Part 1.
SOME time ago a captain whose habitual blasphemy, drunkenness and tyranny so disgusted the crew that some of the most fatal consequences might have taken place, but for his sudden and alarming illness. The mate took charge of the ship, and the captain, greatly afflicted, was left, by the unanimous voice of the crew, to perish in his cabin. He had continued nearly a week in this neglected state, when the heart of a poor boy on board was touched with the sufferings of this wicked man, and he determined, notwithstanding the’ opposition of the crew, to enter the cabin and speak to him. So, opening the state-room door, he called out:
“Captain, how are you?”
A surly voice replied, “What’s that to you; be off!”
Thus repulsed, the boy went on deck; but next morning he determined to make another attempt, and at the state-room door cried:
“Captain, hope you are better!”
“O, Bob, I’m very sick; been ill all night.” The boy, encouraged by this mild answer, drew nigh the bed place, and said:
“Captain, please let me wash your hands and face; it will refresh you much.”
The captain nodded assent. Having performed this kind office, the boy said:
“Please, master, let me shave you.” He was permitted to do this also; and he then proposed some tea. The captain had been a desperate and wicked man beyond many, and, as he knew he had no mercy to expect from his crew, so he was determined not to solicit any.
“I’ll perish,” said this obstinate arid perverse soul, “rather than ask one favor of them.” But the unsolicited and undeserved kindness of this poor boy found its way to the heart of this violent man; and in spite of all his daring, independent spirit, his heart melted, and his iron face displayed the starting tear. How many ways the Almighty has of gaining access to the hearts of His stubborn and rebellious creatures! A little captive maid directs the leprous Naaman, and a menial servant mildly subdues the haughty general into compliance with the prophet’s orders. (See 2 Kings, chap. 5.) The captain soon felt the good effects of the boy’s attendance, and therefore permitted him to do what he pleased in future for the alleviation of his pains or the restoration of his health. However, his weakness daily increased, and he became gradually convinced that he should not live many weeks at farthest. His mind was filled with increasing terror, as the prospects of death and eternity drew nearer to his confused and agitated view. Brought up amongst the worst of seamen in early life, he had imbibed all their principles, followed their practices, and despised remonstrance or reproof. A man-of-war had finished his education; and a long course of successful voyages, as master of a vessel, had contributed to harden his heart, and not only to induce him to say, “There is no God,” but to act under that persuasion. Alarmed at the idea of death, and ignorant of the way of salvation, with a conscience now thundering conviction to his guilty soul, he one morning burst into tears as Bob opened the cabin-door, and affectionately inquired,
“Well, master, how is it with you this morning?”
“Ah, Bob, I’m very bad; my body is getting worse and worse; but I should not mind that so much, were it not for my soul. O, Bob, what shall I do? I am a great sinner; I’m afraid I shall go to hell. I deserve it. Alas, Bob, I’m a lost sinner.”
“O, no, master,” said the boy, “don’t be alarmed. God is merciful, and I’m sure you’ll not be lost. He knows what sailors are, and I dare say He will save you.”
“No, Bob, no; I cannot see the least prospect of being saved. O, what a sinner I have been! What will become of me?”
His stony heart was broken, and he poured out his complaints before the boy, who strove all he could to comfort him, but in vain.
One morning the captain said, “O Bob, I’ve been thinking of a Bible. I know there is not one in the cabin: go forward and see if you can find one in the men’s chests.” The boy succeeded, and the poor dying man beheld him enter, with tears of joy.
“O Bob, that will do, that will do; you must read to me, and I shall soon know whether such a wicked man as I am can be saved, and how it can be done. Now, Bob, sit down on my chest, and read to me out of that blessed book.”
“Where shall I read, master?”
“I do not know, Bob; I never knew where to read myself; but try and pick out some places that speak about sinners and salvation.”
“Well, master, then I’ll take the New Testament; you and I will understand it better; for as my poor mother used to say, there is not so many hard words there.”
The boy read for more than two hours, while the captain listened with the eagerness of a man on the verge of eternity. Every word conveyed light to his mind, and his astonished soul soon beheld sin as he had never seen it before. The justice of God in his eternal condemnation struck him with amazing force; and though he heard of a Saviour, still the great difficulty of knowing how he could be saved, appeared a mystery unfathomable. He had been ruminating a great part of the night on some passages Bob had read, but they only served to depress his spirits and terrify his soul. The next morning he exclaimed:
“O Bob, I shall never live to reach the land. I’m dying very fast, you’ll soon have to cast me overboard; but all this is nothing—my soul, my poor soul! Ah, Bob, my dear lad, what will become of my soul? O, I shall be lost forever!”
“No, no, master, don’t be alarmed: I believe you will be saved yet,” replied Bob. “O Bob, pray for me: go down on your knees and cry for mercy! Do, Bob; there’s a good lad. God bless you for it. O, kneel down and pray for your poor wicked captain.” The boy hesitated, the master groaned, “God me merciful to me a sinner.” Both cried greatly.
“O Bob, for God’s sake, kneel down and pray for me.” Overcome by importunity and compassion, the boy fell on his knees, and with heavy sobs cried out:
“O Lord, have mercy on my poor dying captain. O Lord, I’m a poor, ignorant, wicked sailor boy. Lord, I don’t know what to say. Lord, the captain says I must pray for him, but I don’t know how. I am but a child. I should be glad to get him tea, or do anything I can for him, but, Lord, I don’t know how to pray for him. Lord have mercy on him. He says he shall be lost; Lord save him! He says he shall go to hell; Lord, take him to heaven! He says he shall be with devils; O, that he may be with angels; Don’t let him perish, O Lord. Thou knowest I love him, and am sorry he’s so ill. The men won’t come near him. I will pray whilst I can for him as long as he lives, but I can’t save him. O Lord, pity my poor captain: see how thin and weak he is! O, comfort his troubled mind. Lord, I never prayed before like this. O, help me, Lord, to pray for my master.”
Rising from his knees, he said, “There, master, I have done the best I could for you. Now, cheer up, I think you’ll go to heaven.” The captain was too much affected to speak. The simplicity, the sincerity, and humility of the lad’s prayer had so much impressed his mind, that he lay groaning inwardly with spiritual anguish, and wet his couch with his tears. Bob went on deck, for the scene had quite overcome him.
ML 09/17/1916