Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Back Cover

Title: Little Henry and his bearer
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00053280/00001
 Material Information
Title: Little Henry and his bearer
Alternate Title: Little Henry and his bearer Boosy
Story of Little Henry and his bearer Boosy
Physical Description: 64 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell ( Publisher )
Morrison and Gibb ( Printer )
Publisher: W.P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell
Place of Publication: Edinburgh
Manufacturer: Morrison and Gibb
Publication Date: 1884
Subject: Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conversion -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
British -- Social life and customs -- Juvenile fiction -- India   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conversion to Christianity -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Social life and customs -- Juvenile fiction -- India   ( lcsh )
Conversion narratives -- 1884   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1884
Genre: Conversion narratives   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: Scotland -- Edinburgh
Statement of Responsibility: by Mrs. Sherwood.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00053280
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002237416
notis - ALH7903
oclc - 63907768

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
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    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text


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Astllir of T"e Little Woodman.' etc





ENRY L---- was born at Dinapore
in the East Indies. His papa was
an officer in the Company's service,
and was killed in attacking a mud fort be-
longing to a zemeendar 1 a few months after
the birth of his son. His mamma also died
before he was a year old. Thus little Henry
was left an orphan when he was a very little
baby; but his dying mother, when taking her
last farewell of him, lifted up her eyes to
heaven, and said,' 0 God, I leave my father-
less child with Thee, claiming Thy promise
in all humility, yet in full confidence that my
I A landholder.


baby will never be left destitute; for in Thee
the fatherless find mercy.' The promise to
which she alluded is to be found in Jer.
xlix. 11: 'Leave thy fatherless children, I
will preserve them alive; and let thy widows
trust in me.'
As soon as Henry's mamma was dead, a
lady, who lived at that time in a large
puckah' house near the river between Patna
and Dinapore, came and took little Henry,
and gave him a room in her house, giving
strict orders to her servants to provide him
with everything that he wanted. But as she
was one of those fine ladies who will give
their money (when they have any to spare)
for the relief of distress, but have no idea
how it is possible for any one to bestow all
his goods to feed the poor, and yet want
charity, she thought that when she had
received the child, and given her orders to
her servants, she had done all that was
necessary for him. She would not after-
wards suffer Henry to give her the least
trouble, nor would she endure the smallest
SThe meaning of puckah is ripe, or strong; it here
means brick or stone.


inconvenience on his account. And thus the
poor child, being very young and unable to
make known his wants, might have been
cruelly neglected, had it not been for the
attention of a bearer, who had lived many
years with his papa, and had taken care of
Henry from the day that he was born.
When he was a very little baby, Boosy (for
that was the bearer's name) attended him
night and day, warmed his pap, rocked his
cot, dressed and undressed and washed him,
and did everything as tenderly as if he had
been his own child. The first word that
little Henry tried to say was 'Boosy;' and
when he was only ten months old, he used to
put his arms round his neck and kiss him,
or stroke his swarthy cheek with his delicate
When Henry was carried to the lady's
house, Boosy went with him; and for some
years the little child had no other friend than
his bearer. Boosy never left his choota sahib
except for two hours in the twenty-four, when
1 A servant, whose work is to carry a palanquin, but
who is frequently employed to take care of children.
2 Little master.


he went to get his khauna.1 At night he
slept on his mat at the foot of the child's cot;
and whenever Henry called, he was up in a
moment, and had milk or toast-and-water
ready to give him to drink. Early in the
morning, before sunrise, he took him out in
a little carriage which was provided for him,
or carried him in his arms round the garden.
When he brought him in, he bathed him and
dressed him, and gave him his breakfast and
put him in his cot to sleep; and all the day
long he played with him-sometimes carry-
ing him in his arms or on his shoulder, and
sometimes letting him walk, or roll upon the
carpet. Everybody who came to the house
noticed the kindness of Boosy to the child,
and he got presents from many people for his
goodness to Henry.
When Henry was two years old, he had a
dreadful illness; so alarming indeed was it,
that for many days it was thought he would
die. He had another very severe illness
when he was four years old, for he was never
a very healthy child. During the height of
these sicknesses, his bearer never left him;
I Food.


nor would he take any rest, even by the side
of his bed, till he thought the danger was
These things considered, it cannot be a
matter of wonder that this little boy, as he
grew older, should love his bearer more than
all the world besides; for his bearer was
almost his only friend, no one else taking
much thought about him. Henry could not
speak English, but he could talk with Boosy
in his language as fast as possible; and he
knew every word, good or bad, which the
natives spoke. He used to sit in the
verandah' between his bearer's knees, and
chew paun,, and eat bazar3 sweetmeats. He
wore no shoes nor stockings, but was dressed
in panjammahs,' and had silver bangles5 on
his ankles. No one could have told by his
behaviour or manner of speaking that he was
not of Indian origin; but his delicate com-
plexion, light hair, and blue eyes, at once
showed his parentage.
1 An open gallery or passage.
An intoxicating mixture of opium and sugar, etc.
3 A market. 4 Trousers.
5 Ornaments generally worn round the wrists and


Thus his life passed till he was five years
and a half old; for the lady in whose house
he lived (although he was taught to call her
mamma) paid him no kind of attention; and
it never occurred to her that it was right
to give him any religious instruction. He
used to see his bearer and the other natives
performing poojah,' and carrying about their
wooden and clay gods; and he knew that
his mamma sometimes went to church at
Dinapore: so he believed that there were a
great many gods, and that the God to whom
his mamma prayed at Dinapore was no
better than the gods of wood, and stone, and
clay, which his bearer worshipped. He also
believed that the river Ganges was a goddess,
and called Gunga, and that the water of the
river could take away sins. He believed,
too, that the AMussulmans were as good as
Christians, for his manna's klhaunsaumaun
had told him so. Henry was, moreover,
taught by the servants many things which
a little boy should not know; but the ser-
vants, being heathens, could not be expected
to teach him anything better, and therefore
SCeremony : offering. A kind of house-steward.


they were not so much to be blamed as the
lady who had undertaken the charge of him,
who might have been ashamed to leave the
child of Christian parents under the care of
such persons.
When Henry was five years old, a young
lady, who was just arrived from England,
came to reside for a while with his mamma.
She was the daughter of a worthy clergyman
in England, and had received from him a
religious education. She had brought with
her from home a box of Bibles, and some
pretty children's books and pictures. When
she saw poor little Henry sitting in the
verandah, as his custom was, between his
bearer's knees, with many other native ser-
vants surrounding him, she loved him, and
was very sorry for him; for indeed it is a
dreadful thing for little children to be left
among people who know not God. So she
took some of the prettiest coloured pictures
she had, and spread them on the floor of the
room, the door of which opened into the
verandah near the place where the little boy
usually sat. When Henry peeped in and
saw the pictures, he was tempted by them


to come into the room; but at first he would
not venture in without his bearer. After-
wards, when he got more accustomed to the
lady, he was contented that his bearer should
sit at the door, while he went in. And at
last he quite lost all fear, and would go in
by himself-nay, he never was more happy
than when he was with this lady; for she
tried every means to gain his love, in order
that she might lead him to receive such in-
structions as the time of her intended stay
with his mamma would allow her to give him.
She was very sorry when she found that
he could not speak English; however, she
was resolved not to be checked by this diffi-
culty. She taught him many English words,
by showing him things represented in the
coloured pictures, telling him their English
names; so that in a short time he coulf ask
for anything he wanted in English. She then
taught him his letters in one of the little
books she had brought from home, and from
his letters she proceeded to spelling; and so
diligent was she, that before he was six years
old he could spell any word, however diffi-
cult, and could speak English quite readily.


