THE SEAMAN'S RELIGION
Nothing is more comic than the sailor's aversion to the
person nautically recognised as the "sky-pilot." I have
known men risk imprisonment for desertion, on hearing that a
parson was going the voyage, or that the vessel was to sail
on a Friday. If any of them were asked their reason for
holding such opinions, they would no doubt make a long,
rambling statement of accidents that had happened, and the
wild wrath that follows in the wake of a ship sailing on the
forbidden day! These prejudices still survive in a modified
form. The younger generation of seamen do not view the
presence of the parson on board their ship with any strong
objection. In many cases he is rather welcomed than
otherwise. But the last generation had a strong tradition,
which could not be subdued, that no clerical gentleman
should be looked upon with favour as a passenger. The
boycott was sometimes carried out against him during the
voyage with unrelenting cruelty. Ever since the Lord
commanded Jonah, the son of Amittai, to arise and go to
Nineveh, and the Hebrew preacher took passage aboard the
ship of Tarshish instead, there has been trouble. The
senseless antipathy has been handed down the ages, and the
legacy comes from a shameless gang who were cowardly
assassins, from the skipper downward! Poor Jonah! The
tempest did not unnerve _him_; for, while the other
drivelling creatures were chucking their wares overboard, he
slept peacefully, until the bully of the crowd, and no doubt
the greatest funk, called out to him, "What meanest thou, O
sleeper? Arise, call upon thy God, if so be that God will
think upon _us_ that we perish not!" These creatures always
want sacrifices made to save their own precious skins; and
they found in the poor penitent Hebrew a willing sacrifice.
He _agreed_ that they should cast him into the sea! It is
not recorded what methods of torture were used in order to
extract his consent; but it is pretty safe to assume that
the Tarshish crew made it so hot for the poor man that he
was glad to say to them, "Take me up and cast me forth into
the sea!" Thus it comes to pass that the race of seamen
cling to a tradition which originated in craven ignorance.
Some years ago a large party was invited by me to a trial
trip of a new steamer. Amongst the guests were a number of
ministers, some of whom were my personal friends, and some
the friends of others who had been invited. A gentleman who
had been in my service for many years held strongly to the
old tradition against clerics, and vowed that no good would
ever come of such a reckless breach of nautical etiquette.
He felt assured that much ill would come of it. His
countenance the whole day betokened internal conflict! He
refused to be ridiculed into consolation, and I think has
felt chagrined ever since that nothing has happened to
justify his prophecy. It must not be supposed, however, that
men holding these views carried their resentment ashore.
Many of them were on easy terms of friendship with
sky-pilots, and listened to their devotional efforts and
teaching with fervent submission. A story, which is known
and reverently believed by the typical sailor, has done
service many times. It is this: A parson had embarked aboard
a sailing vessel as a passenger. They were crossing the Bay
of Biscay when a tempest began to rage and the darkness
became full of trouble. The sea lashed with remorseless
effect on the hull of the vessel, until her timbers cracked
and made strange noises. It was discovered that the vessel
was leaking badly, and all hands were ordered to the pumps.
The hurricane continued to roar, and the parson became
alarmed at the tumult. He at last appealed to the captain to
know whether the danger was of a serious character. The
captain informed him the danger was great; but, if he
desired to be _assured_ of his safety or otherwise, he was
to go towards the men that were pumping and listen whether
they were swearing. If they were, there was no immediate
danger. He came back and said to the captain, "Glory be to
God, they are swearing!" A short time was allowed to elapse,
and another visit was paid. He came back and informed the
commander that they were still swearing, but not quite so
hard; "Indeed," said he, "I thought I heard some of them
praying." "Ah," said the captain, "I fear if hard swearing
does not continue, and they begin to pray, there will be no
hope!" Whereupon the man of Holy Orders dropped on his knees
and offered up an eloquent supplication for Divine aid: "O
God, in Thy boundless compassion do Thou cause these sailors
to cease praying, and make them to swear with a vigour and
force that will appease the anger of the waves, and bring
Thy servants out of danger into safety!" The captain called
out "Amen," and added a supplementary petition for their
deliverance, which is said to have been granted.
