CHAPTER II.
THE VOYAGE—DISCUSSION—MINISTER'S DISCOMFITURE—ARRIVE IN LIVERPOOL—KINDNESS OF CAPTAIN BAKER—LEARN OF HIS DEATH AND MY DUTY—MY SHABBY APPEARANCE—FIRST SERMON—MONEY PUT INTO MY HAND—VISIT HOME—UNKINDNESS OF RELATIVES—MORE HELP FROM STRANGERS.
When fairly out at sea, and as evening set in, the captain would order lights and request the minister to bring out his large Bible, and "you, little one, bring out your little Bible."
Neither of us was loth, and the theological set-to would commence.
Captain Baker would exclaim with a hearty oath, that the little one had the best of it, and then the big one would get wrathy, and close his book with a bang and declare the contest off. But Mrs. Baker would interpose and soften his ire, and again we would return "to the law and the testimony."
But, alas! at one of these theological "bouts," the theme being water baptism, sprinkling and circumcision, the new birth, etc., I was so marvelously assisted in delineating the new birth—water baptism, that he closed his big book with a clang, and declared that he would never argue with me any more.
The captain, jumping up, swore with an oath that the "little one" had the best of it, and Mrs. Baker smiled her approval.
I pass over the general features of the voyage.
Arriving in the river Mersey early in the morning, and the tide not serving, the prospect was to remain on board till the tide changed.
The captain hailed a boat to go on shore, and bid me go with him. At first I declined, knowing I had no means, but by persuasion I consented.
He asked me where I was going to, and if I knew any one.
I told him "Stanley Buildings," and I knew no one only as my credentials named certain persons, such as Messrs. Ward, Hedlock and Wilson.
He accompanied me to Stanley Buildings, but finding no one there, it being too early for office hours, he invited me to breakfast.
After breakfast, he took me to the office of the Millennial Star, requesting me before leaving, to come down to the dock at a certain hour, which he named, as the ship would then be in her berth.
At the appointed time I was there.
My little trunk was examined and passed. I was in the act of throwing it over my shoulder when the captain seized it, hailed a cab, threw the trunk to the driver, and literally pushed me inside the cab.
I then said: "Captain, this is pushing things to an extreme. I have no money, I gave you all I had. I owe you $40.00 balance of my passage money. How can I pay this fare and you?"
"With this half sovereign pay your fare. As to the balance of the passage money, pay that by preaching the gospel as you know it, and as your little book (a small pocket Bible) teaches it. Do all the good you can, and when you pray, as I know you do, for I have heard you on board the ship, pray for Sam Baker. God bless you; and when you get through and want to go back home, and I am in port, come to me and I will take you back free."
Then giving the door of the cab a slam, he said: "Take this boy to Stanley Buildings!"
I never saw Captain Baker again. I learned that in a subsequent voyage he was lost at sea, in a terrific storm.
On the receipt of the news, as sensibly as you can hear a penny drop into an empty contribution box, so sensibly did my monitor of the levee tell me of my duty—to be baptized for Captain Baker.
Baptism for the dead was then a new principle in this age, and one but recently revealed through the Prophet Joseph; I therefore hailed with joy unspeakable this, another direct manifestation of the presence of God with me, the divine inspiration of Joseph Smith, and the truth of this work.
My arrival at Liverpool was in the midst of the dazzling sumptuousness of the Joint Stock Company. Feastings, dress and the appointments of well-paid attaches were the order of the day.
My appearance as to dress was not becoming.
I saw in fancy my presiding officers there, myself, my intended visit home, penniless. Yet had not God marvelously wrought for me? Why should I despair?
Placards announced my coming—the first from the temple at Nauvoo.
Sunday found me in the pulpit, with a vast host assembled.
How shall I, in adequate words, portray even now the grandeur of language, ideas, the sublimity of the opening vision of mind, as I dilated on "Ye must be born again?" How enwrapped, how enlightened I was by the Spirit! How scripture, unthought of, unknown or unappreciated before, marched in single file before my mind! How, after nearly two hours, I sank to my seat exhausted, and thought of my clothes and my mother's chagrin if I saw her in that plight.
After the benediction, I descended to mingle with the people.
Many strangers to the hall and the Saints came trooping to me, eager to press my hand, leaving therein weighty metallic evidences of their appreciation of a God-helped "Mormon" missionary.
I now had more money than when on the levee at New Orleans.
How vividly I recall, even now, my gratitude, as on bended knees at my lodgings I thanked God for His wonderful interpositions in my behalf, and what joy I felt as I counted the metallic evidences of trust and answer to prayer.
As soon as I could I visited home, from which I had been exiled for my faith. They scanned me well, and one member of the family, referring to our mode of traveling—without purse or scrip, wanted to know if I had come home to sponge on them.
I replied "No!" and, putting my hand into my pocket, drew forth a sovereign. Pushing that towards them, I remarked, "That will pay my board bill while I stay. Our Elders do not sponge!"
I was proud that I had good clothes and money.
At the Sunday dinner the same acrimonious feelings were again exhibited.
I arose from the table, sorrowed that years of absence had not softened their hearts towards me and the cause dearest to my heart, remarking that "This evening I will preach in the Theobald Road room, at 6-30."
My brothers came to hear me, and here again God opened the sacred volume, showed me new beauties, gave me impassioned language to expound the scriptures, afforded me power to enchain the audience, and again to see strangers rush to give me money.
My brothers laughed the laugh of unbelief, while strangers and Saints thanked God for the words heard, and gave me more money.
I hope this brief and hurried but truthful narrative may inspire some young Saint, missionary or otherwise, to be honest and trust in God when out without purse or scrip.