THE AFRICAN SERVANT.
During a residence of some years' continuance in the neighborhood of the sea, an officer in the navy called upon me and stated that he had just taken a lodging in the parish for his wife and children, and that he had an African whom he had kept three years in his service.
"Does he know anything," I asked, "of the principles of the Christian religion?"
"Oh, yes, I am sure he does," answered the captain; "for he talks a great deal about it in the kitchen, and often gets laughed at for his pains; but he takes it all very patiently."
"Does he behave well as your servant?"
"Yes, that he does: he is as honest and civil a fellow as ever came aboard a ship or lived in a house."
"Was he always so well-behaved?"
"No," said the officer; "when I first had him he was often very unruly and deceitful; but for the last two years he has been quite like another creature."
"Well, sir, I shall be very glad to see him, and think it probable I shall wish to go through a course of instruction and examination. Can he read?"
"Yes," replied his master; "he has been taking great pains to learn to read for some time past, and can make out a chapter in the Bible pretty well, as my maid-servant informs me. He speaks English better than many of his countrymen, but you will find it a little broken. When will it be convenient that I should send him over to you?"
"To-morrow afternoon, sir, if you please."
"He shall come to you about four o'clock, and you shall see what you can make of him."
With this promise he took his leave. I felt glad to see him the next day, and asked:
"Where were you born?"
"In Africa. I was very little boy when I was made slave by the white men."
"How was that?"
"I left father and mother one day at home to go to get shells by the sea-shore; and, as I was stooping down to gather them up, some white sailors came out of a boat and took me away. I never see father nor mother again."
"And what became of you then?"
"I was put into ship and brought to Jamaica, and sold to a massa, who keep me in his house to serve him some years; when about three years ago, Captain W——, my massa that spoke to you, bought me to be his servant on board his ship. And he be good massa; and I live with him ever since."
"And what thoughts had you about your soul all that time before you went to America?" I asked him.
"I no care for my soul at all before then. No man teach me a word about my soul."
"Well, now tell me further about what happened to you in America. How came you there?"
"My massa take me there in a ship, and he stop there one month; and then I hear the good minister."
"And what did that minister say?"
"He said I was a great sinner."
"Did he speak to you in particular?"
"Yes, I think so; for there was a great many to hear him, but he tell them all about me."
"What did he say?"
"He say all about the things that were in my heart."
"Who taught you to read?"
"God teach me to read."
"What do you mean by saying so?"
"God gave me desire to read, and that make reading easy. Massa give me Bible, and one sailor show me the letter; and so I learn to read by myself with God's good help."
"And what do you read in the Bible?"
"Oh, I read all about Jesus Christ, and How He loved sinners; and wicked men killed him, and He died and came again from the grave, and all this for poor negro. And it sometime make me cry to think that Christ love me so."
Not many days after the first interview with my African disciple, I went from home on horseback, with the design of visiting and conversing with him again at his master's house, which was situated in a part of the parish near four miles distant from my own. The road which I took lay over a lofty down or hill, which commands a prospect of scenery seldom equalled for beauty and magnificence. It gave birth to silent, but instructive contemplation.
As I pursued the meditations which this magnificent and varied scenery excited in my mind, I approached the edge of a tremendous perpendicular cliff with which the hill terminates; I dismounted from my horse and tied him.
I cast my eye downwards a little to the left, towards a small cove, the shore of which consists of fine hard sand. It is surrounded by fragments of rock, chalk cliffs, and steep banks of broken earth. Shut out from human intercourse and dwellings, it seems formed for retirement and contemplation. On one of these rocks I unexpectedly observed a man sitting with a book, which he was reading. The place was near two hundred yards perpendicularly below me: but I soon discovered by his dress, and by the color of his features, contrasted with the white rocks beside him, that it was no other than my African disciple, with, as I doubted not, a Bible in his hand. I rejoiced at this unlooked-for opportunity of meeting him in so solitary and interesting a situation. I descended a steep bank, winding by a kind of rude staircase, formed by fishermen and shepherds' boys, in the side of the cliff down to the shore.
He was intent on his book, and did not perceive me till I approached very near to him.
"William, is that you?"
"Ah, massa, I very glad to see you. How came massa into this place? I thought nobody here but only God and me."
"I was coming to your master's house to see you, and rode round by this way for the sake of the prospect. I often come here in fine weather to look at the sea and the shipping. Is that your Bible?"