Sailors of that day spoke of God with the profound belief
that He was their exalted fellow-countryman, and they did
not scruple to charge Him with indifference to their
nautical interests, if a foreigner, or a foreign vessel,
happened to gain a monetary or seafaring advantage over
them. This is not a mere legend. North Blyth, in the county
of Northumberland, was inhabited by personalities who held
definite opinions on these matters. One old gentleman, whom
I remember very well (his name was Readford, but he had the
distinction of being better known as "Barley"--why he was
given this name there is no need to relate), held very
strong views as to the functions and obligations of the
Almighty. He never doubted His existence or His power, and
he always claimed a dispensation of benefit as the right of
British patriots.
The following story, true in every essential, will show his
reasons for doing so: Barley was in command of a collier,
which traded between Blyth and London. On one of his voyages
to London he encountered a strong head-wind, which caused
him to have to beat "up Swin." A Dutch galliot--type of
vessel which has never had the reputation of being a
racer--was in company, to leeward of him. Barley managed by
dexterous manipulation to keep her there until the flood
tide was well-nigh spent; but, alas for human fallibility,
and the eccentric fluctuations of the wind, the Dutchman
stood towards the north shore, while our hero, who was
priding himself on the superior qualities of himself and his
brig, stood towards the south, whereupon the Dutchman got a
"slant of wind" which came off the north shore. The result
was the British vessel was badly weathered by the galliot.
Barley's anger could not be appeased. It was an offence
against national pride and justice! He forthwith called the
attention of his chief officer to the indignity that had
been thrust upon them. "Look," said he, in wrathful
humiliation, "there's God Almighty given that adjective
Dutchman a leading wind and allowed His own countryman to be
jammed on a lee shore!" It was said that Barley never really
forgave this unpatriotic act, though he still adhered to the
belief that the God of British seamen was stedfastly on the
side of conservatives of every kind!
There is no class of workmen that is so much thought of and
cared for as the sailor class, and there is none who need
and deserve such consideration more. It would be invidious
to draw comparisons between classes, so that all I have to
say on the point is that they have always compared
favourably with those whose avocation is different from
theirs. They are susceptible to good or evil influences.
Perhaps not more susceptible to one than to the other; and
considering the malevolent, thievish scoundrels by whom they
are continually beset, their record does not compare badly
with that of others. Vagrancy is almost unknown amongst
them, and if their vices are large their temptations are
great; but, take them as a whole, they seldom premeditate
evil. Their intentions are mostly on the side of right and
goodness. Some of them stand like a rock against being
tempted by the gangs of harpies that are always hovering
about them. Others allow their good intentions to vanish as
soon as the predatory gentlemen with their seductive methods
make their appearance. Agencies such as the Church of
England Missions to Seamen and the Wesleyan Methodist
Mission are to be thanked for the hard efforts made to keep
the sailor out of harm, and to reclaim those who have
fallen. They may be thanked also for having been the means
of diminishing, if not altogether extirpating, a loathsome
tribe of ruffians who were accustomed to feast on their
blood. These Missions are a Godsend not only to the sailor,
but to the nation. No other agency has done the work they
are doing. The Church is apt, to gather its robes round a
cantish respectability, and call out "Save the people," and
the flutter falls flat on the seats. These missions owe any
success they have had to going _to_ the people.
A few wholesome women are worth scores of men in getting at
sailors--or for that matter in getting at anybody else, and
the importance of getting more of them attached to the work
should not be overlooked. The sailor is a person of moods.
Sometimes it is religion, and sometimes it is something very
different, and it is only those women who have grace, comely
looks and supreme tact, and who carry with them a halo of
bright cheerfulness, who can deal successfully with cases
of this kind. The long-faced, too much sanctified female,
doling out fixed quantities of monotonous nothings, is an
abomination, and is calculated to drive man into chronic
debauchery. One look from this kind of awful female is a
deadly agony, and much effort should be used to avoid her.
But there are even men engaged in religious work, whose
agonising look would give any person of refined senses the
"jumps." What earthly use are such creatures to men who
crave for brightness and hope to be put into their lives,
and the passion of love to be beamed into their souls? If
people would only bear in mind that it is always difficult
to find a real soul behind a flinty face, a vast amount of
mischief would be obviated by making more suitable
selections for philanthropic and religious work. Of course
there is more needed than a pleasant look. It is imperative
that there should be combined with it knowledge, and the
knack of communicating it. All denominations have wasters
thrust upon them, sometimes by the ambition of parents that
their sons should be ministers, and sometimes by the
unbounded belief of the young men themselves in their
fitness. But it often becomes apparent that good bricklayers
or blacksmiths have been spoiled in the process of
selection; whereas a little courage and frankness on the
part of the selection people would have saved many souls and
many reputations.