At the age of ten, David Livingstone went to work in the cotton factory as a piecer, and after some years was promoted to be a spinner. The first half-crown he earned he gave to his mother. With part of his first week's wages he bought a Latin text-book and studied that language with ardor in an evening class between eight and ten. He had to be in the factory at six in the morning and his work ended at eight at night. But by working at Latin until midnight he mastered Vergil and Horace by the time he was sixteen. He used to read in the factory by putting the book on the spinning-jenny so that he could catch a sentence at a time as he passed at his work. He was fond of botany and geology and zoology, and when he could get out would scour the country for specimens.—Robert E. Speer, "Servants of the King."
(2046)
MISSIONARY, A LITTLE
"I can not afford it," said John Hale, the
rich farmer, when asked to give to the cause
of missions.
Harry, his wide-awake grandson, was grieved and indignant.
"But the poor heathen," he replied; "is it not too bad they can not have churches and schoolhouses and books?"
"What do you know about the heathen?" exclaimed the old man testily. "Do you wish me to give away my hard earnings? I tell you, I can not afford it."
But Harry was well posted in missionary intelligence, and day after day puzzled his curly head with plans for extracting money for the noble cause from his unwilling relative. At last, seizing an opportunity when his grandfather was in a good humor over the election news, he said: "Grandfather, if you do not feel able to give money to the missionary board, will you give a potato?"
"A potato?" ejaculated Mr. Hale, looking up from his paper.
"Yes, sir; and land enough to plant it in, and what it produces for four years?"
"Oh, yes!" replied the unsuspecting grandparent, settling his glasses on his calculating nose in such a way that showed he was glad to escape on such cheap terms from the lad's persecution.
Harry planted the potato, and it rewarded him the first year by producing nine; these, the following season, became a peck; the next, seven and a half bushels, and when the fourth harvest came, lo, the potato had increased to seventy bushels. And, when sold, the amount realized was put with a glad heart into the treasury of the Lord. Even the aged farmer exclaimed: "Why, I did not feel that donation in the least! And, Harry, I've been thinking that if there were a little missionary like you in every house, and each one got a potato, or something else as productive, for the cause, there would be quite a large sum gathered."—Friend for Boys and Girls.
(2047)
MISSIONARY ACCOMPLISHMENTS
When the American missionaries came to
the Sandwich Islands, they struck off the
shackles from the whole race, breaking the
power of the kings and chiefs. They set
the common man free, elevated his wife to
a position of equality with him, and gave a
piece of land to each to hold forever. They
set up schools and churches, and imbued the
people with the spirit of the Christian religion.
If they had had the power to augment
the capacities of the people, they could
have made them perfect; and they would
have done it, no doubt.
The missionaries taught the whole nation to read and write, with facility, in the native tongue. I don't suppose there is to-day a single uneducated person above eight years of age in the Sandwich Islands! It is the best educated country in the world, I believe. That has been all done by the American missionaries. And in a large degree it was paid for by the American Sunday-school children with their pennies. I know that I contributed.—Samuel L. Clemens.
(2048)
MISSIONARY ADAPTATION
In 1881 James Robertson left the pastorate
to accept the newly created post of superintendent
of home missions for Manitoba
and the Northwest. He set off at once on his
first missionary tour, driving two thousand
miles, at first through heat and dust and
rain and then through frosts and blizzards.
He preached where he could, and was not
to be discouraged by any situation. Once,
coming to a settlement late on a Saturday
evening, where the largest building was the
hotel and the largest room the bar, he inquired
of the hotel man:
"Is there any place where I can hold a service to-morrow?" "Service?" "Yes, a preaching service." "Preaching? Oh, yes, I'll get you one," he replied with genial heartiness. Next day Mr. Robertson came into the bar, which was crowded with men. "Well, have you found a room for my
