yards from the shore. The man who was in her, finding all
his attempts futile, had lain on his oar, and was kneeling in the
sternsheets, apparently in supplication. Newton could not resist the
appeal; it appeared to point out to him that he was summoned to answer
the call made upon Providence. The boat was now a quarter of a mile
further down the river than where he stood, and about three miles from
the town and shipping, both of which were no longer discernible from the
thickness of the weather. Newton threw off his coat, and plunging into
the agitated water, the cold of which nearly checked his respiration,
swam off into the stream in a direction so as to allow himself to fetch
to windward of the boat. He was soon carried down to it by the rapidity
of the tide, and, as he approached, he shouted to announce his presence.
The man in the boat started up at the sound of a human voice, and
perceiving Newton close to the bows, leant over and extended his hand
towards him. Newton seized hold of it, and then was whirled round by the
tide fore and aft with the side of the boat, with such violence as
nearly to drag the other man out, and half fill the boat with water. It
was with great difficulty, although assisted by the occupant, that
Newton contrived at last to get in; when, exhausted with the efforts he
had made, he remained a few seconds without motion; the man, whom he had
thus risked his life to save, perceiving his condition, and not speaking
to him.
"We have no time to lose," said Newton, at last: "take an oar, and let
us pull in for the shore. If once we are swept down to the narrows there
will be little chance for us."
The other complied, without speaking; and, after a few minutes'
exertion, the boat was safely landed on the Liverpool side of the river.
"The Lord be praised!" ejaculated Newton's companion, as he laid on his
oar. "I did not call upon _Him_ in vain; your accident has been the
means of my preservation."
"How do you mean?" inquired Newton.
"Why, did you not fall overboard?" replied the other.
Newton then explained to his companion what we have already related to
the reader, ending his narrative with the observation, that when he
perceived him praying for assistance in his peril, he could not resist
the appeal.
"God will reward you, young man," continued he: "and now I will explain
to you how it was that I was adrift, like a bear in a washing-tub. My
first mate was below. I had just reliev
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