"While this young lady was taking pains,
from day to day, to teach little Henry to
read, she endeavoured by word of mouth to
make him acquainted with such parts of the
Christian religion as even the youngest ought
to know, and without the knowledge of
which no man could be a Christian; and she
did not like to wait until Henry could read
his Bible, before she would instruct him in
subjects of so much importance.
The first lesson of this kind which she
strove to teach him was, that there was only
one true God, and that all things were made
by Him,-namely, the glorious heaven, to
which those persons go who have been made
the children of God on earth; and the dread-
ful hell, prepared for those who die in their
sins; the world and all things in it; the sun,
the moon, the stars, and all the heavenly
bodies. And she was going to teach him
the following words from Col. i. 16: 'For
by Him were all things created, that are
in heaven, and that are in earth;' but no
sooner did little Henry understand that she
meant to teach him that there is but one
God, than he got very angry, and told her


that she did not speak a true word; for his
manmma had a God, and his bcarcr had a
god, and there were a great many gods be-
sides; and he ran out into the verandah, and
told his bearer what the chootee bebee had
said; and down he sat between his bearer's
knees, and would not come again to her that
day, although she brought out her finest
pictures and a new book on purpose to
tempt him.
The young lady did not fail to pray very
earnestly for little Henry that night, when
she was withdrawn to her room, and her
door shut. And her Father, on whom she
called in secret in the name of His beloved
Son, heard her prayer; for the next day
little Henry came smiling into her room,
having quite forgotten his ill-humour, and
she was now enabled to talk to him with
advantage on the same subject. And she
made him kneel down, and pray to God to
give him sense to understand the truth.
She had also provided herself with one of
the Hildoo gods made of baked earth; and
she bid him look at it, and examine it well
I Young lady.

HTIS J;1l:Al'ER ]:'OSY. 15

She then threw it down upon the floor, and
it was broken into a hundred pieces. Then
she said, 'Henry, what can this god do for
you ? It cannot help itself. Call to it, and
ask it to get up. You see it cannot move.'
And that day the little boy was convinced
by her arguments.
The next discourse which the young lady
had with Henry was upon the nature of God.
She taught him that God is a Spirit; that
He is everywhere; that He can do every.
thing; that He can see everything; that He
can hear everything; that He knows even
the inmost thoughts of our hearts; that He
loves that which is good, and hates that
which is evil; that He never had a begin-
ning, and never will have an end. She also
taught him that in this one and only true
God there are three Persons, namely, God
the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy
Ghost; and that these three Persons, al-
though none is before or after the other, per-
form different works or offices for man.
Henry now began to take pleasure in
hearing of God, and asked many questions
about Him. He next learned that God made


the world in six days, and rested from His
work on the seventh; and that He made
man and woman innocent at first. He then
was taught how our forefather Adam was
tempted, with Eve his wife, to eat the for-
bidden fruit; and how by this means sin
entered into the world, and the nature of
Adam becoming sinful, all we his children,
being born in his likeness, are sinful also.
Henry here asked what sin is.
Sin, my child,' answered the lady, 'is
whatever displeases God. If your mamma
were to desire you to come into her room, or
to do something for her, and you were to
refuse, would she not have reason to be dis-
pleased with you ?'
'Yes, I suppose so.'
'Or if you ask Boosy to fan you, or to
carry you in your palanquin, and Boosy does
something quite different; or if you desire
him to carry you one way, and he carries you
another-would he not do wrong?'
Yes, to be sure.'
'Well, then, whatever you do contrary to
the commands of God, displeases Him, and is


But the lady still found great difficulty in
making Henry understand the nature of sin;
for he had been so neglected that he did not
know right from wrong. He did not con-
sider a lie as sinful, nor feel ashamed of
stealing, unless it was found out. He
thought, also, that if anybody hurt him,
it was right to hurt him in return. After
several days, however, she made the subject
clear to him, and then further explained
how sin had corrupted all our hearts ; and
she made him repeat the following words
till he could say them quite well: 'The
Lord looked down from heaven upon the
children of men, to see if there were any
that did understand and seek God. They are
all gone aside, they are all together become
filthy; there is none that doeth good, no, not
one' (Ps. xiv. 2, 3).
She next made the little boy understand
that eternal death, or everlasting punishment,
is the consequence of sin; and he soon could
repeat two or three verses to prove this.
One was, 'The unrighteous shall not inherit
the kingdom of God' (1 Cor. vi 9); and
another, 'They shall look upon the carcases


of the men that have transgressed against me:
for their worm shall not die, neither shall
their fire be quenched; and they shall be an
abhorring unto all flesh' (Isa. Ixvi. 24).
And now the lady had brought Henry to
know that he and all the world were sinners,
and that the punishment of sin is eternal
death, and that it was not in his power to
save himself, nor for anything on the earth
to wash him from his sins; and she had
brought him several times to ask her with
great earnestness what he must do to be
saved, and how his sins could be forgiven.
and his heart freed from evil tempers. Hei
next lesson, therefore, was to explain to him
what the Lord Jesus Christ had done for
him-how 'God was manifest in the flesh,
justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached
unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world,
received up into glory' (1 Tim. iii. 16);
and how 'we have redemption through His
blood. He having made peace for us through
the blood of His cross' (Col. i. 14, 20).
Little Henry was particularly pleased
whenever he heard of our Saviour, and, by
divine grace, his heart seemed to be wonder-


fully filled with love for his Redeemer. And
he was so afraid of *:',lill1iil Him, that he
became careful of every word he said, and of
everything he did; and he was always asking
the young lady if this was right, and if that
was right, and if God would be angry with
him if he did this or that; so that in a short
time his whole behaviour was altered. He
never said a bad word, and was vexed when
he heard any other person do it. He spoke
mildly and civilly to everybody. He would
return the salamn1 of the poorest coolie2 in
the bazar. If anybody had given him a
rupee,3 he would not spend it in sweetmeats
or playthings, but he would change it into
pice,4 and give it to the falceers5 who were
blind or lame, or such as seemed to be in
real distress, as far as it would go.
One day Henry came into the lady's
room and found her opening a box of books,
I Health: salutation.
SA kind of low caste of men, who have no trade, but
,aork at any kind of common n employment.
A silver coin of the value of half-a-crown.
Beggars: a religious order of men, something like
monks and dervises.


