"I hope, my dear mother, I can repeat that sentiment; but still I feel that I have lost one of the best of fathers that ever called a child his own; and if I should be unable to control my feelings, I hope you will bear with me. Ours is no common loss."
To relieve myself in some measure from the depression which this bereavement had occasioned, I bent my footsteps towards Farmer Pickford's homestead, and there I saw his son George, and had from him a rough outline of his adventures, which I will briefly narrate.
He left the port of London, on board a merchant vessel, in company with Jack Summers, who had seduced him into the ways of iniquity; but poor Jack fell overboard, and was drowned, before he set sail. His first voyage was to Havana; where, one day, he went on shore with the ship's carpenter. They visited the slave-market, where they saw men, women, and children sold like beasts of burden. This sickened them, both of the West Indies and slavery; but he said, "We served them out," for, on stepping into their boat they found, coiled up in the jib-sail, a negro lad, about the age of fifteen, who said, "Me let go wid you." They contrived to get him on board without his being seen; George took off the top of an empty water butt, put the negro in, gave him a bottle of water and some bread and cheese, and told him to lie still till the ship was under weigh. Early the next morning the negro's master came to inquire if there was a black boy on board; and when the captain, who didn't know anything about it, assured him that there was not, he turned back; and soon after the vessel set sail. "We brought him away with us," said George, "and he has been with me ever since, and he is one of the best fellows of the crew for work." This voyage, upon the whole, was a very pleasant one, and he took a strong liking to a seafaring life. His second voyage was to Madeira, and this, also, was a pleasant one, notwithstanding a short though violent storm, which, to quote his own expression, "the little snug vessel outrode in gallant style." His third voyage was to Calcutta; but, on rounding the Cape, they encountered a tremendous hurricane, which lasted several days and nights without intermission; fears were entertained for the safety of the vessel, as she got fearfully strained; and now it was that the captain discovered the superior capabilities of George, for, having been apprenticed to a carpenter, he was able to take the berth of the ship's carpenter, who died some weeks before. On his return to port, the mate was promoted to the captain's berth, who took the command of another ship; and George Pickford took the berth of the mate. His character for sobriety and activity gave much satisfaction to Messrs. B., his employers; and he was a great favourite with the crew. Nothing occurred of any great importance for the next three years, till his last visit to Calcutta, when the ship was detained for upwards of two months; the captain giving him permission to go ashore as often as he pleased. Here he met a young man whom he knew—a native of Broadhurst, but now a resident in Calcutta—a decidedly pious man, who invited him to spend the following Sabbath with him. He did so; and they went together to the chapel in which Mr. James Hill, an English missionary, preached. As he sat directly opposite the pulpit, the eye of the preacher fell directly upon him—at least he thought so; and the text, "Be sure your sin will find you out," (Num. xxxii. 23), brought his sin of dishonesty to his master, undutifulness to his parents, and his uniform forgetfulness of God, and contempt for his authority, with such vividness to his recollection that he hastened on board as rapidly as possible. There, in the quietude of his own berth, he pondered over this new discovery, which was accompanied by a train of novel and poignant emotions. His soul was overwhelmed with grief; but yet it was a grief which gave him more relief than pain. It was pungent, but it did not drive him to despair. Mr. Hill, in the conclusion of his discourse, quoted the words of Jesus Christ—"Whosoever believeth in him should not perish." "I caught hold of that promise," he said, "and I kept hold of it; and I found it a rope strong enough to save me. I believed I should not perish; I tried to pray, but could not get further than the prayer of the publican, 'God, be merciful to me a sinner.'" He stated that he longed for the return of Sabbath during the whole of the week; and when it came, though his duties on board required his attention in the morning, yet in the evening he was at liberty, and he again heard the same minister preach the glorious gospel of the blessed God. He felt its great moral power on his heart, reducing the wild tumult of feeling to a peaceful calm, and giving him a good hope, through grace, of pardon and salvation. The next morning the ship weighed anchor, and set sail; and he closed his statement to me as follows:—"I left my home a wild lad, and a criminal; I lived in bold rebellion against God up to the age of twenty-three; I acted a most unkind and undutiful part towards my dear parents, by keeping them in a state of ignorance of my whereabouts. When I went into Mr. Hill's chapel I had no more desire for conversion than I have now to be unconverted; but the Lord had compassion on me, and has saved me: glory be to his holy name. I am a brand plucked from the burning, if ever there was one plucked; now I wish to live to show my gratitude to the Lord Jesus Christ, for saving me; and to do good to my fellow-sailors. I am glad to say that two of our crew are God-fearing men; and we often meet together for reading the Bible and prayer. I had many precious moments, in prayer to the Lord, on our voyage back; and sometimes felt his presence near me, especially one night in a fearful storm. I knew he had the winds and the waves under his command. I trusted in him, and felt secure.
On my return to Fairmount, after this interview with George, I met the Farmer, who gave me his usual hearty shake of the hand.
"Have you been to my homestead?"
"Yes, and have seen your son George, and had a long chat with him."
"He is grown a finish sort of a chap. He's more of the gemman than his father, and no mistake. He has seen a main bit of the world, like. How well he talks; and what a power of matter he has to say. He keeps us up rather latish with his stories. Some are funny and make us laugh; and some are shocking. Man is a bad fellow everywhere till the grace of God touches his heart. Howsomever, George has scraped up a goodish bit of money. Ay, if a man has any luck at sea, he often gets on faster than we do here on land."
"Your son, I rather think, has found something more valuable than gold, or silver, or precious stones."
"The Lord be praised. Yes, he has found the precious pearl of great price. That's a proof to my mind that Jesus Christ is everywhere, or my George would not have found him in Calcutta, which, he says, is thousands of miles off. I suppose he has told you about the sarmunt that made him feel all at once that he was in a new world? He must have been as much surprised, when going out of the chapel as Zaccheus was when he dropped down out of the sycamore tree. What a wonder-working power the grace of God is, and no mistake!"