WHO was William Reid? Was he some great general, like Grant, upon whose skill the fate of a continent had depended? Or some great politician, like Bismarck, to whose iron will all Europe bows? Or some philanthropist, like Peabody, with whose praises America and Europe alike have rung? He was none of these. Neither councils of war, nor councils of state, ever knew his presence; while as to munificence, however great his love to mankind was — and it was great — riches and wealth were never his. Who was he then, this William Reid? He was simply the colored cook on board the sailing ship “Rangitikei,” which sailed from Auckland, in New Zealand, for London on August the 25th, 1884. Such indeed he was by birth and circumstances; but he was also, what eternity alone will fully reveal, a son of God by faith in Jesus Christ.
To be shut up in a ship for weeks or months with men who know not the Lord is ever a trial to those to whom, through grace, He has become precious, and it was indeed a cheer, therefore, to find on board, one like Reid entirely devoted to His Master’s service. No trumpet that gave an uncertain sound was his — no light hidden under a bushel was his — but out of the fullness of a full heart, he loved to tell forth the praises of the Saviour who died for him. Thus every evening during the long, cold nights between New Zealand and the Horn (and owing to constant easterly gales we were forty-two days in rounding it), while the wind shrieked through the cordage as we lay to, and the ship plunged sullenly into the great heat seas, he would gather together into the galley all that would come, to tell them of the Saviour’s love. What a contrast! Without the howling gale, angry seas, and the icy breezes of those low latitudes; within, the light, and warmth, and peace, and story of God’s love. No flights of oratory were his no gorgeous similes, no sounding phrases reading God’s word (and this he never failed to do), and in a few short, powerful word: drawing out there from the lesson of the exceeding greatness of God’s love, and the exceeding hatefulness of sin, this was all he sought to do.
And what a happy disposition was his! He was one who was ever singing and making melody in his heart to God. Well can I recall him at his work — now heaving his bucket over the side, now giving a stir to the great pipkin of pea-soup, and now, with a cleaver, smashing up some packing case for firewood —singing with his great bass voice, “Dare to be a Daniel” (smash, down comes the cleaver), “Dare to stand alone” (smash), “Dare to have a purpose true” (smash — an extra powerful one this time), “Dare to make it known.”
“It is no wonder we get head winds,” said the captain to me one morning; “I caught that rascally cook singing, ‘Dare to be a Jonah.’” Nevertheless, the captain well knew that the cook had something to which he was himself a stranger. The very gladness of heart of one who knows God’s full and free salvation is a testimony in itself to the unsaved.
On a preceding voyage, in another ship, Reid had proclaimed the gospel seemingly without result, one of the crew, a German and an infidel, especially annoying him. One day this man came to Reid with an infidel question, and he replied that he was not much of a scholar himself, but that God had spoken in His word, and then he quoted a verse of Scripture. Reid then asked the infidel to speak to one of the lady passengers, whom he had found was a believer, adding that she would tell him more than he could.
In the course of a few hours the lady in question came to the galley to rejoice with Reid over the infidel. He was much surprised, and said, “Why, he hasn’t long left me, after asking me some infidel question.”
“Yes,” replied the lady, “and the text you quoted went home, and, instead of coming to ask me for explanations, he came to tell me that the Lord had spoken to him.” Several conversions followed among the men all the crew were spoken to about their souls — and the saved men longed for their captain. Now anyone who has been on board ship will know what an autocrat the captain is, and how difficult of approach, especially for the crew. After much deliberation, they decided that the German should undertake the service, and an opportunity having presented itself, he carried it out. The captain listened attentively, and finally broke down, and owned, with tears, that he was a believer, but had been living away from God for years. Happy, indeed, were the meetings held after this on board that ship!
On board the “Rangitikei” one of the men professed to find Christ, but shortly afterwards fought with one of the crew, from which time, out of shame, he did not attend the meetings. Others of the crew were also impressed, and who knows but that yet the word then sown will bear fruit to Christ’s glory? One man, an Irishman and a Catholic, pretended to be exercised, and had a long talk with Reid, who brought the word to bear. At the end of the conversation the Irishman said, “Doctor” (all ships’ cooks are called “doctors”), “I thought we differed, but I find we’re both agreed.” Continuing, solemnly, “Yes, we’re agreed; you keep your opinion, and I keep mine.” He then fled, leaving poor Reid to his discomfiture!
