ONE cold winter a merchant vessel, bound from Jamaica to England; arrived in the West India Docks. The cargo was soon unloaded; and gladly did each sailor leave the ship after the long and tedious voyage. Soon they were dispersed to their different homes and friends. One, however, was left behind. Nobody claimed him; no loving mother clasped the sailor boy to her heart; no little brothers or sisters hailed his return to the happy fireside of the English home. Jimmy, the little negro cabin boy, was discharged from the ship, sent adrift desolate and forlorn. His life on board ship had been tolerably happy; but what will he do now? Poor Jimmy wandered about the docks till it grew dark, then was turned out. He walked along the streets crying and shivering, wishing himself again in his own warm, sunny land. How full of sorrow is the heart of the little stranger now! And who will henceforth care for the poor negro boy? Ah, dear little children, Jesus will. The invisible eye of God’s providence was watching and following his wandering footsteps. God who cares for the sparrows, and clothes with so much beauty the flowers of the fields, did not forsake dear Jimmy in his loneliness.
A kind gentleman, whom the Lord put in his path, as he sent the ravens to feed Elijah the prophet, by the brook Cherith (1 Kings 17:33Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself by the brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. (1 Kings 17:3)), said to him, “Where are you going, my boy?” Jimmy, startled, looked up and said, “Nowhere, sir; no home for me here.” “Don’t cry like this, my lad; come along with me; don’t be afraid, I will take you to a home.” As you will imagine, dear readers, Jimmy did not long hesitate; he walked by the side of that kind gentleman, who took him to the Boys’ Refuge, Great Queen Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The kind master welcomed the boy at once, spoke gently to him, and he was very soon surrounded by the other boys, and made happy and comfortable. His black shining face, with mischievous eyes—not full of tears now, but full of joy—amused them not a little; so he found himself the center of no small attraction for awhile.
A Sunday school is held every Sunday evening, at 7 p.m., at the Refuge, where voluntary teachers come to teach the Word of God to the boys. Jimmy was put in a lady’s class. He was not very quick, nor as sharp as English boys are; but he was gentle, tractable, and very affectionate. The truth of the Bible had to be taught him, line upon line, precept upon precept—here a little, there a little. His mind could not receive much at a time. He could read a little, too; for his mother, to whom he was much attached, had sent him to a day school in Jamaica.
One Sunday evening his teacher was trying to make him understand, and the other boys also, how Jesus loves little children, when Jimmy said, “Teacher, me think you just like my moder.” “Am I, dear? I am very glad.” “Well, I never,” cried all the boys, laughing outright, “what a compliment to pay to teacher; and we won’t have it! Your mother is a black woman, with a face shining like polished boots, with thick lips, and a flat nose beside. And look at teacher’s face—how white it is!” “No matter that,” said Jimmy; “teacher just like my moder, I knows.” “Never mind, boys,” she said, “I know what he means. If Jimmy loves Jesus, my Saviour, then God will prove Himself to be his heavenly Father (John 8:4242Jesus said unto them, If God were your Father, ye would love me: for I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me. (John 8:42)). God does not look at the color of the skin; for He has made both the black boy and the white boy; but He looks at the heart. Thus Jimmy thinks I look like his mother because I love him, as his mother did, and he feels the power of kindness shown unto him.”
The summer passed away pleasantly for the Refuge boys, between work and play. Jimmy was put to the shoemaking, which is rather a favorite trade with them. Christmas time came round again, and great preparations were made in decorating the rooms prettily with mottoes and wreaths of evergreens. All the inmates were looking forward to the grand general treat, just like other children do at a time of rejoicing.
Jimmy took his part in all the proceedings, though he was not well. The climate of England did not suit his constitution, and he took a severe cold, from which he never recovered. At length the night came round, and those who have seen the sight of that annual entertainment for the benefit of the boys, the teachers, and friends, cannot easily forget it. Ragged boys and ragged girls, master and mistress, are all one that night—all stiffness is put aside for the time being. Jimmy was sitting on a form quietly watching. The children’s play was rather too boisterous and noisy for him. His teacher sat by his side; she took hold of his hand, and said, “Well, dear, and what do you think of the treat? Did you ever see such a sight in Jamaica?” “No, teacher, I never did; it is very nice.” “It is a happy scene, my child, as far as it goes, bat; which will soon fade and pass away. Listen! we read in the Bible, God’s book, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him” (1 Cor. 2:99But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. (1 Corinthians 2:9)). He looked up, and said slowly, tremulously, “Jimmy thinks he will soon die and go to God,” “Do you think then, dear child, that God will receive you?” “Yes; you said many times that Jesus, the Son of God, died, to save bad black boys like me; you read it out of the Bible, and you say all there is true, and that the blood of Jesus can wash all Jimmy’s sins away.” “Yes, that’s it, my boy; don’t let it go; we are saved, saved, eternally saved, through the blood of Jesus, the Lamb of God.”
You see this was the way he spoke, like a lisping child. Yet he knew he was a sinner, and needed a Saviour. The Holy Spirit taught him. After this he lay for some time in the dormitory of the Refuge in his clean little bed, wrapped up in warm flannel, suffering much for a few short months with great patience, without murmur or complaint. The boys made most tender nurses, and every care was taken of him. His teacher visited him regularly, prayed with and read to him, until the 8th of March, 1863. Early on that Sunday morning the Lord called him, summoning his happy spirit from the body of sin and suffering. Shortly before he died he called to the boy who nursed him so lovingly. “William,” he said, “Jimmy is black, but Jesus has made him white.” His teacher, who had seen him late on Saturday, had perceived a great change in his appearance, so she hastened early to the Refuge on the Sunday morning. On her entering, she was told that he was gone. She ran upstairs to his bedside; the sheet covered her dear Jimmy’s face she drew it aside, and kissed the cold forehead, and wept many tears for his mother’s sake. As she gazed on that calm, peaceful countenance she was reminded of the word, “I am black, but comely, O ye daughters a Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon” (Song of Sol. 1:55I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. (Song of Solomon 1:5)). Thus ended Jimmy’s life of fourteen springs. Let us praise the Lord together for his tender pity in having thus brought him to the Refuge for the destitute and homeless, where Jesus met, with him—the Refuge of the soul, the never-failing Friend of all who put their trust in Him.