Now that I am out of all danger of incurring the disapprobation of the
mates, I am free to speak thus about a sailor, and I would be glad to
say more. One Sabbath I spoke to the crew in terms of commendation.
We were lying at anchor in Hong Kong harbor. In the night there were
signs of a gale. One anchor only was down; the ship drifted, and we
were afoul of an English bark. As the wind was still rising and we
had lately had a typhoon, we were apprehensive of another. All hands
in each vessel were at work, some aloft, clearing the rigging and
fending off, and those below anxiously watching the growing snarl,
contending with unequal strength against the chafing, and now and then
the grinding action, of the vessel. From my window I could see and hear
all that was going on, as we lay close to. The crews being strangers
one to the other, many of them of different nationality, there was due
deference paid to each other, courteous, kind expressions, regrets on
the one side at running upon a neighbor, on the other the deprecation
or the ready acceptance of apologies, the ‘don’t mention it,’ or, ‘we
should have been foul of you, if the wind had been the other way.’
After working hard from two o’clock till four, in the dark, we were
clear of each other, and the spare anchor went down to hold us fast. No
words of impatience met my ear during the whole work of disentangling
the snarl. It came in my way to speak of this the next Sabbath. A
few days after we were discussing the sailors, when one of the mates
said to me, “I was afraid last Sabbath that you were going too far in
praising them.” “Yes,” said the other, “I was on tenter hooks, till
you got through.” I am ready to defer to the practical judgment of
the mates, yet we may be too sparing of kind words, courteous tones,
and praise, in our treatment of those whom we would impress with the
feeling that they are under authority. It will not hurt any of us to
have in mind the injunction of an old poet:
“Praise, above all; for praise prevails;
Heap up the measure, load the scales,
And good to goodness add.
The generous soul her Saviour aids,
While peevish obloquy degrades;
The Lord is great and glad.”