Late in the last autumn it was my privilege (says the author) to spend
a few hours in the hospitable mansion of the Rev. S. B. W., of F. I
arrived at his house very early in the morning, just before the family
assembled to perform their customary devotions. On the signal being
given, the children and domestics came into the room where we were
sitting.
Among the latter, there was a very aged colored man, whom every one
called Uncle Harry. As soon as he entered, I observed that Mr. W. and
his lady treated him with marked attention and kindness. The morning
was sharp and frosty, and Uncle Harry had a chair in the corner, close
to the fire.
The portion of Scripture selected for the service was the second
chapter of Luke. I observed that the attention of Harry was deeply
fixed, and he soon began to manifest strong emotions. The old man's eye
kindled as the reader went on, and when he came to the tenth verse,
Harry appeared as though his heart was tuned to the angelic song, and
he could hardly help uttering a shout of triumph.
There was not, however, the smallest ostentation of feeling, or
endeavor to attract attention. He only, in a gentle manner, turned his
face upward, strongly clasping his hands as they lay on his lap, and
expressing by his countenance the joy of his heart. By this time he had
interested me so highly that I could not keep my eyes from him.
I watched the varying expressions of his countenance, and saw that
every word seemed to strike on his heart, and produce a corresponding
emotion. I thought I would give the world, if I could _read_ the Bible
just as Harry _heard_ it. While I was thinking, and looking on with
intense interest, the reader came to the passage where old Simeon saw
the infant Saviour, took him in his arms, blessed God, and said,
"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation."
Harry's emotion had become stronger and stronger, until the words
just quoted were read, when he was completely overpowered. Suddenly
turning on his seat, to hide as much as possible his feelings, he bent
forward and burst into a flood of tears; but they were tears of joy.
He anticipated his speedy peaceful departure and his final rest. This
state of feeling continued during the remainder of the service, and
when we rose from our knees, Uncle Harry's face seemed literally to
have been bathed in tears.
As soon as we had risen, the old man came toward me with a countenance
beaming with joy. "This," said Mr. W., addressing me, "is _Uncle
Harry_." He reached out his hand and said: "Oh, why did my God bring
me here to-day, to hear what I have heard, and see this salvation?" I
asked: "Are you as ready to depart, Uncle Harry, as good old Simeon
was, of whom we read in this chapter?" I shall never forget his look of
humble, joyful submission, when he replied, "Just when it shall please
my blessed Lord and Master." "You hope to go to heaven?" "Through
divine mercy, I do." "What is the foundation of that hope?" "The
righteousness of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."
On perceiving that I wished to converse with the old man, Mr. W. said,
with a kindness which showed that he recognized Harry as a Christian
brother, and respected his age: "Come, take your seat again, Uncle
Harry, and sit up near the fire." He accepted the invitation, and I
entered into conversation, which afforded me higher pleasure than I
ever enjoyed in the circles of fashion, beauty, wit and learning. I
here send you some of the most interesting particulars.
"How old are you, Uncle Harry?" "Why, as nigh as I can tell, I am
eighty-nine or thereabout." "Where were you born?" "At Port Tobacco, in
Maryland." "And who had you to preach the gospel to you there?" "Ah, we
had no preacher of the gospel there at that time." "Then it was after
you left Port Tobacco that you embraced religion, was it?" "No, sir, it
was while I lived there, and I will tell you how it was: A great many
years ago there was one Dr. Whitefield, that travelled all through this
country, preaching the gospel everywhere; I dare say you have heard of
Dr. Whitefield, he was a most powerful preacher.
"Well, as I was saying, he went through Maryland, but his place of
preaching was so far off that I did not hear of it until he was gone.
But not long afterwards I met a man, an acquaintance of mine, who did
hear him. He told me about the sermon; and what I heard opened my eyes
to see that I was a poor lost sinner; and ever since that time I have
been determined to seek Jesus as my Saviour, and to spend my life in
His service."
Happy Whitefield! thought I, and greatly honored of thy Master, who
has used thee as His instrument in saving so many souls. "But," said I,
"how old were you then?" "Why, as nigh as I can guess, I was somewhere
about sixteen or seventeen years old." "And have you never repented of
this resolution?" "No, indeed, master; I have never repented of any
thing, but that I have served my blessed Saviour so poorly."
"But have you not met many trials and difficulties by the way?" "Yes,
indeed, master; but out of them all the Lord has delivered me; and
having obtained help of God, I continue to this day: blessed be His
name; He never will leave me or forsake me; I have good hope of that."
"Well, how did you obtain religious instruction where you lived, as you
say there was no preacher of the gospel in the neighborhood?" "Why, by
the mercy of my God, I learned to read the Bible; and that showed me
the way to Jesus. But now I think of it, when the Roman Catholics heard
that I was concerned about my soul, they sent for me, and tried hard to
get me to join them.
"There was a priest at Port Tobacco, whose name was Mr. O'Neal; he
talked to me a great deal. I remember he said to me one day, 'Harry,
now you are concerned about your soul, you must come and join the
Catholic church.' 'What for,' said I, 'Mr. O'Neal?' 'Because,' said
he, 'it is the true church.' 'Then,' said I, 'if the Catholic church
will lead me to Jesus, I will join it with all my heart, for that is
all I want;' and Mr. O'Neal said, 'If you will join the church, I
will warrant that you shall go to heaven.' 'How can you do that, Mr.
