“He died as he lived, trusting to the all-sufficient merits of Jesus Christ his Saviour,” said Peter; “it is a blessed thing, Mrs Sandford, that God’s promises are sure, and that those who thus die are taken to be with Him.”
“Indeed it is, Captain Gray; I know that I shall meet my dear husband in His glorious presence, and my daughter enjoys the same certain hope. That confidence has taken away the sting of grief which we should otherwise have felt. It was he who led us to the truth, and constantly charged us to be prepared for what has occurred: he, indeed, seemed to be aware that he should be taken during one of his voyages, yet none the less did he trust in God that all would be well.”
Mrs Sandford, after some further conversation, asked whether he intended going home or taking up his residence in London while he remained on shore, “because,” she added, “as our means are limited, I purpose taking lodgers, if such offer as I should be willing to receive.”
“I have no home,” said Peter, and he gave her an outline of his history; “if, therefore, you can accommodate me I shall be very glad to remain here.”
Soon after this, Mrs Sandford’s daughter Susan entered the room. She was a pleasing, quiet, gentle girl, and appeared fully to share her mother’s faith; and when Peter had talked with her for some time, he felt sure from the remarks she made that she was a true and earnest Christian. Peter had thought and read a good deal. Captain Sandford had left a well-selected library on board. His knowledge had become greatly enlarged, without in any way having his simple faith weakened. The little shepherd-boy was now the thoughtful, intelligent, and gentlemanly man, not possessed, perhaps, of the polish which mixing in the great world gives, but that far more enduring refinement which constant communion with Christ affords. Worldly people, though acknowledging the benefit of Christianity, know not its true source, and are surprised to find Christ’s humble disciples so free from coarseness, and so gentle and courteous in their manners.
Susan had been taught in the same school.
Several weeks passed away. Peter came to the conclusion that he should wish to marry no other woman than Susan Sandford. Perhaps Susan had discovered this, for he was not a person who could well hide his feelings; at all events he ventured to tell her so, and she promised to become his wife. He would gladly have married before going to sea, but Mrs Sandford, who was a prudent woman, insisted on his waiting till he had returned from his next voyage.
That voyage was a long one, for the owners again sent the Edgar into the Pacific. Peter was able to pay a visit to his father, whom he found labouring with devoted zeal as a catechist among the natives, and submitting humbly to the directions he received from Mr Wilson, the missionary. The old man was delighted to hear of his son’s intended marriage, and begged him if he could to bring out his wife to see him.
“The utmost desire of my heart will then be fulfilled,” he exclaimed; “and, oh! how loving has God been to me by bringing me in His great mercy out of darkness into His glorious light! Every day I live I wonder more and more; and, Peter, it is my belief I shall go on wondering through all eternity, because I am sure we shall never understand the love and mercy of Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, in all its fulness.”
Peter willingly promised to do as the old man wished. Had he still been the rough ignorant sailor Jack Gray once was, he might have felt an unwillingness to introduce his wife to him, even though he was his father; but now how different was the case when he was to bring her to the venerable Christian, patriarchal in appearance, and mild in manners, so gentle and loving to all around! It was a pleasure to see the natives come up and speak to him, they all evidently holding him in great respect.