DICK WHITTINGTON.

Tuapeka Times, Volume II, Issue 60, 3 April 1869, Page 3

DICK WHITTINGTON.

BY MES. NUGENT WOOD, AUTHOR OP " BUSH FLOWERS."

Any one who is in the habit of visiting Mr. Braithwaite's establishment in High-street as often as I do, must have observed a picture, whether ill or well executed I am not prepared to say, but undoubtedly pleasant and true to life of our ancient friend Dick Whittington. A common name enough it is ; it might as well be Smith, or Jones, or any other man ; but knowing that there is attached to that name a story at once real and romantic, interesting and instructive ; we involuntarily pause to look long and earnestly at the hero of our childish days, our first ideal love, Richard Whittington, Esq., Lord Mayor of London. And the artist has certainly intended the picture to tell its tale to all who wish, to hear it ; to speak, if I may say so, not only of that one Dick Whit•tingfpn, but of scores, hundreds of others whom we can image in our own minda as we gaze upon his beautiful work. There is shewn just a village lad who may be English, Irish, or Scotch, American, or Australian, but would be in any country a fine specimen of youth ; a sturdy sprig of manhood ; young, innocent, half timid, yet by no means a coward ; setting out on the uncertain and perilous voyage to the golden land of wealth and honour. Tired and hungry, the country boy begins to Tepent hia rash "act; finds his pockets light, his feet sore, and the way long and rough ; he thinks with yearning love of all ha has left behind, and with shrinking horror of what is yot to come, and makes up his mind to go no further; when suddenly the chime of bells breaks upon his ear. He swings his bundle round on the other arm while he bends forward to liaten to - the sweet sounds. Bells, only bells; somebody ringing bells and yet the boy raises head and hand, and drinks in the notes which refresh and invigorate him, he* knows not how or why. Music must have charms; thoughts must clothe themselves in language. Heaven's message must be made distinct to the dull oars of mor^

tality, and so the bells ring clearer, louder, more sweetly to his eager fancy, and they say,

" Turn again Whitting-ton Lord Mayor of London."

And in his childlike faith, believing what he has been taught, that there is a place for every one in the wide world, and that God helps those that help themselves, he shoulders the swag once more, and marches off with bravo heart and firm resolve towards the great lonely city where those wondrous chimes had birth. All know the sequel : how he rose to be a great man ; how he told the truth and was rewarded for it ; how he invested in a cat which was a quicker fortune to him than a mob of cattle would be to us ; how he married his employer's daughter, and became a knight and a gentleman, and three times Lord Mayor of London. But this 13 not the end of Dick Whittington's story, although had it been, it would still have been worth preserving and remembering, and fit for b. oth children and elders to read and profit by. JEvery example of endurance, I courage, and success is a help to those who make up their minda to mount the ladder^of fame.

Lives of great men all remind us, j We can make our lives sublime ; And departing leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time." Who would care to sit down in slothful content when he reads of men who, like Whittington, set" forth to seek their fortunes without even enough to buy a meal, and yet by patient toil, steady self-denial and brave endurance attained at last a name and a position which was a proud heritage for them and their children after them, " Were a man ever so benighted or forgetful of his high calling, there is always hope of one who actually and earnestly works — in idleness alone there is perpetual despair*" Blessed is he who has found his work and learned to love it ; let him not complain. From the heart of the true worker rises the true j colistial force, breathed into him by his Creator to make him remember his his nobleness/Jm immortality, and he feels and knows that the possibilities of; a good work are diffused through earth and heaven, though undiscoverablejto those who fear and faint by the way. The battle of life in most cases must be fought up hill, and the greater the struggle the greater the victory. Shakespeare himself was the son of a butcher,, and had but few advantages ; Cardinal Woolsey was the same ; John Gibson, the great sculptor, was by trade a carpenter ; and Hugh Miller, the most learned man of tlieae learned days was for all the early days of his life a stonernason|in°a Scottish*quarry, In fact, the greatest naval and military heroes ; the greatest painters, naturalists, physicians, and authors, have worked their way through poverty, hardship and difficulty, to the goal v/hich once seemed beyond their reach, almost beyond their understanding, and what men have done men can do. The road is open to all; the reward freely offerd to the kigkest or tlie lowest -wlao Las -truly earned 'it. Should ye see afar off that worth winning, . Set out on the journey with trust ; No heed if your path at beginning Should be among brambles and duet. Though it ie but by footsteps ye do it, And hardships may hinder and stay ; Keep a heart and be sure youil get through it,

