Annals of the Poor

by John Kendrick Bangs

  PART II.

  When we endeavour to estimate the worth of an immortal soul, we areutterly lost in the attempt. The art of spiritual computation is notgoverned by the same principles and rules which guide our speculationsconcerning earthly objects. The value of gold, silver, merchandize,food, raiment, lands, and houses, is easily regulated, by custom,convenience, or necessity. Even the more capricious and imaginary worthof a picture, medal, or statue, may be reduced to something of systematicrule. Crowns and sceptres have had their adjudged valuation; andkingdoms have been bought and sold for sums of money. But who can affixthe adequate price to a human soul? "What shall it profit a man, if heshall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a mangive in exchange for his soul?"

  The principles of ordinary arithmetic all fail here; and we areconstrained to say, that He alone who paid the ransom for sinners, andmade the souls of men his "purchased possession," can comprehend andsolve the arduous question. They are, indeed, "bought with a price," butare "not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold; but withthe precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and withoutspot." We shall only ascertain the value of a soul, when we shall befully able to estimate the worth of a Saviour.

  Too often have we been obliged to hear what is the price which sordid,unfeeling avarice has affixed to the _body_ of a poor Negro slave; let usnow attempt, while we pursue the foregoing narrative, to meditate on thevalue which Infinite Mercy has attached to his _soul_.

  Not many days after my first interview with my Negro disciple, I wentfrom home with the design of visiting and conversing with him again athis master's house, which was situated in a part of the parish nearlyfour miles distant from my own. The road which I took lay over a loftydown, which commands a prospect of scenery seldom exceeded in beauty andmagnificence. It gave birth to silent but instructive contemplation.

  The down itself was covered with sheep, grazing on its wholesome andplentiful pasture. Here and there a shepherd's boy kept his appointedstation, and watched over the flock committed to his care. I viewed itas an emblem of my own situation and employment. Adjoining the hill layan extensive parish, wherein many souls were given me to watch over, andrender an account of, at the day of the great Shepherd's appearing. Thepastoral scene before me seemed to be a living parable, illustrative ofmy own spiritual charge. I felt a prayerful wish, that the goodShepherd, who gave His life for the sheep, might enable me to be faithfulto my trust.

  It occurred to me, about the same time, that my young African friend wasa sheep of another more distant fold, which Christ will yet bring to hearhis voice. For there shall be one fold and one Shepherd, and all nationsshall be brought to acknowledge that He alone "restoreth our souls, andleadeth us in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." On theleft hand of the hill, as I advanced eastward, and immediately under itsdeclivity, extended a beautiful tract of land intersected by a large armof the sea, which (as the tide was fast flowing in) formed a broad lakeor haven of three miles in length. Woods, villages, cottages, andchurches, surrounded it in most pleasing variety of prospect. Beyondthis lay a large fleet of ships of war, and not far from it another ofmerchantmen, both safe at anchor, and covering a tract of the sea ofseveral miles in extent. Beyond this, again, I saw the fortifications,dockyards, and extensive public edifices of a large seaport town. Thesun shone upon the windows of the buildings and the flags of the shipswith great brightness, and added much to the splendour of the view.

  I thought of the concerns of empires and plans of statesmen, the fate ofnations and the horrors of war. Happy will be that day when He shallmake wars to cease unto the end of the earth, and peace to be establishedin its borders.

  In the meantime, let us be thankful for those vessels and instruments ofdefence, which, in the hands of God, preserve our country from the handof the enemy and the fury of the destroyer. What, thought I, do we notowe to the exertions of the numerous crews on board those ships, wholeave their homes to fight their country's battles and maintain itscause, whilst we sit every man under his vine and fig-tree, tasting thesweets of a tranquillity unknown to most other nations in these days ofconflict and bloodshed!

  On my right hand, to the south and south-east, the unbounded oceandisplayed its mighty waves. It was covered with vessels of every size,sailing in all directions: some outward-bound to the most distant partsof the world; others, after a long voyage, returning home, laden with theproduce of remote climes: some going forth in search of the enemy; otherssailing back to port after the hard-fought engagement, and bearing thetrophies of victory in the prizes which accompanied them home.

