“Hold on! I am the ‘Wizard of the North.’ I’ll stand the orders already given, but not another one.”
Our friends, including the “Wizard” himself, began to think that I had rather the best of the joke.
During our three years’ stay abroad, I made a second hasty visit to America, leaving the General in England in the hands of my agents. I took passage from Liverpool on board a Cunard steamer, commanded by Captain Judkins. One of my fellow passengers was the celebrated divine, Robert Baird. I had known him as the author of an octavo volume, “Religion in America”; and while that work had impressed me as exhibiting great ability and an outspoken honesty of purpose, it had also given me the notion that its author must be very rigid and intolerant as a sectarian. Still I was happy to make his acquaintance on board the steamship, and soon regarded with favor the venerable Presbyterian divine.
Dr. Baird had been for some time a missionary in Sweden. He was now paying a visit to his native land. I found him a shrewd, well-informed Christian gentleman, and I took much pleasure in hearing him converse. One night it was storming furiously. The waves, rolling high, afforded a sight of awful grandeur, to witness which I was tempted to put on a pea-jacket, go upon the deck, and lash myself to the side of the ship. After I had been there nearly an hour, wrapt in meditation and wonder, not unmixed with awe, Dr. Baird came up in the darkness, feeling his way cautiously along the deck. As he came where I was, I hailed him; and he asked what I was doing so long up there.
“Listening to the preaching, Doctor,” I replied; “and I think it beats even yours, although I have never had the pleasure of hearing you.”
“Ah!” he replied, “none of us can preach like this. How humble and insignificant we all feel in the presence of such a display of the Almighty power; and how grateful we should be to remember that infinite love guides this power.”
The Sunday following, divine service was held as usual in the large after cabin. Of course it was the Episcopal form of worship. The captain conducted the services, assisted by the clerk and the ship’s surgeon. A dozen or two of the sailors, shaved, washed, and neatly dressed, were marched into the cabin by the mate; most of the passengers were also present.
Those who have witnessed this service, as conducted by Captain Judkins, need not be reminded that he does it much as he performs his duties on deck. He speaks as one having authority; and a listener could hardly help feeling that there would be some danger of a “row” if the petitions (made as a sort of command) were not speedily answered.
After dinner I asked Dr. Baird if he would be willing to preach to the passengers in the forward cabin. He said he would cheerfully do so if it was desired. I mentioned it to the passengers, and there was a generally-expressed wish among them that he should preach. I went into the forward cabin, and requested the steward to arrange the chairs and tables properly for religious service. He replied that I must first get the captain’s consent. Of course, I thought this was a mere matter of form; so I went to the captain’s office, and said:
“Captain, the passengers desire to have Dr. Baird conduct a religious service in the forward cabin. I suppose there is no objection.”