For where^there's a will^ there's a way. But if we want to learn the real leßSon that Whitting ton's; story is intended to teach us, we must not forget that he was* &[ great man because he dedicated the health sent him by Providence to noble enda, and was great in being good. The legend tells us that he endowed charities, built hospitals and asylums, taught and practised charity through all his life. The beggars of London were fed at his princely gateS; little children were rescued from worse than death by his gentle hand, and the castles of vice and sin OTerthrown by his fearless benovelence. So in Faith, Hope, and Charity, he enjoyed his own life and blessed the life of those around him. His very love for the cat which he little thought would prove so valuable, shewed his affection for all helpless things. Poor pussy was his first pensioner; but as he grew 'and prospered, the sweet grace which thinketh no evil, grew and expanded in his soul. The generous heart which out of half a crown could spare a shilling to those poorer than himself, gave readily large donations when he himself became a wealthy man. " Small beginnings make great endings." No proverb more true or more practical.

A traveller through a dusty road Strewed across on the lea, And one took root, and sprouted up, .And grew Into a tree. Some sought its shade at evening time To breathe its early vows, And ago was please 1 in heat of noon To bask beneath its boughs. The dormouse loved it* dangling twigs The birds sweet music bore, It stood a glory in Its place, A blessing evermore. A little spring had lost its way Amid the gross aud fern ; A passing stranger scooped a well Where weary men inigUt turn, He walled it in, and hung with care A ladle at the brink.

Ho thought not of the deed ho did, But judged that toil might drink. He passed again, and lo ! the well By summers neTer dried, Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues And saved a life beside. A dreamer dropped a random thought, 'Twas old and yet, twas new ; A simple fancy of the brain, But strong in being ti ae. It shone upon a genial mind, And lo ! its lighb became A lamp of life, a beacon my, A monitory flame. The thought was small, its issue great; A watch-firo ou tho hill,! It sheds its radiance far adown, And cheers the valley still. A nameless man, amid a crowd That throngedjthe daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, Unstudied from the heart. A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath, It raised a brother from the dust, And saved a soul from death O germ ! O fount ; O word of love 1 O thought at random cast 1 Ye were but little at the first, Yet mighty at the last ! And so it is, and will be always. Those wlio would succeed must be content to begin at the beginning and "creep afore ye gang." It comes home to us now, for no doubt there are many wise people m the world, who would say of our present undertaking " What can a little reading and sixpence a week do towards the formation of a Hospital for such a district as this." But the sixpences mount up into pounds, and the readings continue, and when we feel we are struggling for the right, there is no such word as, impossible. One year ago, I was almost ready to creep into a Hospital myself, and lay down the life of which i" had grown weary ; but a gracious Providence transplanted me into the more genial clime of Svritzerß, and gave me work to do, and health to do it with. So in my humble way I mean to press forward gratefully to the glorious^ privilege of comforting the sick and afflicted; and when sceptics smile at my weak, womanly endeavours, I can answer in the words of the brave j knight of old, " My strength is as the strength of ten. Because my heart is pure. And how do we know but that here at Switzers ; yes, in this \xtj room itself, there may not ben, future Lord Mayor of somewhere or other ; a ISTero ; perhaps aa great as any thrice made Lord Mayor of London. How proud we would be of the gilded coach, the first beginnings of which were found on Frenchman's Hill. How we would drink the health in bright red wine of any one who had fished a nobleman's fortune out of Carnie's Race; and stranger things hare happened. Ah I said before, the way is open to all. the bells of love, courage, and hope will cheer the weary toiler ; the Victoria cross will glitter on the breast of any who lead a forlorn hope ; the Bhield of endurance will preserve him from many a. Wow. Courage must be his good broadsword, and trust in Gtod jiis chief protection. He must take for hia motto, Qra et lalora, toil and pray ! and then lay lance in rest, and onward to the fight. And if success should come ; if some one amongst this audience to-night should reach the topmost step of the ascent, and be cheered and flattered, and made famous, I am vain enough to believe that they will not be ashamed to own before the world that a woman's voice talking about a colored print in the schoolhouse at Switzers, had been to them the first chime of Dick "Whifclington's welcome bells.