The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales in Verse - Part 6
Library

Part 6

They, having tasted G.o.d's forgiving love, Their grat.i.tude for that rich blessing prove, By teaching children placed beneath their care How they may best escape from every snare, Be saved from h.e.l.l, and reach heaven's mansions bright, To dwell forever in the Savior's sight.

In Sunday School engaged twice each Lord's day, And hearing three discourses, some would say No time could then remain for aught beside; But this, my friends, has only to be tried.

For COOPER, in reserve, two hours still kept An Elder's invitation to accept, Him to accompany to his home, and there Join in sweet conversation, hymn or prayer.

Thus mostly pa.s.sed his Sabbaths for two years, Which kept him free from many doubts and fears; Enabled him to work at business still With easy mind, and with right hearty will, And find that Wisdom's ways are pleasantness, While all her paths are peace and heart-felt bliss.

But little now remains for us to note, Of grief endured, or of true pleasure sought, While he remained in his dear native place, The pain of leaving which he had to face.

Except Religion, he had but one theme, That much engaged his mind in each day-dream.

This one was Emigration, which increased In strength till his apprenticeship had ceased.

Accounts from different Colonies he read-- Their capabilities, and state of trade; The various climates next he pondered o'er, And Canada preferred still more and more.

He learned, indeed, the heat and cold were great; But thought that Nature's works would compensate For what one suffered from her climate's rigor; So preparation soon was made with vigor.

His father's family no objection raised, As they had friends there who the country praised.

Yet all thought well to seek the Lord's direction; Secure His aid and fatherly protection.

This done, they did no longer hesitate To take the steps required in change so great.

The kind employers of both man and son Showed plainly that their confidence was won; Each made them offers if they would remain-- Of which they had no reason to complain.

The sire, at that one place, employed had been For something over twenty years, I ween.

There he wrought hard--but for a decent wage-- And was approaching fast toward old age; So, dare not longer such a place engage.

While William's natural romantic turn Led him all offers, good and ill, to spurn.

He thought of little but Canadian farms, And heeded not Rebellion's loud alarms, [Footnote: The Rebellion of 1837.]

Which his old master pointed out to him, To put a stop to such a foolish whim.

Yet it caused them sincerest grief of heart From all kind friends and relatives to part, Without a prospect of beholding more Each much-loved face, on dear Old England's sh.o.r.e.

At last arrived that most important day, When they from all must tear themselves away, And feel, what Emigrants had felt before, That parting scenes to tender hearts are sore.

Their Christian brethren did them all commend To their kind Father, Savior, Guide and Friend, And gave to them, as pledge of their regard, A Bagster's Bible--G.o.d's own precious Word.

Their kind, deep feelings, other friends displayed By various gifts, till parting time delayed.

And these love-tokens sensibly affect The Emigrants, as proof of their respect; And often, when they view them even now, A shade might seem to cross each thoughtful brow.

a.s.sociation, most mysterious thing!

What striking wonders thou hast power to bring!

Aided by thee, we can review each day A hundred scenes, though thousand miles away, A single thought, amidst much happiness, May call up others which give sore distress.

At other times, reverse of this is true, Most pleasing things are placed before our view.

But to return; the first of May appears-- A day for fond embrace and shedding tears!

Some few go with the friends to see them off, Nor seek to hide their tears, though fools may scoff.

They take the boat; the signal's made to start; The _"Water-Witch"_ shoots forward like a dart; Some lingering looks, some tokens of adieu-- Sweet town, dear friends, and all, is lost to view!

Why felt not COOPER then in rhyming mood?

Why did he slight the Muse, who should be wooed?

Why did he not pour forth a parting song Expressive of his feelings--always strong?

His loving heart was painfully oppressed, As for some nights he had but little rest; Most weighty cares, too, seemed his mind to fill, Or he might then have sung with right good will.

They onward sail, and PRESTON reach at noon; Then take the coach and travel further on.

At night they gain the port of LIVERPOOL, All greatly chilled, because the night was cool.

Dear relatives who live there, welcome give, And take them to the house in which they live.

Next day they visit many different docks, Or wondering view the buildings huge, in blocks.

Then seek a proper ship without delay, And, having found one, pa.s.sage money pay; Secure their berths, and place their goods on board, Commend themselves and friends unto the Lord, And buy such comforts as their means afford.

Mistakes about the charges, and delays, Gave them uneasiness for several days.

At last the vessel's towed toward the sea; And, Reader, for the present, rest with me; Or wait a moment while I briefly add That they, to leave this port, were truly glad!

BOOK V.

THE ARGUMENT.-Address to Commerce. Emigrants reach the Sea. Farewell to England. WILLIAM'S employments on board. Storm described. Reach Banks of Newfoundland. Foggy weather. Icebergs seen. Land seen. Emigrant's joy. Ship spoken. Cross Gulf of St. Lawrence. Enter River. Scenery, etc. Arrive before Quebec. To Montreal. Thence by Ottawa to Kingston.

