A HAPPY CHILDHOOD.
“The childhood shows the man
As morning shows the day.”
“OH, dearest mother, we have had such a splendid trip," cried the bright happy-faced boy as he bounded into the room, where the dearest of mothers sat in momentary expectation of her boy's return.
“I am so pleased, James," she replied, tenderly kissing the upturned face of her son." I have often thought of you, often prayed for you, often been anxious about you when the wind has howled around the coast.”
“Ah, but mother dear, you need not have been anxious about us. Sam is becoming an excellent sailor, and the slow old tub' behaved splendidly, although I must confess, we sometimes had a good deal of trouble with her when the strong cross currents swept up the channel. Oh, but I love a storm at sea," he cried enthusiastically.
The mother looked anxiously into the fearless face of her lad, and felt troubled. This love of daring, this mischievous recklessness, would, she felt certain, lead to disastrous consequences, if he were not very careful.
“We started at beautiful Brighton, dearest mother; then steered around the Isle of Wight, then right on to the Land's End. The birds which flocked around the cliffs of Cornwall were so grand, mother. I tried to catch a few of them, but they were too active for me.”
“James," replied his mother, with quiet earnestness, "God meant those birds to enjoy their liberty, just as you enjoy yours.”
“Yes, mother, I know; but I love flowers, and birds, and insects, and I want to collect specimens. Some day I may present some to the British Museum, and my name may appear amongst the great naturalists of the country.”
There was a long silence. The boy was cherishing with all a boy's irresistible impetuosity desires which he felt would be pleasing to the mother he loved so much.
“Mother, I want to go to sea," he cried at last, as though unable to keep his secret any longer within his own impatient breast.
“Ah, my dear James, God forbid!" she replied quietly, but with an intensity of feeling which brought tears into her kindly eyes. "God forbid, my son! I have prayed much for guidance for your future life, and I hope He has a different destiny in store for you.”
There was another painful silence, broken at last by the question, “James, do you love me?
The only answer the whole-hearted boy made was to rise quickly from his seat and throw his arms around his mother's neck. For a moment he hung there, and time after time kissed her. It was an incident of a moment only, but the remembrance of it lingered in his memory until that pathetic hour when, on an African plain, close to the borders of the gorgeous Nyanza, he laid down his life like a hero and a martyr.
This boy was Tames Hannington, whose heroic story lights up many a page of the dark history of Africa.
He was born on the 3rd of September, 1847, at Hurstpierpoint—a pretty village in the south of Sussex. Almost everything seemed to unite to make his childhood a happy one. His father, Mr. Charles Smith Hannington, was a Brighton merchant.
Success followed his close application to business.
He became a wealthy man, and wealth gave him a wide opportunity for the enlargement of his generous soul. He was blessed with a numerous family, and though he did not live to rejoice in the great work which has made James' memory a priceless legacy to the world, he did live to see most of his children rise up and call him blessed.
One son died at sea. James wanted to follow the same dangerous career. A love of the sea was inbred in him. It needed all his parents' prayers and exhortations to woo him from his boyish infatuation.
At the time of James' birth, the family occupied the luxuriant mansion of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint.
It stood in its own grounds. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and the birds sang from every tree-top. James spent his happy childhood in this beautiful spot, and a free, unrestrained childhood it was.
One of his greatest delights was to wander through the fields in search of birds and insects and flowers, and to sail his miniature boat on the two tiny ponds which stood close to the house.
James' father owned a small private yacht in which he often took his family on pleasure tours around the Southern coast. These trips were a source of great delight to the boy. He was irrepressible; always getting into mischief; always reckless of danger. He was at once the joy and the torment of his mother, to whom he was drawn by strong ties of affection, which grew all the stronger as the years rolled by. Innumer able stories, illustrating James' mischievous temper anent have been preserved. At seven years of age he fearlessly climbed to the top of the masts of the yacht, and was, on one particular occasion, found suspended from one of the highest arms in a very perilous position. Reproofs and admonitions were unavailing; serious "lectures" on the dangers he incurred by these juvenile pranks had not the least effect. His daring was in his nature, and it remained there until an intense, God-given earnestness made him apply his natural intrepidity in a way which produced glorious and abiding results.
When he was eleven years of age he and his elder brother, Samuel, then nearly seventeen years of age, were allowed by their father to undertake a yachting cruise in the English Channel. It was this happy voyage that filled James' mind with the idea of becoming a sailor. His father and mother had a long and anxious struggle with him before they could conquer this inclination. To a boy of his ardent, fearless temperament, a life on the sea, no doubt, possessed many charms. Eventually he yielded to his parents' wishes. The world has need to thank God that he did so. He would most assuredly have made a brave and skilful seaman. Though he failed most ingloriously in the vocation chosen for him by his father, he was led by devious paths to the accomplishment of a great and glorious work for God and humanity.