'Come,' said she, 'Henry, help me to unpack
these books, and to carry them to my book-
case.' Now, while they were thus busy, and
little Henry much pleased to think that he
could make himself useful, the lady said,
'These books have different kinds of covers,
and some are larger than others, but they all
contain the same words, and are the book of
God. If you read this book, and, with God's
help, keep the sayings written in it, it will
bring you to heaven; it will bring you to
where your beloved Redeemer is, to the
throne of the Lamb of God, who was slain
for your sins.'
'Oh, I wish,' said Henry,' that I had one
of these books! I will give you all my
playthings, ma'am, and my little carriage, for
one of them.'
The lady smiled, and said, 'No, my dear;
keep your playthings and your little carriage
too. You shall have any one of these books
you like best.'
Henry thanked the lady with all his heart,
and called Boosy in to give his advice whether
he should choose a book with a purple
morocco cover or onu with a red one. When


he had fixed upon one, he begged a bit of silk
of the lady, and carried it to the tailor to
make him a bag for his new Bible; and that
same evening he came to the lady to beg her
to teach him to read it. So that day he
began: and he was several days over the
first chapter of Genesis; but the next chapter
was easier, and the next easier still; till,
very soon, he was able to read any part of
the Bible without hesitation.
With what joy and gratitude to God did
the young lady see the effect of her pious
labours! She had, in the space of a year
and a half, brought a little orphan from the
grossest state of heathen darkness and igno-
rance to a competent knowledge of those
doctrines of the Christian religion which are
chiefly necessary to salvation. She had put
into his hand the Book of God, and had
taught him to read it; and God had, in an
especial manner, answered all her prayers for
the dear child.
The time was now coming on very fast
when she must leave little Henry; and the
thought of this parting was very painful to
her. Some days before she set out on her


journey, she called him into the room, and
questioned him concerning the things which
she had taught him, directing him, as often
as he could, to give his answers from the
Bible. Her first question was, 'How many
Gods are there ?'
HENRY. 'There is one God; and there is
none other but He' (Mark xii. 32).
LADY. Do we not believe that there are
three Persons in this one God?
HENRY. 'There are three that bear record
in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the
Holy Ghost: and these three are one' (1
John v. 7).
LADY. What do you mean by the Word ?
HENRY. The Word is the Lord Jesus Christ.
LADY. Do you know that from the Bible ?
HENRY. Yes; for St. John says, in the first
chapter of his Gospel, 'In the beginning was
the Word, and the Word was with God, and
the Word was God. He was in the world,
and the world was made by Him, and the
world knew Him not.'
LADY. Did God make man good at first ?
HENRY. Yes; for in the first chapter of the
Bible, the last verse, it is written, God saw


everything that He had made, and, behold, it
was very good.'
LADY. Are men very good now ? Can you
find me one person who deserves to be called
HENRY. I need not look into the Bible to
answer that question. I need but just get
into the palanquin, and go into the bazar,
and show you the people there: I am sure
I could not find one good person in all the
LADY. But I think, Henry, you might spare
yourself the trouble of going into the bazar to
see how bad human creatures are: could you
not find proofs of that nearer home ?
HENRY. What, our servants, you mean ?
Or perhaps the ladies who are in the hall
with my mamma ? they laughed at the Bible
at breakfast. I know what they meant very
well; and my mamma laughed too: I am
sure nobody can say that they are good.
LADY. No, my dear; those poor ladies are
not good: it would be misleading you to say
that they are. But, as we cannot make them
better by speaking ill of them in their ab-
sence, it would be as well not to mention


them at all, unless it were in prayer to God
that He would turn their hearts. But to re-
turn to my question--you need not go so far
as the hall for an answer to it. There is a
little boy in this very room, called Henry:
can he be said to be a good boy ? A very few
months ago, that little boy used to tell lies
every day; and only yesterday I saw him in
a passion, because the sais' would not let
him get on the back of one of the coach-
horses; and I think, but I am not sure, that
he gave the sais a blow.
HENRY. I know it was very wicked; but I
had no stick in my hand, and therefore I
hope I did not hurt him. I hope God will
give me grace never to do so again. I gave
the sais all that I had left of my rupce this
morning; and I told him that I was very
LADY. I mentioned it, my dear, that you
might know where to look for an answer to
my question.
HENRY. Oh! I know that I am not good.
I have done many, many naughty things,
which nobody knows of-no, not even Boosy.
IA servant who has the charge of a horse.


And God only can know the naughtiness of
my heart.
LADY. Then you think yourself a sinner ?
HENRY. A very great one.
LADY. Where do sinners go when they die ?
HENRY. 'The wicked shall be turned into
hell, and all the nations that forget God' (Ps.
ix. 17).
LADY. If all wicked people are turned into
hell, how can you escape ?
HEXNY. If I believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ, I shall be saved. Stay one moment,
and I will show you the verse. Believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved' (Acts xvi. 31).
LADY. What! if you believe in the Lord
Jesus Christ, shall you go to heaven with
all your sins? Can sinful creatures be in
heaven ?
HENRY. No; to be sure not. God cannot
live with sinners. He is of purer eyes than
to behold evil' (Hab. i. 13). But if I believe
in the Lord Jesus Christ, He will take away
my sin; for His blood cleanseth from all
sin' (1 John i. 7); and He will give me a
new heart, and make me a new creature,


and I shall be purified as He is pure (1 John
iii. 3).
Now the lady was pleased with little
Henry's answers; and she thanked God in
her heart for having so blessed her labours
with the poor little boy. But she did not
praise him, lest he should become proud; and
she well knew that God resisteth the proud,
but giveth grace unto the humble' (Jas. iv. 6).
So she refrained from commending him; but
she said, 'What do you mean, my dear, by
being made quite new again ?'
HENRY. Before I knew the Lord Jesus
Christ, I used to think of nothing but naughty
things. I loved myself more than anybody
else. I loved eating fruit and sweetmeats;
and was so greedy of them, that I would have
told a hundred lies, I do think, for one mouth-
ful of them. Then I was passionate and
proud. I used to be so pleased when any-
body bowed to me, and said, 'Sahib.' And
you cannot think how cruel I was to all
kinds of little creatures I could get hold of,
even the poor cockroaches: I used to kill
them just for my own pleasure. But now I
do think my heart is beginning to change a


little-I mean a very little-for I gave all
my last sweetmeats to the mature's1 boy. But
still I know that my heart is far from being
clean yet; but God can make it white and
clean when He pleases.
LADY. You must pray every day, and
oftentimes in the day, and in the night when
you are awake, my dear child, that God will
send His Holy Spirit into your heart, to make
it clean and pure, and to lead and direct you
in all you do. Blessed are those, my dear
child, who love the Lord Jesus Christ; for
unto them the Spirit of truth' shall be re-
vealed, and it 'shall dwell with them, and
be in them' (John xiv. 17).
She then shut the door of the room; and
she and the little boy knelt down together
and prayed to God that He would, for HIia
dear Son's sake, create a clean heart in the'
child, 'and renew a right spirit within' him
(Ps. li. 10). When the young lady arose
from her knees, she kissed little Henry, and
told him, not without many tears, that she
must soon go away from him.
When Henry heard this news, for some
'A sweeper : a person of low caste, who eats everything.


