When he returned on board I told him that the captain was very much obliged to him for what he had done. “And I saw too,” I observed, “that you were praying for the poor fellows.”
“No, massa; I no pray for dem,” he answered. “If when dey died dey loved Jesus Christ, den dey no want my prayers; if dey no love Him, den He no love dem. No, massa, me pray for dose that stand round, and for dose still alive. I pray dat God’s Holy Spirit would come into dere hearts, and told dem to love Jesus, and dat He died for sinners. I prayed dat dey would hear His Word, and love Him and serve Him. Den I tell dem that Jesus Christ came down on earth, and become man, and be obedient to God, and do all dat good child should do who lub him parents, and dat He pure and holy like lamb widout spot or blemish, and dat He died on de cross, and be punished instead of wicked man, and dat God den say dat one who not deserve punishment being punished He will forgive all dose His dear Son present to Him, who lub Him and serve Him. Den I tell dem dat Jesus Christ died for dem, and dat if dey trust to Him He put away all dere sins, and God not look at dere sins any more. Den I turn de matter about, and I say dat you and all men are poor and naked and covered with dirt and sores, and not fit to go into de presence of pure and holy God; but if you love Christ and trust dat He died and was punished instead of you, den He put on you a white robe, cover you wid His righteousness, and den when you go to God He longer see that you are poor and naked, but He only see the white robe, and He say, ‘Now you may come into dis pure and bright heaven, and live wid Me.’ Then once more I say again, look here, God put you into this world, and you owe God everything. You ought to obey Him and serve Him, and give Him all your strength and health, and to try and please Him in all things every moment of your life. Next I remind dem dat none of us do it, so we owe God a debt, and the longer we live the greater is the debt. It is not den all the things that we do dat God reckon, but the many things that we ought to do and which we leave undone. We receive all the good things from God, and we give Him nothing in return. Then we have no means to pay this debt, so Jesus Christ, because He love us, say He pay it, and God say He accept His payment and set us free. Den I say to the people, Do you believe dis? If you do, and try to love God, and serve God, and do what Jesus Christ did when He was on earth, den you have living faith, and you are free, and God no say longer that you owe Him debt, but He call you His dear children, and when you leave this world He receive you in heaven.”
“Why, Paul,” I exclaimed, after listening with astonishment to what he had said, “I little expected to hear such things come out of a—” (I was going to say negro’s mouth, but changed it to) “African sailor’s mouth. You ought to be a missionary.”
“Every Christian man ought to be a missionary,” he answered. “If he love the Lord Jesus, and know that the Lord Jesus love him, then he ought to tell that love to others, and if he knows the value of his own soul then he values the souls of others, and try to win those souls for Christ. The truth is, massa, I do want to be missionary, and I seek to go to England to learn more. I there learn to preach the gospel, and when I come back I carry the glad tidings of salvation to my ignorant countrymen.”
I was very much struck with Paul’s earnestness and zeal, though at that time I could scarcely comprehend all he said—I myself knew nothing experimentally of the great love of Jesus of which he spoke. The poor black Christian was far more enlightened than I was. Still I felt a satisfaction at having him on board. He at once showed that he was not a mere theoretical Christian, for as soon as his duty on board the ship was over, he devoted himself to attending on the sick men. All the hours he could snatch from sleep he spent by the side of their bunks, urging them to trust to Jesus, and to repent of their sins while yet there was time.
The poor second mate grew worse and worse. Paul visited him, and he heard from the lips of the black seaman, perhaps for the first time, the full and free message of salvation; and, I believe, from what Paul told me, and from the remarks the mate made to me before he died, that he had fully accepted God’s gracious offer of reconciliation.
I am going ahead though too fast in my narrative. Before the morning came that we were to have left our anchorage Captain Willis himself was laid prostrate with the fever, and having now no one on board to navigate the vessel, we could not venture to sea. I would have done my best to find our way to Sierra Leone, but the black boatswain refused to leave the harbour without an officer capable of taking charge of the brigantine. We were compelled, therefore, to wait till Captain Willis should recover sufficiently, or till the arrival of another English vessel which could spare one of her mates to take charge of the “Chieftain.”
Before many days were over Captain Willis, and Sambo, the black cook, and I, were the only persons of those who had come into the river, still alive on board. Had the Krumen been badly disposed, they might, without difficulty, have taken possession of the vessel, and made off with her rich cargo; but they appeared, as far I could judge, to intend to act faithfully, and perform their various duties as well as if the captain’s eye had been constantly upon them. About Paul I had no doubt. Little as I knew of vital religion myself, I was sure that he was a true man, and that he acted according to his professions. Nothing could exceed his attention to the captain; he or I were constantly at his bedside; and Paul showed considerable skill in treating the disease. I believe that it was mainly owing to him, through God’s mercy, that the captain did not succumb to it, as the rest of the crew had done.
“Paul,” said the captain one morning, when he felt himself getting a little better, “I owe you my life, I will try not to forget you.”
“Oh, no, no captain, poor fellow like me not able to do you good; give God de praise,” he answered solemnly, looking upwards. “Oh, if you did but know how God loves you, how He takes care of you, and gives you all the good things of life, and saves you from danger, and wishes you to come and live with Him, and be happy for ever and ever, you would try to love Him and serve Him, and obey Him in all things.”