he did, the suggestion that his army would like to make him a king?"
"Oh, did they want to make him king, and tell him so?" asked Gracie.
"Yes; didn't you know that?" returned Lulu.
"Papa, won't you tell about it?" Grace asked, turning to her father.
"I will, daughter," he answered in a kindly, affectionate tone, and taking in his the hand she had laid upon his knee.
"The battle of Yorktown, which practically secured the independence of our country, was fought in October, 1781, but the treaty of peace was not signed till Jan. 20, 1783; so our armies were not disbanded, and officers and soldiers were sorely tried by their pay being delayed, and feared, not without reason, that they might be disbanded without Congress making proper provision for meeting their just claims.
"Some of the officers began to doubt the efficiency of the Government, and of all republican institutions, and talked among themselves as to whether it might not be better to establish a monarchy instead; and at length one of them was deputed to confer with Washington on the subject.
"He did so, – it seems in writing, – and even ventured to suggest for him the title of king.
"But, as you have just heard, Washington rebuked the writer severely, saying he was at a loss to conceive what part of his conduct could have given encouragement to an address that seemed to him big with the greatest mischiefs that could befall his country; that if he was not deceived in the knowledge of himself, they could not have found a person to whom their schemes were more disagreeable.