  At the south-west of the spot on which I was riding extended a beautifulsemicircular bay, of about nine or ten miles in circumference, bounded byhigh cliffs of white, red, and brown-coloured earths. Beyond this lay arange of hills, whose tops are often buried in cloudy mists, but whichthen appeared clear and distinct. This chain of hills, meeting withanother from the north, bounds a large fruitful vale, whose fields, nowripe for harvest, proclaimed the goodness of God in the rich provisionwhich he makes for the sons of men. It is he who prepares the corn: hecrowns the year with his goodness, and his paths drop fatness. "Theydrop upon the pastures of the wilderness; and the little hills rejoice onevery side. The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also arecovered over with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing."

  "The roving sight Pursues its pleasing course o'er neighbouring hills, Of many a different form and different hue: Bright with the rip'ning corn, or green with grass, Or dark with clovers purple bloom."

  As I looked upon the numerous ships moving before me, I remembered thewords of the psalmist: "They that go down to the sea in ships, that dobusiness in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and hiswonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind,which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they godown again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. Theyreel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their witsend. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth themout of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the wavesthereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so hebringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh that men would praise theLord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children ofmen!" (Ps. cvii. 23-31.)

  The Negro servant then occurred to my mind. Perhaps, thought I, some ofthese ships are bound to Africa, in quest of that most infamous object ofmerchandise, a cargo of black slaves. Inhuman traffic for a nation thatbears the name of Christian! Perhaps these very waves, that are nowdashing on the rocks at the foot of this hill, have, on the shores ofAfrica, borne witness to the horrors of forced separation between wivesand husbands, parents and children, torn asunder by merciless men, whosehearts have been hardened against the common feeling of humanity by longcustom in this cruel trade. "Blessed are the merciful; for they shallobtain mercy." When shall the endeavours of _that_ truly Christian_friend_ of the oppressed Negro be crowned with success, in the abolitionof this wicked and disgraceful traffic? {103}

  As I pursued the meditations which this magnificent and varied sceneryexcited in my mind, I approached the edge of a tremendous perpendicularcliff, with which the down terminates. I dismounted from my horse, andtied it to a bush. The breaking of the waves against the foot of thecliff at so great a distance beneath me, produced an incessant andpleasing murmur. The sea-gulls were flying between the top of the cliffwhere I stood and the rocks below, attending upon their nests, built inthe holes of the cliff. The whole scene in every direction was grand andimpressive; it was suitable to devotion. The Creator appeared in theworks of his creation, and called upon the creatures to honour and adore.To the believer, this exercise is doubly delightful. He possesses aright to the enjoyment of nature and providence, as well as to theprivileges of grace. His title-deed runs thus: "All things are yours;whether Paul, or Apollos, o
r Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, orthings present, or things to come; all are yours; and ye are Christ's;and Christ is God's."

  I cast my eye downwards a little to the left towards a small cove, theshore of which consists of fine hard sand. It is surrounded by fragmentsof rock, chalk-cliffs, and steep banks of broken earth. Shut out fromhuman intercourse and dwellings, it seems formed for retirement andcontemplation. On one of these rocks I unexpectedly observed a mansitting with a book which he was reading. The place was near two hundredyards perpendicularly below me, but I soon discovered by his dress, andby the black colour of his features contrasted with the white rocksbeside him, that it was no other than my Negro disciple, with, as Idoubted not, a Bible in his hand. I rejoiced at this unlooked-foropportunity of meeting him in so solitary and interesting a situation. Idescended a steep bank, winding by a kind of rude staircase, formed byfishermen and shepherds' boys, in the side of the cliff down to theshore.

  He was intent on his book, and did not perceive me till I approached verynear to him.

  "William, is that you?"

  "Ah, massa! me very glad to see you. How came massa into dis place? Metought nobody here, but only God and me."

  "I was coming to your master's house to see you, and rode round by thisway for the sake of the prospect. I often come here in fine weather, tolook at the sea and shipping. Is that your Bible?"

  "Yes, sir; {105} dis my dear goot Bible."

  "I am glad," said I, "to see you so well employed. It is a good sign,William."

  "Yes, massa, a sign that God is goot to me; but me never goot to God."