Speaking generally, like the Master whom he served, Reid’s reward was with God, and there was little externally to cheer him. Thus, after rounding the Horn, when the weather grew warmer, and the sailors no longer needed the comfort of the galley fire, his congregation grew less and less, till one day I found him sitting alone in the galley between two piles of hymn-books, and he said, “I tink de men ob dis ship are Parsees— at any rate, they are fire-worshippers.”
On subsequent nights during our long voyage of one hundred and thirty-eight days the writer met Reid in his cabin (fortunately, he had one to himself) to read the word, and thus by the study of the Bible did Reid, whose heart was set on giving up the sea to devote himself entirely to the Lord’s service among the colored people of his native land, Jamaica, get clearer views as to the fullness, length and breadth, of the gospel of God. How delighted he was as the treasures of the word opened out to his soul the testimony, in the Epistle to the Romans, of man alive in sins, each member warring against God (Rom. 3:10-1910As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: 11There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. 12They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one. 13Their throat is an open sepulchre; with their tongues they have used deceit; the poison of asps is under their lips: 14Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness: 15Their feet are swift to shed blood: 16Destruction and misery are in their ways: 17And the way of peace have they not known: 18There is no fear of God before their eyes. 19Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. (Romans 3:10‑19)), and God’s solemn verdict pronounced, “None righteous, no, not one!” But God commending His own love to us, “in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us,” and His setting forth Christ as a mercy-seat through faith in His blood, so that His claims against the sinner having been met, He can act consistently with His own character in justifying him which believeth in Jesus (3:26). And the truth of the believer bidden to reckon himself to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God in Jesus Christ our Lord (6:11) and to practically show in his life, “that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life” (6:4).
Also those treasures in the Epistle to the Colossians (2:13), of the believer, once dead in sins, but quickened out of that state of death, together with Christ, and risen with Him (3:1). He ascended, and sitting at God’s right hand, while the believer, as a risen man, bidden to seek those things that are above, where Christ sitteth! And again those in the Epistle to the Ephesians (2:5, 6), of the believer, once dead in sins, but quickened together with Christ, and raised up, and made to sit in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.
Greatly did he enjoy these and other precious truths, and specially that of God setting man aside at the cross, and giving the believer in Jesus a life beyond death and judgment in Christ risen from among the dead.
Well, the long voyage came at last to an end, and Reid accompanied me through the docks to the nearest cabstand, where, with a hearty shake of the hand and “God bless you,” I, the invalid, said farewell to him, the strong man, to meet him never again until we meet together amid the ransomed host. Shortly after landing he wrote to me, saying that he was waiting for a vessel to take him to Jamaica, and that meanwhile he was working for the Lord in the East end of London. I replied, but got no answer in return, till on May 28th a letter came in a strange handwriting, telling me that Reid had caught smallpox, had been taken to the hospital, and had died, and was buried at the East End Cemetery, Finchley, on April 25th My correspondent adding, “Dear Reid often spoke about you, and the happy times you had coming home. How beautiful the Epistles are!” So there he rests.
No mighty throng of mourners swelled his funeral train, no marble monument adorns his grave; unwept, unknown, he lies; but when the trump shall sound, and the archangel’s voice be heard, when the Lord Himself shall descend and rally the sleeping and the living saints — for He will send no messenger to fetch His own — Reid, too, will be caught up to meet Him in the air, no longer in his body of humiliation, here despised because of his race, but with a body of glory like unto His own. Surely we mourn him, and others such as he, not as mourners without hope. Surely we comfort one another with these words. How often would he sing—
“It is well with my soul.”
Well then, but better now — for “to depart and be with Christ is far better.”
Fellow believer, are you delighting, as Reid did, out of a full heart to tell out to a perishing world the love of Him who died? Fellow sinner, will you madly reject or neglect so great salvation, and leave this world for eternal banishment from the presence of God? or will you, as a lost sinner, accept the Saviour who so lovingly invites you to Himself, and enjoy that Saviour here and in eternity?
J.F.