The Good Black Doctor

Table of Contents

1. The Good Black Doctor (A True Story)

The Good Black Doctor (A True Story)

In the Franco-Prussian war of 1871, which culminated at Sedan, there was a great International hospital in the town, at the head of which was a distinguished doctor from St. Bartholomew's Hospital. He died there from confluent smallpox caught from a patient, and was so much beloved that he was given a military funeral, which was followed by the troops of both armies and headed by the Mayor of Sedan. This distinguished physician was Dr. Davis, generally known as "The Good Black Doctor."
He came from Barbadoes. His father was a European, his mother, a Barbadian. He himself was as black as ebony, though a tall and distinguished-looking man. A few days before his death he sent me the following account of his last journey, one week before he succumbed to the fatal disease.
Just then the train was passing the Crystal Palace on the right. Its panes of glass were shining like diamonds in the rays of the afternoon sun. The gentleman behind the Times began:
"Wonderful building that; how fine it looks. I hear it's full of students of an evening. What advantages our young people have now. There was nothing like it in my school life. Young men and women have much to be thankful for to-day."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied the little lady, to whom he seemed to be addressing his remarks. "I don't see that children now are any better than we were; indeed, in many respects they are worse. These huge places of amusement do a lot of harm. Boys and girls do pretty much as they like now; while as for morality, the less said the better."
Dr. Davis saw his opportunity, and in the purest English said — as he slowly opened his eyes and leaned forward — "Morality, ma'am?"
The little lady nearly had a fit. She sprang right off her seat, and as she came down again, said faintly,
"Oh, sir, I'm so sorry. I'd no idea you understood our language. I don't know what you must think of me!"
"I think you said 'morality,' ma'am?" repeated Dr. Davis.
"Yes, sir, I did."
"And what is morality, ma'am?"
"Morality, sir, is a very good thing. We couldn't do without it. Could we, John?"
"Well, no, my dear, I don't think we could. At any rate, sir, we are not going to try."
"Morality, sir, is a very good thing for both worlds," added his wife.
"For both worlds?" he inquired.
"For both worlds, sir. There is another besides ours—indeed, there are two; one is called Heaven and the other is called Hell."
"And what are they like, ma'am?"
"Heaven, sir," replied the woman, delighted that she had now actually got into conversation with 'the African Prince,' "is where the angels are, and where all the good people go—all gold and glass, and harps and happiness; and Hell, sir, is where the devil is, and is a dreadful place, where all the bad and wicked people are—all flames and horrid darkness; and we must go to one or the other when we die."
The 'African Prince' leaned forward full of interest.
"And how can we get to Heaven, ma'am?"
"Well, sir," said the little lady with a triumphant look at John, "it's quite easy. Of course, you must be good and kind to all and forgive everyone their offenses. And you must be baptized and be sorry for your sins, and go to Church and take the sacrament, and love your enemies, help the poor, and do as you would be done by, and—and that's the way to Heaven. Isn't it, John?"
"Quite right, my dear;" and then in a low voice, "but if you go on with this conversation you're sure to get into a mess." And then to Dr. Davis, who was still politely listening:
"I might say, sir, if you wish any further information on these matters, we have a most excellent clergyman at Folkestone who will tell you all you wish to know. I can give you his address."
"Sir," replied the black doctor, "we are traveling at fifty miles an hour, and I should like to be sure now of the way to Heaven."
"Well, sir," interposed the little lady rather piqued, "haven't I just told you word for word, just as it's written in the Bible?"
"The Bible, ma'am?"
"The Bible, sir; the Bible is God's Book, written to tell us the way to Heaven. You'll find it all there exactly as I've said, and of course as my husband told you, if you would like to see our clergyman, you will find he knows all about it as well."
"Oh, ma'am," said the doctor, "I should much like to see it in the Bible."
"And so you shall, sir," replied the little lady, who proceeded to hunt in her bag. After she had rummaged in it for some time without success, she turned to the unsympathetic John, "Have you got a Bible anywhere?"
"No, my dear, I haven't; and you had much better leave the gentleman alone."
Nothing, however, could daunt the lady's missionary zeal.
"Excuse me, sir," addressing the gentleman in the corner, "Have you a Bible?"
"No, I have not, ma'am; and I consider these religious conversations in railway carriages most improper."
"Have you a Bible?" pursued the little lady, nothing daunted, turning to the two spinster ladies in turn.
"No," replied each one in succession, "I'm afraid we have not."