  "How so?"

  "Me never tank him enough; me never pray to him enough: me never rememberenough who give me all dese goot tings. Massa, me afraid my heart isvery bat. Me wish me was like you."

  "Like me, William? Why, you are like me, a poor helpless sinner, thatmust, as well as yourself, perish in his sins, unless God, of hisinfinite mercy and grace, pluck him as a brand from the burning, and makehim an instance of distinguishing love and favour. There is nodifference; we have both come short of the glory of God: all havesinned."

  "No, me not like you, massa; me tink nobody like me,--nobody feel such aheart as me."

  "Yes, William, your feelings, I am persuaded, are like those of everytruly convinced soul, who sees the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and thegreatness of the price which Christ Jesus paid for the sinner's ransom.You can say, in the words of the hymn,--

  'I the chief of sinners am, But Jesus died for me.'"

  "O yes, sir, me believe that Jesus died for poor Negro. What wouldbecome of poor wicked Negro, if Christ no die for him? But he die for dechief of sinners, and dat make my heart sometimes quite glad."

  "What part of the Bible were you reading, William?"

  "Me read how de man upon de cross spoke to Christ, and Christ spoke tohim. Now dat man's prayer just do for me; 'Lord, remember me.' Lord,remember poor Negro sinner: dis is my prayer every morning, and sometimesat night too; when me cannot tink of many words, den me say de sameagain; Lord, remember poor Negro sinner."

  "And be sure, William, the Lord hears that prayer. He pardoned andaccepted the thief upon the cross, and he will not reject you; he will inno wise cast out any that come to him."

  "No, sir, I believe it; but dere is so much sin in my heart, it makes meafraid and sorry. Massa, do you see dese limpets, {107} how fast deystick to de rocks here? Just so, sin sticks fast to my heart."

  "It may be so, William; but take another comparison: do you cleave toJesus Christ, by faith in his death and righteousness, as those limpetscleave to the rock, and neither seas nor storms shall separate you fromhis love."

  "Dat is just what me want."

  "Tell me, William, is not that very sin which you speak of a burden toyou? You do not love it; you would be glad to obtain strength againstit, and to be freed from it; would you not?"

  "O yes; me give all dis world, if me had it, to be without sin!"

  "Come then, and welcome, to Jesus Christ, my brother; his blood cleansethfrom all sin. He gave himself as a ransom for sinners. He hath borneour grief, and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for ourtransgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement ofour peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed. The Lordhath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Come, freely come to Jesus, theSaviour of sinners."

  "Yes, massa," said the poor fellow, weeping, "me will come: but me comevery slow; very slow, massa: me want to run, me want to fly. Jesus isvery goot to poor Negro, to send you to tell him all dis."

  "But this is not the first time you have heard these truths!"

  "No, sir; dey have been comfort to my soul many times, since me hear gootminister preach in America, as me tell you last week at your house."

  "Well, now I hope, William, that since God has been so graciously pleasedto open your eyes, and affect your mind with such a great sense of hisgoodness in giving his Son to die for your sake; I hope that you do yourendeavour to keep his commandments: I hope you strive to behave well toyour master and mistress, and fellow-servants. He that is a Christianinwardly will be a Christian outwardly; he that truly and savinglybelieves in Christ, will show his faith by his works, as the apostlesays. Is it not so, William?"

  "Yes, sir; me want to do so. Me want to be faithful. Me sorry to tinkhow bat servant me was before de goot tings of Jesus Christ come to myheart. Me wish to do well to my massa, when he see me and when he notsee; for me know God always see me. Me know dat if me sin against mineown massa, me sin against God, and God be very angry with me. Beside,how can me love Christ if me do not what Christ tell me? Me love myfellow-servants, dough, as I tell you before, dey do not much love me;and I pray God to bless dem. And when dey say bat tings, and try to makeme angry, den me tink, if Jesus Christ were in poor Negro's place, hewould not revile and answer again with bat words and temper, but he saylittle and pray much. And so den me say noting at all, but pray to Godto forgive dem."

  The more I conversed with this African convert, the more satisfactorywere the evidences of his mind being spiritually enlightened, and hisheart effectually wrought upon by the grace of God.