moments he could not speak; at length he
cried out, 'What shall I do when you are
gone ? I shall have nobody to speak to but
my bearer, for my mamma does not love me;
and I shall spend all my time with the na-
tives. I shall never more hear anybody talk
of God. Oh! I very much fear that I shall
become wicked again.'
'My poor child,' said the lady, do not
doubt the power of God. When our Saviour
was going to leave His disciples, He said,
"I will not leave you orphans ; I will come
to you" (John xiv. 18). And do you think, my
child, that after the blessed Lord God has
made Himself known unto you, and adopted
you as a dear son, that He will leave you
comfortless ? Think how good He was to call
you from the paths of destruction, and from
the way of hell. You knew not so much as
His holy name, and were living altogether
among the heathens. It was by His provi-
dence that I came here, that I remained here
so long, 'hat I loved you, and endeavoured
to teach you, and that I had a Bible to give
you. "Faithful is He," my beloved child,
I The word is orphans hi the original.


"who called you. He will preserve your
whole spirit and soul and body blameless unto
the coming of the Lord Jesus"' (1 Thess. v.
23, 24). She then sung averse of a hymn to
him, which he often repeated, and would try
to sing, when she was far away from him:-
'Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to save my soul from danger,
Interposed His precious blood.'1
Now it would take more time than I have
to spare to repeat the several conversations
which this young lady had with little Henry
before she went away. He cried sadly the
day she went. He followed her down to the
river-side, for she was going down to Berham-
pore, where she was soon afterwards married
to a very pious young man of the name of
Henry went on board the 7. ..... .,2 to take
leave of her. She kissed him many times
before they parted, and gave Boosy, who was
with him, four rupees luc:shish, that he might
continue to behave well to his little sahib.
SSung to the tune of the Sicilian Mariner's Hymn.
A kind of barge.


The last words almost that she said to Henry
were these: You must try, my dear child,
with the grace of God, to make Boosy a
Christian, that he may be no longer numbered
among the heathen, but may be counted
among the sons of God.'
"When the bundgerow was ready to sail, little
Henry took his last leave of the lady, and
came on shore, where he stood under the
shade of a Braminee fig-tree,' watching the
boat as it sailed down the broad stream of the
Ganges, till it was hidden by the winding
shore. Then Boosy, taking him up in his
arms, brought him back to his mamma's
house; and from that time he was as much ne-
glected as he had been before this good young
lady came, with this difference only (and that
indeed was a blessing for which I doubt not
he will thank God to all eternity), that he was
now able to read the Book of God, whereas
before he knew not even God's holy name.
Sometimes his mamma would let him eat
his :.. with her; but as she always em-
ployed herself at table (when not actually
I A tree that takes root downward from its branches.


eating) in smoking her hoookal, and as most
of her visitors did the same, the tiffin time
was very stupid to the little boy; for, instead
of pleasant and useful discourse, there was in
general nothing to be heard at these meals
but the rattling of plates and knives and forks,
the creaking of the punlkah,2 and the gurgling
of the water in the hookah, except his mamma
(which not unseldom happened) occasioned a
little variety, by scolding the servants and
calling them names in their own language.
So poor little Henry found no better com-
panion than his bearer; and he never was
more pleased than when he was sitting by
him in the verandah, reading his Bible to
And now the young lady's last words re-
turned to his mind, namely, 'You must try
to make Boosy a Christian.' But he did not
know how to begin this work. It seemed to
him that the heart of poor Boosy could only
be changed by the immediate interference of

SA kind of pipe, the smoke of which is drawn through
water, and the motion of the air through the water causes
a bubbling noise.
A large fan suspended from the ceiling.


God, so fond was he of his wooden gods and
foolish ceremonies, and so much was he afraid
of offending his gooroo.1 And in this respect
Henry judged rightly, for no one can come to
God without the help of God. Yet He has
pointed out the means by which we must
endeavour to bring our fellow-creatures to
Him; and we must, in faith and humility,
use these means, praying for the divine bless-
ing to render them effectual.
The first step which Henry took towards
this work was to pray for Boosy. After some
thought, he made a prayer, which was much
to this purpose: '0 Lord God, hear the
humble prayer of a poor little sinful child.
Give me power, 0 God, for Thy dear Son's
sake (who died for us upon the cross), to turn
the heart of my poor bearer from his wooden
gods, and to lead him to the cross of Jesus
Christ.' This prayer he never failed to repeat
every night, and many times a day; and from
time to time he used to talk to Boosy, and
repeat to him many things which the young
lady had taught him. But although Boosy
heard him with good-humour, yet lie did not
SA religious teacher or confessor,


seem to pay much heed to what the child
said, for he would argue to this purpose:
There are many brooks and rivers of water,
but they all run into the sea at last; so there
are a great many religions, but they all lead
to heaven. There is the Mussulman's way
to heaven, and the Hindoo's way, and the
C'ili.ti nl's way, and one way is as good as
another.' He asserted, also, that if he were
to commit the greatest sin, and were to go
immediately afterwards and wash in the
Ganges, he should be quite innocent. And a
great many other foolish things he had to say
to the same purpose, so that he sometimes
quite out-talked the child. But Henry was
so earnest in the cause he had undertaken,
that, although he might be silenced at one
time, yet he would often (after having said
his prayers and consulted his Bible) begin
the attack again. He would sometimes get
close to him, and look in his face and say,
'Poor Boosy poor Boosy! you are going the
wrong way, and will not let me set you right.
There is but one way to heaven: our Saviour,
the Lord Jesus Christ, is the way to heaven,
and "no man cometh unto God but by Him"'


(John xiv. 6). Then he would try to explain
who the Lord Jesus Christ is; how He came
down to the earth; that He took man's na-
ture upon Him; suffered and died upon the
cross for the sins of men; was buried, and
arose again on the third day, and ascended
into heaven; and is now sitting on the right
hand of God, from whence He will come to
judge the quick and the dead.
In this manner the little boy proceeded
from day to day; but Boosy seemed to pay
him little or no attention; nay, he would
sometimes laugh at him, and ask him why
he was so earnest about a thing of so little
consequence. However, to do Boosy justice,
he never was ill-humoured or disrespectful
to his little sahib.
Now it happened about this time that
Henry's mamma had occasion to go to Cal-
cutta; and, as she went by water, she took
Henry and his bearer in the budgerow with
her. Henry had not been well, and she
thought the change of air mig do him
good. It was at the end of the rains, ai that
season of the year when India is most green
and beautiful, although not most healthy.