Thence to Hamilton. Settle near Brantford, on a bush farm. Shifts for furniture. WILLIAM'S narrow escape from Death in logging. His relish of bush sights and sounds. Wants a companion. Resolution formed and kept.

Remarks incident to it. Conclusion.

Hail, peaceful Commerce! in thy glorious train Rich blessings come to those who thee maintain.

England by thee for centuries has been blest; Thy worth to her can scarcely be express'd.

By thy facilities the Scriptures spread From sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, on G.o.d's own errands sped!

Impelled by thee our ships proud Ocean bears, While each fair port a thriving aspect wears.

Millions of gold by thee are well employed, And the rich profits by each cla.s.s enjoyed.

Through thee great Nature's overflowing stores From distant lands are brought unto our doors; Increasing much our comfort and delight, Without abating any civil right.

Nay, more; producing, by thy sway, sweet bands To bind us to give Peace our hearts and hands; And thus to strike a death-blow to all war, Whose brutal spirit keeps our minds ajar.

Through thee our mammoth manufacturing places Send forth their wares to Earth's remotest races: By which means many thousand poor are fed, And trained to Industry--by Virtue led-- Use right the skill with which they are endowed; Of such like men may England long be proud, And ever foster, by good wholesome laws, Those trades which help so mightily her cause!

O, may that day be distant that shall bring Neglect of thee, from whom such good doth spring!

Hail, peaceful Commerce! still a hearty hail!

As I proceed with my unvarnished tale.

Our ship had not been long at Mersey's mouth Before a breeze sprung up from east by south; And then the welcome sound fell on the ear Of "Square the main yards! Sailors, do you hear?"

A hearty "Aye, Sir!" was the loud response, And she had glided into sea at once!

With haste they for the Northern pa.s.sage make, But that good breeze did them too soon forsake.

Awhile they lay becalmed, and then return, And reach the Southern pa.s.sage just at morn.

Soon, soon they lose the truly precious sight Of English sh.o.r.es, bathed in the morning light!

A few more hours, and land has disappeared; They see no more Old Albion's cliffs upreared.

Let us suppose that then this poor young man, In plaintive strains his Farewell thus began:

"Adieu, my native Land! a long Adieu!

Years, years must pa.s.s before again I view Thy much-loved sh.o.r.es, fast fading from my sight, Or scenes preserved in fondest memory bright!

Should I be spared to reach yon distant coast, Remembrances of thee will not be lost.

Should I be prospered in Canadian woods, With a sufficiency of this world's goods, I still with pleasure will look back to thee, And hail thy tokens of prosperity!

Will still remember, with a joyful heart, Each much-loved face--each interesting part.

O, may thy peaceful Arts still flourish round, And happiness in every nook be found!

May thy great Rulers feel an interest still In all thy weal--and duty thus fulfil!

Adieu, my Country! may'st thou ever be A Friend to Truth, and Mistress of the Sea!"

Now on the dark blue Ocean's bosom cast, Naught but the sea and sky are seen, at last, Save finny tribes, which, sporting in the deep, Seem swiftly past the n.o.ble ship to sweep; Or flights of birds returning from abroad, By instinct led, to charm each English wood.

With sails well filled, the vessel plows her way In gallant trim, nor heeds the dashing spray.

Yet WILLIAM'S time ne'er seemed to hang on hand; His days flew swiftly by, on sea or land.

Sometimes a book his close attention craves-- At times, for hours, he watches the dark waves, Or sits and gazes on that liquid blue, And calls up phantoms of strange shape and hue; Or tries to realize a shipwreck scene, Till he scarce knows but he through one has been; Or, having found a worthy Christian friend, In sweetest converse many hours would spend.

One storm they had--it was the only one-- Which lasted but a day, and then was gone.

He oft had longed most eagerly to see The foaming billows in their majesty; And now they came, with desperate fury fraught, As if they set all human skill at naught!

Strong and more strongly blows the mighty wind, Till the tall masts like merest saplings bend!

Anon, the vessel ships a weighty sea, Then all below is dread and misery; While the salt water pours in torrents down, As if inclined the Emigrants to drown!

Some women shriek, and children cry aloud, While men toward the hatchways quickly crowd, Not now inclined to utter oaths profane, Or break a jest a meed of praise to gain.

Some, on their knees, implore the "Virgin's" aid; And some true prayer is to the Savior made.

The wind abates, but still the surges roar, Hearts fearful beat, and consciences feel sore.

Ere long, the calm begins to be perceived And many feel as speedily relieved!

Some hasten to the deck to look abroad, But few are found returning thanks to G.o.d!

Yet some there were who truly grateful felt, And spake G.o.d's praise as they before Him knelt.