  The circumstances of the place in which we met together contributed muchto the interesting effect which the conversation produced on my mind. Thelittle cove or bay was beautiful in the extreme. The air was calm andserene. The sun shone, but we were sheltered from its rays by thecliffs. One of these was stupendously lofty and large. It was white assnow; its summit hung directly over our heads. The sea-fowls were flyingaround it. Its whiteness was occasionally chequered with dark greenmasses of samphire, which grew there. On the other side, and behind us,was a more gradual declivity of many-coloured earths, interspersed withgreen patches of grass and bushes, and little streams of water tricklingdown the bank, and mingling with the sea at the bottom. At our feet thewaves were advancing over shelves of rocks covered with a great varietyof sea-weeds, which swam in little fragments, and displayed much beautyand elegance of form as they were successively thrown upon the sand.

  Ships of war and commerce were seen at different distances. Fishermenwere plying their trade in boats nearer the shore. The noise of theflowing tide, combined with the voices of the sea-gulls over our heads,and now and then a distant gun fired from the ships as they passed along,added much to the peculiar sensations to which the scene gave birth.Occasionally the striking of oars upon the waves, accompanied by theboatmen's song, met the ear. The sheep aloft upon the down sometimesmingled their bleatings with the other sounds. Thus all nature seemed tounite in impressing an attentive observer's heart with affectingthoughts.

  I remained for a considerable time in conversation with the Negro,finding that his master was gone from home for the day, and had given himliberty for some hours. I spoke to him on the nature, duty, andprivilege of Christian baptism; pointed out to him, from a prayer-bookwhich I had with me, the clear and scriptural principles of our ownchurch upon that
head; and found that he was very desirous of conformingto them. He appeared to me to be well qualified for receiving thatsacramental pledge of his Redeemer's love; and I rejoiced in the prospectof beholding him no longer a "stranger and foreigner, but afellow-citizen with the saints, and of the household of God."

  "God," said I to him, "has promised to 'sprinkle many nations,' not onlywith the waters of baptism, but also with the dews of his heavenly grace.He says he will not only 'pour water on him that is thirsty,' but, 'Iwill pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thineoffspring.'"

  "Yes, massa," said he, "he can make me to be clean in heart, and of aright Spirit; he can purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; he canwash me, and I shall be whiter dan snow."

  "May God give you these blessings, and confirm you in every good gift!"

  I was much pleased with the affectionate manner in which he spoke of hisparents, from whom he had been stolen in his childhood; and his wishesthat God might direct them by some means to the knowledge of the Saviour.

  "Who knows," I said, "but some of these ships may be carrying amissionary to the country where they live, to declare the good news ofsalvation to your countrymen, and to your own dear parents in particular,if they are yet alive!"

  "Oh, my dear fader and moder! My dear gracious Saviour," exclaimed he,leaping from the ground as he spoke, "if dou wilt but save deir souls,and tell dem what dou hast done for sinner; but--"

  He stopped, and seemed much affected.

  "My friend," said I, "I will now pray with you, for your own soul, andfor those of your parents also."

  "Do, massa; dat is very good and kind: do pray for poor Negro souls hereand everywhere."

  This was a new and solemn "house of prayer." The sea-sand was our floor,the heavens were our roof, the cliffs, the rocks, the hills, and thewaves, formed the walls of our chamber. It was not, indeed, a "placewhere prayer was wont to be made;" but for this once it became a hallowedspot: it will by me ever be remembered as such. The presence of God wasthere. I prayed: the Negro wept. His heart was full. I felt with him,and could not but weep likewise.

  The last day will show whether our tears were not the tears of sincerityand Christian love.

  It was time for my return. I leaned upon his arm as we ascended thesteep cliff on my way back to my horse, which I had left at the top ofthe hill. Humility and thankfulness were marked in his countenance. Ileaned upon his arm with the feelings of a _brother_. It was arelationship I was happy to own. I took him by the hand at parting,appointed one more interview previous to the day of baptizing him, andbade him farewell for the present.

  "God bless you, my dear massa!"

  "And you, my fellow-Christian, for ever and ever!"