When the budgerow came to anchor in an
evening, Henry used to take a walk with his
bearer; and sometimes they would ramble
among the fields and villages for more than
a mile from the river. Henry had all his life
been confined to one spot; so you may be
sure he was well pleased to see so many
different countries, and asked many questions
about the things which he saw. And often,
during these rambles, he used to have an
argument with Boosy concerning the great
Creator of all things; and Henry would say
to his bearer, that the great God, who made
all things, could not be like the gods which
he believed in, which, according to his ac-
counts of them, were more wicked and foolish
than the worst men.
Once, in particular-it was in one of those
lovely, places near the Raja-mehal hills-
Henry and his bearer went to walk. Henry's
mamma had during the day been very cross
to him, and the poor little fellow did not feel
well, although he did not complain; but he
was glad when he got out of the boat. The
sun was just setting, and a cool breeze blew
1 The hall of the rajah.


over the water, with which the little boy,
being refreshed, climbed without difficulty to
the top of a little hill where was a tomb.
Here they sat down, and Henry could not but
admire the beautiful prospect which was be-
fore them. On their left hand was the broad
stream of the Ganges winding round the
curved shore, till it was lost behind the Raja-
mehal hills.
The budgerow, gaily painted, was fastened
to the shore just below them; and with it
many lesser boats, with thatched and sloping
roofs. The dandies1 and native servants
having finished their day's work, were pre-
paring their khauna, in distinct parties,
according to their several castes, upon the
banks of the river-some grinding their
mussala,2 some lighting their little fires, some
washing their brass vessels, and others sitting
in a circle upon the ground, smoking their
cocoa-nut hooklcas.
Before them, and on their right hand, was
a beautiful country, abounding with corn-
fields, toes of trees, thatched cottages with
1 Boatmen.
2 A general name for spices, salt medicine, etc.


their little bamboo porches, plantain and
palm trees; beyond which the Raja-melal
hills were seen, some bare to their summits,
and others covered with jungle,' which even
now afford a shelter to tigers, rhinoceroses,
and wild hogs.
Henry sat silent a long time. At last he
said, 'Boosy, this is a good country-that is,
it would be a very good country if the people
were Christians. Then they would not be so
idle as they now are; and they would agree
together, and clear the jungles, and build
churches to worship God in. It will be
pleasant to see the people, when they are
Christians, all going on a Sunday morning
to some fair church built among those hills,
and to see them in an evening sitting at the
door of their houses reading the shaster2-I
do not mean your shaster, but our shaster,
God's book.'
Boosy answered, that he knew there would
be a time when all the world would be of one
religion, and when there would be no caste;
1 Uncultivated waste land, overrun with brushwood or
"* The Hindoo religions books.


but he did not know when that would be,
and he was sure he should not live to see it.
'There is a country now,' said Henry,
'where there are no castes, and where we all
shall be like dear brothers. It is a better
country than this: there are no evil beasts
there is no more hunger, no more thirst
there the waters are sure; there the sun does
not scorch by day, nor the moon smite by
night. It is a country to which I sometimes
think and hope I shall go very soon. I wish,
Boosy, you would be persuaded either to go
with me, or to follow me.'
What!' said Boosy, 'is sahib going to
Willaet ?' And then he said, he hoped not;
for he could never follow him through the
black water, as the Hindoos call the seas.
Henry then explained to him that he did
not mean England, but heaven. 'Sometimes
I think,' said he, 'when I feel the pain which
I did this morning, that I shall not live long.
I think I shall die soon, Boosy. Oh, I wish,
I wish I could persuade you to love the Lord
Jesus Christ !' And then Henry, getting up,
threw his arms around Boosy's neck, and
I Country ; but pencrallv applied to Europe.


begged him to be a Christian. 'Dear Boosy,
he said, 'good Boosy, do try to be a Christian.'
But poor little Henry's attempts were yet
quite ineffectual.
In little more than a month's time from
their leaving Dinapore, they reached Calcutta,
and were received into the house of a worthy
gentleman of the name of Smith. When
Henry's mamma was settled in Mr. Smith's
house, she found less inclination, if possible,
than ever to pay any attention to Henry
According to the custom in India, she must
pay the first visit to all her acquaintance in
Calcutta. Her dresses, too, having all been
made at Dinapore, did not agree with the
last European fashions which were come out.
These were all to be altered, and new ones
bought; and it was a good deal of trouble to
direct the tailor to do this properly. Her
hair was not dressed in the fashion; and her
ayah' was very stupid. It was many days
before she could forget the old way, and learn
the new one. So poor Henry was quite
forgotten in all this bustle ; and although he
was for several days very ill, and complained
1 A waiting-maid.


to his bearer that his side gave him great
pain, yet his mamma never knew it.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith once or twice remarked,
when they looked at Henry, that the child
was very pale, and that his eyes were heavy;
but his mamma answered, 'Oh, this is nothing;
the child is well enough. Children in India,
you know, have that look.'
It happened one afternoon, as Mr. and
Mrs. Smith and Henry's mamma were in
the drawing-room after tiffin, while the ladies
were giving their opinion upon a magazine,
which contained an account of the last
European fashion of carriages and dresses,
etc. (for I am sorry to say that Mrs. Smith,
although she had the best example in her
husband, had still to learn not to love the
world), Mr. Smith, half angry with them,
and yet not knowing whether he should
presume to give them a check, was walking
up and down the room with rather a hasty
step, when his eye, as he passed the door,
caught little Henry sitting on the mat at
the head of the stairs, between his bearer's
knees, with his Bible in his hand. His back
being turned towards the drawing-room door,


Mr. Smith had an opportunity of observing
what he was about without being seen. He
accordingly stood still, and listened; and he
heard the gentle voice of Henry, as he tried
to interpret the sacred book to his bearer in
the bearer's own language.
Mr. Smith at first could scarcely believe
what he saw and heard; but at last, being
quite sure he was not dreaming, he turned
hastily towards the ladies, exclaiming,
'Twenty-five years have I been in India,
and never have I seen anything like this.
Heaven be praised! truly is it written, Out
of the mouth of babes and sucklings Thou
hast perfected praise !" (Matt. xxi. 16.) Foi
shame! for shame! Mrs. Smith, will you
never lay aside your toys and gewgaws ?
Do give me that book, and I will let the
cook have it to light his fire with. Here
are two persons, who have been nearly fifty
years in the world, sitting together talking
of their finery and painted toys; while a
little creature, who eight years ago had not
breathed the breath of life, is endeavouring
to impart divine knowledge to the heathen.
" But God hath chosen the foolish things of


the world to confound the wise; and God
hath chosen the weak things of the world
to confound the things which are inift:,-"'
(1 Cor. i. 27).
My dear,' cried Mrs. Smith, 'surely you
forget yourself! What can you mean?-
Toys and finery! My dear, my dear, you
are very rude !'
Rude !' said Henry's mamma, 'rude in-
deed, Mr. Smith! And pray, sir, what do
you mean by saying, "Fifty years ?" Do
you suppose that I am fifty years old ?-
extraordinary, indeed !'
'I beg pardon,' said Mr. Smith. 'I did
not mean to offend. But there is that little
boy trying to explain the Bible to his bearer !'
'But surely,' said Henry's mamma, 'you
do not think that I am fifty years of age ?
You are mistaken by twenty years.'
MRs. SMITH. Oh! my dear madam, you
must excuse my husband. Whenever he is
a little angry with me, he tells me that I am
getting old. But I am so used to it, that I
never mind it.
MR. SMITH. Well, my dear, leave me, if
you please, to speak for myself. I am not