"Dear me," said the little lady. "I fear, sir, we haven't a Bible in the carriage. I'm so sorry. But I have told you word for word the way to Heaven; and as John, my husband, sir, says, our vicar will be most pleased to see you at Folkestone.'
"I wish I could see the passage now," said Dr. Davis with a sigh, as he leaned back again and closed his eyes.
The little lady gazed for a time earnestly at her hearer, and then she gave a little sigh, as she took up her knitting once more, and retired from the mission field.
There was a silence once more in the carriage as the train roared through the dusk of the evening.
After a while Dr. Davis slowly felt in has coat pocket, and drew out a small book. Leaning forward once more, and holding it out, he said to the lady, "Was that what you were looking for'?"
"Oh dear, yes, sir. Why, that's the Testament—the very book."
"The Testament, ma'am?"
"Yes, sir, the Bible has two Testaments; there is the Old Testament and the New."
"And which is this, ma'am?"
"This, sir, is the New."
"And which tells us the way to Heaven'?"
"Why, the New, sir; that's the very book!"
"Would you kindly show me the passage you spoke of, ma'am?"
"With pleasure, sir," said the lady, bright again with missionary zeal, taking the book in her hands.
She then rapidly turned its pages, first one way and then the other. Then after casting her gaze on the ceiling for inspiration, turned them over again; the doctor's eyes being fixed on her all the time.
After fumbling in vain for some minutes, and getting very red, she turned to her husband, "John!" "Yes, my dear."
"Do you know where that passage is that tells us the way to Heaven?"
"No, I don't, Maria; and you see what a mess you've got into. I haven't the least idea where it is."
In despair, the lady rapidly turned over the pages once more, but all in vain. "I'm afraid, sir, I can't lay my hands on the exact passage. I know it's just about here. My poor head is not so young as it once was, and I can't think of the verse. But it's all there, sir, exactly as I told you, for I know it by heart."
"Would you allow me, ma'am?" said Dr. Davis, very politely, gently taking the Testament out of
her hands, and turning the leaves over to the Gospel of St. John, chapter 3, verse 16, which he indicated with his finger. "Was that the passage?"
"Oh dear, yes, sir; why, they are the very words. Just as I said. Now sir, you can read it for yourself, and see it's all true," and she lay back triumphantly.
"Would you allow me to read this passage aloud, ma'am?"
"Certainly."
So Dr. Davis read: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."
"There, sir," said the lady in high spirits, and evidently without any suspicion of the storm about to burst, "the very words I told you. I'm so glad you've found it. I knew it was there."
"One moment, ma'am. I should first like to say a word to the gentleman in the corner. Sir, I don't know who you are, or what you call yourself, but of one thing I am sure. The man that says that a British railway carriage is not a place where a supposed heathen (which I thank God I am not) may learn the way to Heaven is unworthy of the name of Englishman!"
The little lady quietly applauded.
"But as for you, ma'am," he continued, "you are ten times worse. I came into this carriage, and you believed me to be a heathen Prince, and seemed anxious to tell me the way to Heaven; so I asked you, and you told me I had to do this, and that, and the other, and you have never opened your mouth to tell me one word of what Christ has done for me. Not one syllable of all you told me is to be found in this glorious text; and no word that it contains has passed your lips. You have utterly misled me. Your religion is two letters short.
"It is ‘D-O,' do; and mine is ‘D-O-N-E,' done; and this makes all the difference."
The poor missionary collapsed, while the supposed heathen proclaimed the glorious Gospel of the Cross to a now attentive audience, until the train drew up at Folkestone Harbor Station.
On his way to the boat in his mackintosh, for a fine rain was falling, Dr. Davis felt a slight tug at his overcoat. Turning round he found the two spinster ladies at his heels.
"Oh, sir," said the one who had given the pull, "you will excuse us, but we could not let you go without thanking you for the blessing your words have been to us.
"We always thought we had to do our best to get to Heaven, and never understood that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ had done all the work of Atonement for us, and that we can now know that we are saved. (1 John 5:13)
"Sir," she continued, her eyes full of tears, "we shall have to thank God for all eternity for this afternoon."
In a week Dr. Davis himself had passed away to his Eternal Rest.
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The GOSPEL OF THE LORD JESUS brings us not a work to do, but a Savior to trust in who has done the work. Trust Him now!
Here is a suggested prayer:
Lord Jesus, I need you. Thank you for dying for me. I receive you now as my Savior and Lord. Thank you for forgiving my sins. By your resurrection power please enable me to live as you would want me to live.
Amen.
If that prayer expresses your desire, pray it once more.
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