How soon are they all sent to their dread accounts except this youth! Great is his astonishment when I speak to him of what was done, and of the poor natives so barbarously carried away.
“The vengeance of a pure and just God quickly finds out the doers of such deeds,” I remark. “And, Joseph, my friend, where would you now have been had you not been rescued by the hand of mercy from the jaws of death?”
“In torment—in torment!” he shrieks out; “in everlasting torments! Rightly condemned—rightly condemned!”
“But, think you not, that the same loving hand which saved your life from destruction will preserve your far more precious soul from death eternal if you will but believe in His power and will to save you? Do not have any doubts on the subject. The most guilty are entreated to repent and to come to Jesus—the loving Saviour—the Friend of sinners.”
“These are strange words you speak, mate,” said the young man sitting up and looking earnestly at me.
“Not strange, friend,” say I. “Thousands and thousands of times have they been spoken before to the saving of many a perishing soul. Let them not be spoken to you in vain.”
Thus do I continue for some time, till I see tears starting into the eyes of the young man. The knowledge of a Saviour’s love softens his heart, while his sins still make him afraid.
“I remember to have heard words like those you have been speaking, mate, long, long ago,” he observes. “I forgot them till now. They sound sweetly to my ears.”
“Never forget them again, friend,” I answered, having now to go on deck to keep my watch.
Joseph Bent lives, and is gaining strength, but as he does so he seems to be hardening his heart, and avoids religious subjects; yet he speaks of the doings of his late shipmates at Raratonga. What must have been their feelings when their ship was going down, and the thoughts of their late evil deeds came rushing on their minds. If people would but reflect each morning as they rise, and say to themselves, “For what I do this day I must most assuredly account before the judgment-seat of the Almighty,” how many a sin might be avoided; and yet, surely, the love of Jesus, the dread of grieving our blessed Master, will do more than that. With me love is the constraining power—with some men the fear of judgment may have more effect; fear may prevent sin, but love surely advances more the honour and glory of Christ’s kingdom. It is love to his blessed Master which will make a man give up home and country, and go forth to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to the perishing heathen; fear will keep him strictly observant of his religious duties at home: fear rules where the law exists; love reigns through the liberty of the gospel. Yes, I am sure, that love, and love alone, will make a man a persevering missionary of the truth.