a man that disguises the truth. Whether I
speak or not, time runs on, death and eternity
approach. I do not see why it should be a
matter of politeness to throw dust in each
other's eyes- But enough of this, and too
much. I want to know the meaning of
what I but now saw-a little English child
of seven years of age endeavouring to explain
the Bible to his bearer. I did not even know
that the child could read.
Oh,' said Henry's mamma, this matter is
easily explained. I had a young lady in my
house at Patna, some time since, who taught
the child to read; for this I was obliged to
her. But she was not satisfied with that
alone: she made a Methodist, a downright
canting Methodist, of the boy. I never
knew it till it was too late.'
Mn. SMITI. A Methodist! What do you
mean, madam ?
'Indeed,' said Henry's mamma, 'the child
has never been himself since. Captain
D- of the -- Native Infantry, when
they were quartered at Dinapore, used to
have such sport with him! He taught him,
when he was but two years old, to call tiu


dogs and the horses, and to swear at the
servants in English- But I shall offend
Mr. Smith again,' she added. 'I suspect him
a little of being a Methodist himself. Am I
right, Mrs. Smith ?' And she laughed at
her own wit. But Mrs. Smith looked grave;
and Mr. Smith lifted up his eyes to heaven,
saying, 'May God Almighty turn your
heart !'
'Oh, Mr. Smith,' said Henry's mamma,
'you take the matter too seriously. I was
only speaking in jest.'
'I shall put that to the trial, madam,' said
Mr. Smith. 'If you really feel no ill-will
against religion, and people who call them-
selves religious, you will not refuse to let
me consider Henry as my pupil while you
remain in my house, which I hope will be
as long as you can make it convenient. You
have known me some years (I will not say
how many, lest you should be angry again),
and you will make allowances for my plain
'Well,' said Henry's mamma, 'we know
you are an oddity. Take your own way, and
let me take mine.' So she got up to dress


for her evening airing on the course; and
thus this strange conversation ended in good-
humour; for she was not, upon the whole,
an ill-tempered woman.
The same evening, his mamma being gone
out, Mr. Smith called Henry into his own
room, and learned from him all that he could
tell of his own history, and of the young
lady who had taught him to read his Bible,
and had advised him to try to make Boosy
a Christian. I will relate to you the last
part of this discourse which passed between
Mr. Smith and Henry.
MR. SMITIH. Do you think that Boosy's
heart is at all turned towards God ?
HENRY. No, I do not think that it is;
although for the last half-year I have been
constantly talking to him about God. But
he still will have it, that his own idols are
true gods.
Mn. SMITH. It is almost dangerous, my
dear little boy, for a child like you to dispute
with an heathen; for although you are in
the right, and he in the wrong, yet Satan,
who is the father of lies, may put words into
his mouth which may puzzle you, so that


your faith may be shaken, while his remains
HENRY. Oh, sir, must I give up the
hope of Boosy's being made a Christian ?
Poor Boosy! he has taken care of me ever
since I was born.
MR. SMITI. But suppose, my dear boy,
that I could put you in a better way of con-
verting Boosy-a safe way to yourself, and a
better for him ? Can Boosy read ?
HENRY. Only a very little, I believe.
MR. SMITH. Then you must learn to read
for him.
HENRY. How, sir?
Mn. SMITH. If I could get for you some
of the most important chapters in the Bible,
such as the first chapters of Genesis, which
speak of the creation of the world and the
fall of man, with the first promise of the
Saviour, and some parts of the gospel, trans-
lated into Boosy's language, would you try
to learn to read them to him ? I will teach
you the letters, or characters, as they are
called, in which they will be written.
HENRY. Oh I will learn them with joy.
MR. SaMTH. Well, my boy, come every


morning into my study, and I will teach
you the Persian characters; for those are
what will be used in the copy of the chapters
I shall put into your hands. Some time or
other the whole Bible will be translated in
this manner.
HEXRY. Will the words be Persian, sir ?
I know Boosy does not understand Persian.
MR. SMITH. No, my dear; the words will
be the same as those you speak every day
with the natives. When you have as much
of the Bible as I can get prepared for you
in this manner, you must read it to your
bearer every day, praying continually that
God will bless His holy Word to him. And
never fear, my dear, but that the Word of
God will do its work; 'for as the rain cometh
down, and the snow, from heaven, and re-
turneth not thither, but watereth the earth,
and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may
give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater;
so shall my word be that goeth forth out of
my mouth: it shall not return unto me void;
but it shall accomplish that which I please,
and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I
sent it' (Isa. Iv. 10, 11\ 'But do not, my


dear boy,' added Mr. Smith, 'argue and dis-
pute with your bearer about religion; you
are not yet able. Only read the Bible to
him, and pray for him continually, leaving
the rest with God.'
But, not to make my story too long, while
Henry's mamma remained at Calcutta, which
was more than a year, Henry received a
lesson every day from Mr. Smith in his
study; and Mr. Smith taught him the Persian
characters, and provided him with as many
chapters in the Bible in Hindoostanee as
he could get properly prepared in a short
time. These he had bound together in red
morocco, and presented them to Henry, not
without asking the blessing of God upon
How delighted was Henry, when he re-
ceived the book, and found that he could
read it easily! He was in his place on the
mat between Boosy's knees in a minute, and
you might have heard him reading from one
end of the house to the other, for he could
not contain himself for joy. Nor was he
contented with reading it himself; he must
make Boosy learn to read it too. And this


was brought about much sooner than you
would have supposed it possible; for, as
Henry learned the Persian letters from day to
day of Mr. Smith, he had been accustomed
afterwards to write them on a slate, and
make Boosy copy them as they sat together;
and so, by degrees, he had taught them all
to his bearer before he was in possession of
the Hindoostanee copy of the chapters.
Now, my boy,' said Mr. Smith, 'you are
in the safe way of giving instruction, in an
"ancient path cast up" by God (Jer. xviii.
15). Do not trust to the words of your own
wisdom, but to the Word of God. Hold fast
to the Scripture, dear boy, and you will be
safe. And be not impatient, if the seed you
sow should not spring up immediately.
Something tells me that I shall see Boosy a
Christian before I die; or if I do not see
that day, he that outlives me will.'
Now the time arrived when Henry's
mamma was to leave Calcutta. Indeed, she
had stayed much longer there than she had
at first proposed; but there were so many
amusements going forward, so much gay
company, so many fashionable dresses to