"Yes, sir, this is my dear, good 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 good to me; but I never good to God."
"How so?"
"I never thank Him enough; I never pray to Him enough; I never remember enough who give me all these good things. Massa, I afraid my heart very bad. I wish I was like you."
"Like me, William? Why, you are like me, a poor helpless sinner."
"Tell me, William, is not that very sin which you speak of, a burden to you? You do not love it: you would be glad to obtain strength against it, and to be freed from it, would you not?"
"Oh, yes; I give all this world, if I had it, to be without sin."
"Come then, and welcome, to Jesus Christ, my brother; His blood cleanseth from all sin. He gave himself as a ransom for sinners. He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed. The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all. Come, freely come to Jesus, the Saviour of sinners."
"Yes, massa," said the poor fellow, weeping, "I will come, but I come very slow; very slow, massa; I want to run; I want to fly. Jesus is very good to poor me to send you to tell me all this."
I was much pleased with the affectionate manner in which he spoke of his parents, from whom he had been stolen in his childhood; and his wishes that 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 a missionary to the country where they live, to declare the good news of salvation to your countrymen, and to your own dear parents in particular, if they are yet alive."
"Oh, my dear father and mother; my dear, gracious Saviour," exclaimed he, leaping from the ground, as he spoke, "if Thou would but save their souls, and tell them what Thou hast done for sinners; but—"
He stopped and seemed much affected.
"My friend," said I, "I will now pray with you for your own soul, and those of your parents also."
"Do, massa, that is very good and kind; do pray for poor negro souls here and 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 the waves, formed the walls of our chamber. It was not indeed a "place where prayer was wont to be made," but for this once it became a hallowed spot; it will by me ever be remembered as such. The presence of God was there. I prayed. The African 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 sincerity and Christian love.
I had, for a considerable time, been accustomed to meet some serious persons once a week, in a cottage at no great distance from the house where he lived, for the purpose of religious conversation, instruction, and prayer. Having found these occasions remarkably useful and interesting to myself and others, I thought it would be very desirable to take the African there, in order that there might be many witnesses to the simplicity and sincerity of real Christianity, as exhibited in the character of this promising young convert. I hoped it might prove an eminent means of grace to excite and quicken the spirit of prayer and praise among some over whose spiritual progress I was anxiously watching.
It was known that the African was to visit the little society this evening, and satisfaction beamed in every countenance as I took him by the hand and introduced him among them, saying, "I have brought a brother from Africa to see you, my friends. Bid him welcome in the name of the Lord."
"Sir," said a humble and pious laborer, whose heart and tongue always overflowed with Christian kindness, "we are at all times glad to see our dear minister, but especially so to-day, in such company as you have brought with you. We have heard how gracious the Lord has been to him. Give me your hand, good friend," turning to the African; "God be with you here and everywhere; and blessed be His holy name for calling wicked sinners, as I hope He has done you and me, to love and serve Him for His mercy's sake."
Each one greeted him as he came into the house, and some addressed him in very kind and impressive language.
"Massa," said he, "I not know what to say to all these good friends; I think this looks like little heaven upon earth."
He then, with tears in his eyes, which, almost before he spoke, brought responsive drops into those of all present, said:
"Good friends and brethren in Christ Jesus, God bless you all, and bring you to heaven at last."
After some time passed in more general conversation on the subject of the African's history, I said, "Let us now praise God for the rich and unspeakable gift of His grace, and sing the hymn of 'redeeming love,'
"'Now begin the heavenly theme,
Sing aloud in Jesus' name,'" etc.
which was accordingly done. Whatever might be the merit of the natural voices, it was plain there was melody in all their hearts.
The African was not much used to our way of singing, yet joined with great earnestness and affection, which showed how truly he felt what was uttered. When the fifth verse was ended—
"Nothing brought Him from above,
Nothing but redeeming love"—
he repeated the words, almost unconscious where he was.
"No, nothing, nothing but redeeming love bring Him down to poor William; nothing but redeeming love."
The following verses were added, and sung by way of conclusion:
See, a stranger comes to view;
Though he's black, he's comely too:
Come to join the choirs above,
Singing of redeeming love.
Welcome, brother, welcome here,
Banish doubt, and banish fear;
You, who Christ's salvation prove,
Praise and bless redeeming love.
—Abridged from Legh Richmond.