I could hold no longer; I took him in my arms, and embraced him with an excess of passion. “How far,” said I to him, “have I been from understanding the most essential part of a Christian, viz. to love the interest of the Christian church, and the good of other men’s souls! I scarce have known what belongs to being a Christian.”—“O, Sir, do not say so,” replied he; “this thing is not your fault.”—“No,” said I; “but why did I never lay it to heart as well as you?”—“It is not too late yet,” said he; “be not too forward to condemn yourself.”—“But what can be done now?” said I; “you see I am going away.”—“Will you give me leave,” said he, “to talk with these poor men about it?”—“Yes, with all my heart,” said I, “and I will oblige them to give heed to what you say too.”—“As to that,” said he, “we must leave them to the mercy of Christ; but it is our business to assist them, encourage them, and instruct them; and if you will give me leave, and God his blessing, I do not doubt but the poor ignorant souls shall be brought home into the great circle of Christianity, if not into the particular faith that we all embrace; and that even while you stay here.” Upon this I said, “I shall not only give you leave, but give you a thousand thanks for it.” What followed on this account I shall mention also again in its place.
I now pressed him for the third article in which we were to blame. “Why really,” says he, “it is of the same nature, and I will proceed (asking your leave) with the same plainness as before; it is about your poor savages yonder, who are, as I may say, your conquered subjects. It is a maxim, Sir, that is, or ought to be received among all Christians, of what church, or pretended church soever, viz. that Christian knowledge ought to be propagated by all possible means, and on all possible occasions. It is on this principle that our church sends missionaries into Persia, India, and China; and that our clergy, even of the superior sort, willingly engage in the most hazardous voyages, and the most dangerous residence among murderers and barbarians, to teach them the knowledge of the true God, and to bring them over to embrace the Christian faith. Now, Sir, you have an opportunity here to have six or seven-and-thirty poor savages brought over from idolatry to the knowledge of God, their Maker and Redeemer, that I wonder how you can pass by such an occasion of doing good, which is really worth the expense of a man’s whole life.”
I was now struck dumb indeed, and had not one word to say; I had here a spirit of true Christian zeal for God and religion before me, let his particular principles be of what kind soever. As for me, I had not so much as entertained a thought of this in my heart before, and I believe should not have thought of it; for I looked upon these savages as slaves, and people whom, had we any work for them to do, we would have used as such, or would have been glad to have transported them to any other part of the world; for our business was to get rid of them, and we would all have been satisfied if they had been sent to any country, so they had never seen their own. But to the case: I say I was confounded at his discourse, and knew not what answer to make him. He looked earnestly at me, seeing me in some disorder; “Sir,” said he, “I shall be very sorry, if what I have said gives you any offence.”—“No, no,” said I, “I am offended with nobody but myself; but I am perfectly confounded, not only to think that I should never take any notice of this before, but with reflecting what notice I am able to take of it now. You know, Sir,” said I, “what circumstances I am in; I am bound to the East Indies, in a ship freighted by merchants, and to whom it would be an insufferable piece of injustice to detain their ship here, the men lying all this while at victuals and wages upon the owners’ account. It is true, I agreed to be allowed twelve days here, and if I stay more I must pay 32 sterling per diem demurrage; nor can I stay upon demurrage above eight days more, and I have been here thirteen days already; so that I am perfectly unable to engage in this work; unless I would suffer myself to be left behind here again; in which case, if this single ship should miscarry in any part of her voyage, I should be just in the same condition that I was left in here at first, and from which I have been so wonderfully delivered.”
He owned the case was very hard upon me as to my voyage, but laid it home upon my conscience, whether the blessing of saving seven-and-thirty souls was not worth my venturing all I had in the world for. I was not so sensible of that as he was, and I returned upon him thus: “Why, Sir, it is a valuable thing indeed to be an instrument in God’s hand to convert seven-and-thirty heathens to the knowledge of Christ: but as you are an ecclesiastic, and are given over to that work, so that it seems naturally to fall into the way of your profession, how is it then that you do not rather offer yourself to undertake it, than press me to it!”
Upon this he faced about, just before me, as he walked along, and pulling me to a full stop, made me a very low bow: “I most heartily thank God, and you, Sir,” says he, “for giving me so evident a call to so blessed a work; and if you think yourself discharged from it, and desire me to undertake it, I will most readily do it, and think it a happy reward for all of the hazards and difficulties of such a broken disappointed voyage as I have met with, that I have dropped at last into so glorious a work.”
I discovered a kind of rapture in his face while he spoke this to me; his eyes sparkled like fire, his face bowed, and his colour came and went as if he had been falling into fits; in a word, he was tired with the agony of being embarked in such a work. I paused a considerable while before I could tell what to say to him, for I was really surprised to find a man of such sincerity and zeal, and carried out in his zeal beyond the ordinary rate of men, not of his profession only, but even of any profession whatsoever. But after I had considered it awhile, I asked him seriously if he was in earnest, and that he would venture on the single consideration of an attempt on those poor people, to be locked up in an unplanted island for perhaps his life, and at last might not know whether he should be able to do them any good or not?
He turned short upon me, and asked me what I called a venture? “Pray, Sir,” said he, “what do you think I consented to go in your ship to the East Indies for?”—“Nay,” said I, “that I know not, unless it was to preach to the Indians.”—“Doubtless it was,” said he; “and do you think if I can convert these seven-and-thirty men to the faith of Christ, it is not worth my time, though I should never be fetched off the island again? Nay, is it not infinitely of more worth to save so many souls than my life is, or the life of twenty more of the same profession? Yes, Sir,” says he, “I would give Christ and the Blessed Virgin thanks all my days, if I could be made the least happy instrument of saving the souls of these poor men though I was never to set my foot off this island, or see my native country any more. But since you will honour me,” says he, “with putting me into this work, (for which I will pray for you all the days of my life) I have one humble petition to you,” said he “besides.”—“What is that?” said I. “Why,” says he, “it is, that you will leave your man Friday with me, to be my interpreter to them, and to assist me for without some help I cannot speak to them, or they to me.”
I was sensibly troubled at his requesting Friday, because I could not think of parting with him, and that for many reasons. He had been the companion of my travels; he was not only faithful to me, but sincerely affectionate to the last degree; and I had resolved to do something considerable for him if he out-lived me, as it was probable he would. Then I knew that as I had bred Friday up to be a Protestant, it would quite confound him to bring him to embrace another profession; and he would never, while his eyes were open, believe that his old master was a heretic, and would be damned; and this might in the end ruin the poor fellow’s principles, and so turn him back again to his first idolatry.
However, a sudden thought relieved me in this strait, and it was this: I told him I could not say that I was willing to part with Friday on any account whatever; though a work that to him was of more value than his life, ought to me to be of much more value than the keeping or parting with a servant. But on the other hand, I was persuaded, that Friday would by no means consent to part with me; and then to force him to it without his consent would be manifest injustice, because I had promised I would never put him away, and he had promised and engaged to me that he would never leave me unless I put him away.
He seemed very much concerned at it; for he had no rational access to these poor people, seeing he did not understand one word of their language, nor they one word of his. To remove this difficulty, I told him Friday’s father had learnt Spanish, which I found he also understood, and he should serve him for an interpreter; so he was much better satisfied, and nothing could persuade him but he would stay to endeavour to convert them; but Providence gave another and very happy turn to all this.