purchase, that she could not find in her heart
to leave them, although she was heartily
tired of Mr. Smith's company. She respected
him, indeed, as an old friend and worthy
man, but he had such particular ways, she
said, that sometimes she had difficulty to put
up with them.
She proposed, as she went up the country,
to stop at Berhampore to see Mrs. Baron.
When Henry heard of this, he was greatly
pleased; yet when he came to take leave of
Mr. Smith, he cried very much.
As they went up the river, Henry took
every opportunity of reading his chapters to
his bearer, when his mamma could not over-
hear him; and he had many opportunities
early in the morning, and in the afternoon
when his mamma was asleep, as she always
slept for an hour after tiffin. He proceeded
very well indeed; Boosy daily improved, at
least in his knowledge of the Bible; till the
weather, suddenly becoming excessively hot,
Henry was seized with a return of violent
pain in his side, and other very bad symp-
toms. He became paler and thinner, and
could not eat. His mam'oa. having no


company to divert her, soon took notice of
the change in the child, and began to be
frightened; and so was his bearer. So they
made all the haste they could to Berhampore,
that they might procure advice from the
doctors there, and get into a cool house, for
the boat was excessively hot; but, notwith-
standing all the haste which they made,
there was a great change in the poor little
boy before they reached Berhampore.
When they were come within a day's
journey of the place, they sent a servant for-
ward to Mrs. Baron's, so that, when the
budgerow stopped the next day near the
cantonments, Mrs. Baron herself was waiting
on the shore with palanqu ins, ready to carry
them to her house. As soon as the board
was fixed from the boat to the banks of the
river, she jumped out of her palanquin, and
was in the budgerow in a minute, with little
Henry in her arms. 'Oh, my dear, dear
boy !' she said, 'my dear, dear boy !' She
could say no more, so great was her joy; but
when she looked at him, and saw how very
ill he appeared, herjoy was presently damped,
and she said, in her haste, to his mamma,


'Dear madam, what is the matter with
Henry ? he looks very ill.'
'Yes,' said his mamma, 'I am sorry to say
that he is very ill; we must lose no time in
getting advice for him.'
'Do not cry,' dear Mrs. Baron,' said little
Henry, seeing the tears running down her
cheeks. We must all die-you know we
must-and death is very sweet to those who
love the Lord Jesus Christ.'
'Oh, my child,' said his mamma, 'why do
you talk of dying ? you will live to be a
judge yet, and we shall see you with seven
silversticks before your palanquin.'
I do not wish it, mamma,' said Henry.
The more Mrs. Baron looked at Henry, the
more she was affected. For some moments
she could not speak, or command her feelings
at all; but, after having drunk a little water,
she became more composed, and proposed
that they should all immediately remove to
her house. And when she found herself shut
up in her palanquin, she prayed earnestly to
God, that whether the sweet boy lived or
died, he might not be taken from her in his
sickness, but that she might, with the help of


God, administer holy nourishment to his
immortal soul, and comfort to his little weak
"When they were arrived at Mrs. Baron's
house, she caused little Henry to be laid on
a sofa by day in the sitting-room, and at
night in a room close by her own. The chief
surgeon of the station was immediately sent
for, and everything was done for little Henry
that the tenderest love could suggest.
Berhampore happened at that time to be
very full, and Henry's mamma, finding many
of her old acquaintance there, was presently
so deeply engaged in paying and receiving
visits, that she seemed again almost entirely
to forget Henry, and lost all her concern
about him, comforting herself, when she was
going to a great dinner or ball, that Mrs.
Baron would be with him, and he would be
well taken care of. But it is a poor excuse
to make for our neglect of duty, and one, I
fear, that will not stand at the day of judg-
ment, to say that there are others that will
do it as well for us.
Notwithstanding all the surgeon could do,
and all the care of Mrs. Baron, Henry's illness


increased upon him, and every one had reason
to think that the dear little fellow's time on
earth would soon come to an end. Mr. and
Mrs. Baron were by turns his almost constant
attendants: when one left him, the other
generally took the place by his couch. It
was very interesting, and rather uncommon,
to see a fine lively young man, like Mr.
Baron, attending a little sick child, sometimes
administering to him his food or medicine,
and sometimes reading the Bible to him;
but Mr. Baron feared God.
When Henry first came to Berhampore, he
was able to take the air in an evening in a
palanquin, and could walk about the house,
and two or three times he read a chapter in
the Hindoostanee Bible to Boosy; but he
was soon too weak to read, and his airings
became shorter and shorter. He was at last
obliged to give them quite up, and to take
entirely to his couch and bed, where he
remained until his death.
When Boosy saw that his little sahib's end
was drawing on, he was very sorrowful, and
could hardly be persuaded to leave him night
or day, even to get his khauna. He did


everything he could think of to please him
(and more, as he afterwards said, to please
his dying master than his God). He began to
read his chapters with some diligence, and
little Henry could lie on his couch, listening
to Boosy as he read (imperfectly indeed) the
Word of God in Hindoostanee. Often he
would stop him, to explain to him what he
was reading; and very beautiful sometimes
were the remarks which he made, and better
suited to the understanding of his bearer than
those of an older or more learned person
would have been.
The last time that his bearer read to him,
Mrs. Baron sitting by him, he suddenly
stopped him, saying, 'Ah, Boosy, if I had
never read the Bible, and did not believe in
it, what an unhappy creature should I now
be! for in a very short time I shall "go down
to the grave, to come up no more" (Job vii. 9)
that is, until my body is raised at the last
day. When I was out last I saw a very
pretty burying-ground, with many trees
about it. I knew that I should soon lie
there-I mean that my body would; but I
was not afraid, because I love my Lord Jesus


Christ, and I know that He will go down
with me unto the grave. I shall sleep with
Him, and."I shall be satisfied, when I awake,
with His likeness"' (Ps. xvii. 15). He
then turned to Mrs. Baron, and said, I
know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He
shall stand at the latter day upon the earth:
and though after my skin worms destroy this
body, yet in my flesh shall I see God" (Job
xix. 25, 26). O kind Mrs. Baron! who, when
I was a poor sinful child, brought me to the
knowledge of my dear Redeemer, anointing me
with sweet ointment (even His precious blood)
for my burial, which was so soon to follow.'
'Dear child!' said Mrs. Baron, hardly able
to preserve her composure, 'dear child, give
the glory to God!'
'Yes, I will glorify Him for ever and ever,'
cried the poor little boy; and he raised him-
self up in his couch, joining his small and
taper fingers together; 'yes, I will praise Him,
I will love Him. I was a grievous sinner;
every imagination of the thought of my heart
was evil continually; I hated all good things.
I hated even my Maker: but He sought me
out; He washed me irom my sins in His own


blood; He gave me a new heart; He has
clothed me with the garments of salvation,
and hath put on me the robe of righteousness;
He hath abolished death, and brought life
and immortality to light"' (2 Tim. i. 10).
Then turning to his bearer, he said,' 0 my
poor bearer what will become of you "if
you neglect so great salvation ?"' (Heb. ii. 3.)
' O Lord Jesus Christ,' he added, 'turn the
heart of my poor bearer !' This short prayer,
which little Henry made in Hindoostanee,
his bearer repeated, scarcely knowing what he
was doing. And this, as Boosy afterwards
told Mr. Smith, was the first prayer he had
ever made to the true God-the first time he
had ever called upon His holy name.
Having done speaking, little Henry laid
his head down on his pillow, and closed his
eyes. His spirit was full of joy, indeed, but
his flesh was weak; and he lay some hours
in a kind of slumber. When he awoke, he
called Mrs. Baron, and begged her to sing
the verse of the hymn he loved so much,
'Jesus sought me,' etc., which she had taught
him at Dinapore. He smiled while she was
singing, but did not speak.