O'Neal?' said I.
"Then he told me that a great many years ago our Saviour came into the
world, and He chose twelve apostles, and made St. Peter their head;
and the Pope succeeded St. Peter; and so all that join the Pope belong
to the true church. 'Then,' said I, 'why, how do you know that, Mr.
O'Neal?' 'Because,' said he, 'our Saviour told Peter, I give you the
keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatsoever you bind on earth shall
be bound in heaven, and whatsoever you loose on earth shall be loosed
in heaven.'
"And I said, 'The Lord knows how it is, Mr. O'Neal; I am a poor
ignorant creature, but it always did seem to me that Peter was nothing
but a man, like the other apostles;' but Mr. O'Neal said, 'No, he was
the head and chief of the apostles; for our Saviour said again, Thou
art Peter, and on this rock I will build My church; and the gates of
hell shall not prevail against it.' And I asked him, 'Now, do you think
Peter was that rock, Mr. O'Neal?' He answered, 'To be sure he was;' and
I said again, 'The Lord knows how it is; but it never did seem so to me.
"'Now I think it was just so--when Peter said, Thou art the Christ, the
Son of the living God, our Saviour told him, Thou _art Peter_,'" (while
the old man repeated the words, _Thou art Peter_, he pointed his finger
at me, and looked me directly in the face, but as soon as he began the
following part of the quotation he brought his hand briskly down to
his knee, saying with emphasis, as he looked at himself), "'and upon
this rock will I build My church; and that rock was Christ; for it is
written in another place, Behold, I lay in Zion a chief corner-stone,
elect, precious; and he that believeth on Him shall not be confounded;
and that corner-stone is Christ.'
"Then Mr. O'Neal said to me, 'Why, Harry, where did you learn that?' I
said, 'From my Bible.' 'Oh!' said he, 'you have no business with the
Bible; it will confuse and frustrate you.' But I said, 'It tells me of
my Saviour.' Then a gentleman, who was sitting by, said, 'Oh! you might
as well let him alone, Mr. O'Neal; you cannot make anything of him;'
and from that time I never had any desire to join the Roman Catholics."
The narrative, of the truth of which I could not entertain a moment's
doubt, showed a promptness of reply and an acquaintance with the
Scriptures which truly surprised me, and I remarked, "I suppose, Uncle
Harry, you take great pleasure in reading the Bible?" "Ah, master! when
I could read, it was the pleasure of my life. But I am old now; and my
book is so rubbed that the print is dim, and I can scarcely make out to
read a word."
On this, Mr. W. said, "Well, Uncle Harry, you shall have a new Bible.
Do you call on Mr. ----, when you go down town, and he will give you a
new one from the Bible Society." Harry bowed, and expressed gratitude
for the kindness, but did not manifest as much pleasure as I expected,
considering how highly he professed to value the Bible. While I was
wondering, and rather sorrowing on the account, I observed the old man
to be feeling, with an air of embarrassment, in his pocket.
At length he pulled out an old tattered case, which appeared to have
been long in use, and observed, "This new Bible will not be of much
use to me, because my spectacles are so bad that they help me very
little in reading." With that he opened his case, and showed a pair of
spectacles of the cheapest sort, of which one glass was broken, and the
other so scratched, that it was wonderful that he could see through it
at all.
Mr. W. no sooner observed this than he said, "Well, Uncle Harry, you
must have a new pair; do call at Mr. ----'s store, and tell him to let
you have a pair suited to your age, and I will settle with him about
it." On hearing this, Harry's eyes gleamed with joy, and he exclaimed,
"Thank God! God bless you, master! Now I shall have comfort again in
reading the Bible." And I never saw a happier, or a more grateful
countenance.
Presently, he said the wagon would soon call for him to take him home,
and he must go down town, and be getting ready: on which he again
thanked his friend, and invoked a blessing on him and his family. He
then affectionately and respectfully took me by the hand, and said, "I
never saw you before, and I never shall see you again in this world;
but I love you as a minister of my blessed Lord and Master, and I hope
that I shall meet you in the house above. Remember and pray for poor
old Harry."
I squeezed his hand, and assured him of my affectionate remembrance,
and requested that he would pray for me, and for the preachers of the
Gospel generally. "Oh!" said he, "may God Almighty bless all the dear
ministers of Christ, and enable them to call many poor sinners to the
dear Saviour! Oh! I do love to hear of souls coming to Christ; and it
is my daily prayer--Thy kingdom come, and Thy will be done on earth, as
it is done in heaven!" With that the old man took leave.
I confess that I have often since wished to see him and hold communion
with him. There was about him a spirit of piety and benevolence,
of humble zeal and fervent hope, of meekness and submission, which
I have rarely seen equalled. At the same time, there was a degree
of intelligence, an extent of religious knowledge, which, in his
condition, really surprised and delighted me.
I saw here one of the triumphs of divine grace. I was made to
appreciate the value and the excellence of that religion which could
take a poor slave, and so transform him, that he was well nigh fitted
to be a companion of saints in light, and of just men made perfect.
And since I saw him, I have often prayed that after the days of my
wandering shall be over, and all the sufferings of my life shall
be endured, I may obtain a share in the rest, and a lot in the
inheritance, which I have no doubt are prepared for Uncle Harry.