IT was a cold spring day, the sea was rough, and the wind boisterous, and as we were resting awhile beside a shelter on the beach, noticing an old boatman close by, we spoke to him as to the prospects of the weather. Presently, mentioning Plymouth, we found he had lived there long ago, and sat talking with him of the old days there.
“Forty years have I been here on this beach,” he said, “but I remember those days well. Ah! those were very different times; the fishermen and boatmen there were a rough set then, and though there was a little ‘Bethel’ there, the ‘Rag’ we called it, there were few places where us seafaring men could be spoken to, or could hear anything about Jesus.”
“Do you know Jesus?” we asked.
“Yes, thank God,” replied the old boatman, “I do.”
“Do you know Him as your Saviour?”
“Oh yes,” he answered, “I know I am saved. I knowed about Him then, in a way, and ever since I was a child. But I grew up rather wild, and always went out with my boat Sundays, as I’m sorry to say my son do now. I was a seven-day worker then, and when I came here, I did the same, though my conscience often used to trouble me.
But the Lord had to bring me right down low. I had taken a fish shop, but times became bad, and then a long illness overtook me, I got downright hard up, though I didn’t like to tell anybody, till at last it came about that our very last penny was spent. Just then, a lady heard how ill I was, and called to see me―a minister’s wife she was, ―and so my wife told her how I couldn’t get the strengthening food I needed, and her husband brought me a little help, bless him!”
Waving his hand towards his boats, and indicating a row of some dozen or more bathing machines at a little distance, he added, “All these are mine now, and they all sprang out of those few shillings. That was the turning point of my life in another way too, for the first Sunday I could get out I thought I would go and hear the minister preach, and the Lord sent the word straight home to my heart. I do remember the verse now. I went back to my bedside, and kneeling sown, there and then, asked God to save me, a poor lost sinner, and, praise His name, He forgave me. Since I’ve belonged to Jesus, I’ve been a six-day worker, and I do ask Him every morning to give me some opportunity that day to serve Him in my humble little way, whether by giving a penny to some poor man, or saying a word to some rich man, and He does give me such openings, it’s just wonderful!”
The old boatman’s happy, weather-beaten face told its own story of the joy of such service.
“I’m getting old now,” he continued, “and I don’t often go out with my boats, except sometimes with the visitors’ families, for I do love little children, and what do you think?” he added, with a bright smile, “I’m having a new boat built, you know, and I ask the children to guess the name I’m going to give her. Some say one name and some another, and they grow quite curious to know. ‘Well,’ I say, ‘I’m going to call her COME.’ ‘Oh!’ they cry, ‘what a strange name!’ And then I tell them how Jesus, said ‘Suffer the little children to come unto Me,’ and that He wants them to come, and so I talk to them of Jesus and His love.”
As we rose to leave, the old man said, “Good-bye; we will pray for each other. I have unsaved sons, you know, but I do believe they will be brought in yet.”
“Faithful over a few things,” may this dear old boatman see his heart’s desire answered, and his sons be brought to know their father’s Saviour, and may we, from his simple faithfulness in witnessing for Christ, be stirred up to occupy till He shall come. E. B.