That same evening Boosy, being left alone
with his little master, and seeing that he was
wakeful and inclined to talk, said, 'Sahib, I
have been thinking all day that I am a
sinner, and always have been one; and I
begin to believe that my sins are such as
Gunga cannot wash away. I wish I could
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ!'
When Henry heard this, he strove to raise
himself up, but was unable on account of his
extreme weakness; yet his eyes sparkled with
joy. He endeavoured to speak, but could not,
and at last he burst into tears. He soon,
however, became more composed, and point-
ing to his bearer to sit down on the floor by
his couch, he said, 'Boosy, what you have
now said makes me very happy. I am very
very happy to hear you call yourself a sinner,
and such a one as Gunga cannot make clean.
It is the Spirit of God through Jesus Christ
which has made this known to you. He has
called you to come unto Him. Faithful is
He that calleth you. I shall yet see you, my
poor bearer, in "the general assembly and
church of the first-born"' (Heb. xii. 23).
'You were kind to me when my own father


and mother were dead. The first thing I
can remember is being carried by you to the
3Mangoe tope, near my mamma's house at
Patna. Nobody loved me then but you; and
could I depart in peace and leave you be-
hind me in the way to hell ? I could not
bear to think of it! Thank God! than
God! I knew He would hear my prayer;
but I thought that perhaps you would not
begin to become a Christian till I was gone.
When I am dead, Boosy,' added the little boy,
'do you go to Mr. Smith at Calcutta. I can-
not write to him, or else I would; but you
shall take him one lock of my hair (I will get
Mrs. Baron to cut it off, and put it in paper),
and tell him that I sent it. You must say
that Henry L-, who died at Berhampore,
sent it, with this request, that good Mr. Smith
will take care of his poor bearer when he has
lost caste for becoming a C'h1 ii-li.' Boosy
would have told Henry that he was not quite
determined to be a Christian, and that he
could not think of losing caste; but Henry,
guessing what he was going to say, put his
hand upon his mouth. Stop! stop!' he
said; 'do not say words which will make


God angry, and which you will be sorry for
by and by; for I know you will die a
Christian. God has begun a good work in
you, and I am certain that He will finish it.'
"While Henry was talking to his bearer,
Mrs. Baron had come into the room, but, not
wishing to interrupt him, she had stood be-
hind his couch; but now she came forward.
As soon as he saw her, he begged her to take
off his cap, and cut off some of his hair, as
several of his friends wished for some. She
thought that she would endeavour to comply
with his request. But when she took off his
cap, and his beautiful hair fell about his pale
sweet face-when she considered how soon
the time would be when the eye that had
seen him should see him no more-she could
not restrain her feelings; but, throwing down
the scissors, and putting her arms round
him, O my child my dear, dear child !' she
said, 'I cannot bear it! I cannot part with you
The poor little boy was affected; but he
gently reproved her, saying, If you love me,
you will rejoice, because I go to my Father"'
(John xiv. 28).


There was a considerable change in the
child during the night, and all the next day
till evening he lay in a kind of slumber; and
when he was roused to take his medicine or
nourishment, he seemed not to know where
he was, or who was with him. In the even-
ing he suddenly revived, and asked for his
mamma. He had seldom asked for her be-
fore. She was in the house, for she was not
so hard-hearted (thoughtless as she was) as to
go into gay company at this time, when the
child's death might be hourly expected. She
trembled much when she heard that he asked
for her. She was conscious, perhaps, that she
had not fulfilled her duty by him. He re-
ceived her affectionately when she went up
to his bedside, and begged that everybody
would go out of the room, saying that he had
something very particular to speak about to
her. He talked to her for some time, but
nobody knows the particulars of their con-
versation, though it is believed that the care
of her immortal soul was the subject of the
last discourse which this dear little boy held
with her. She came out of his room with
her eyes swelling with crying, and his little


well-worn Bible in h-i Lanrd (which he had
probably given to her, as it always lay on
his bed by him); and, shutting herself in
her room, she remained without seeing any
one till the news was brought that all
was over. From that time she never gave
her mind so entirely to the world as she had
formerly done, but became a more serious
character, and daily read little Henry's Bible.
But now to return to little Henry. As
there are but few persons who love to medi-
tate upon scenes of death, and too many are
only able to view the gloomy side of them,
instead of following, by the eye of faith, the
glorious progress of the departing saint, I will
hasten to the end of my story. The next day
at twelve o'clock, being Sunday, he was de-
livered from this evil world and received into
glory. His passage was calm, although not
without some mortal pangs. 'May we die
the death of the righteous, and may our last
end be like his !' (Num. xxiii. 10.)
Mi and Mrs. Baron and his bearer attended
him to the last moment, and Mr. Baron fol-
lowed him to the grave
Some time after his deaths mamma caused


a monument to be built over his grave, on
which was inscribed his name, Henry L- ,
and his age, which at the time of his death
was eight years and seven months. Under-
neath was a part of his favourite verse, from
1 Thess. v., altering only one word-' Faithful
is He that called me.' And afterwards was
added, by desire of Mr. Smith, this verse from
Jas. v. 20-'He which converteth the sinner
from the error of his way, shall save a soul
from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins.'
When I first visited Berhampore, I went
to see little Henry's monument. It was then
white and fair, and the inscription very plain;
but I am told that the damp of that climate
has so defaced the inscription, and blackened
the whole monument, that it cannot now be
distinguished from the tombs that surround
it. But this is of little consequence, as all
who remember Henry L-- have long ago
left Berhampore; and we are assured that
this dear child has himself received 'an in-
heritance that fadeth not away' (1 Pet. i. 4).
' The world passeth away, and the lust there-
of ; but he that doeth the will of God abideth
for ever' (1 John ii. 17).


Every person who reads this, will, I think,
be anxious to know what became of Boosy.
Immediately after the funeral of his little
sahib, having received his wages, with a hand-
some present, he carried the lock of hair,
which Mrs. Baron sealed up carefully, with a
letter from her to Mr. Smith. He was re-
ceived into Mr. Smith's family, and removed
with him to a distant part of India, where
shortly after he renounced caste, and declared
himself a Christian. After due examination,
he was baptized, and continued till his death
(which happened not very long after) a sin-
cere Christian. It was on the occasion of the
baptism of Boosy, to whom the Christian
name of John was given, that the last verse
was added to the monument of little Henry.

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