do it, and think it a
happy reward for all of the hazards and difficulties of such a broken
disappointed voyage as I have met with, that I have dropped at last into
so glorious a work."
I discovered a kind of rapture in his face while he spoke this to me;
his eyes sparkled like fire, his face bowed, and his colour came and
went as if he had been falling into fits; in a word, he was tired with
the agony of being embarked in such a work. I paused a considerable
while before I could tell what to say to him, for I was really surprised
to find a man of such sincerity and zeal, and carried out in his zeal
beyond the ordinary rate of men, not of his profession only, but even of
any profession whatsoever. But after I had considered it awhile, I asked
him seriously if he was in earnest, and that he would venture on the
single consideration of an attempt on those poor people, to be locked up
in an unplanted island for perhaps his life, and at last might not know
whether he should be able to do them any good or not?
He turned short upon me, and asked me what I called a venture? "Pray,
Sir," said he, "what do you think I consented to go in your ship to the
East Indies for?"--"Nay," said I, "that I know not, unless it was to
preach to the Indians."--"Doubtless it was," said he; "and do you think
if I can convert these seven-and-thirty men to the faith of Christ, it
is not worth my time, though I should never be fetched off the island
again? Nay, is it not infinitely of more worth to save so many souls
than my life is, or the life of twenty more of the same profession? Yes,
Sir," says he, "I would give Christ and the Blessed Virgin thanks all my
days, if I could be made the least happy instrument of saving the souls
of these poor men though I was never to set my foot off this island, or
see my native country any more. But since you will honour me," says he,
"with putting me into this work, (for which I will pray for you all the
days of my life) I have one humble petition to you," said he
"besides."--"What is that?" said I. "Why," says he, "it is, that you
will leave your man Friday with me, to be my interpreter to them, and to
assist me for without some help I cannot speak to them, or they to me."
I was sensibly troubled at his requesting Friday, because I could not
think of parting with him, and that for many reasons. He had been the
companion of my travels; he was not only faithful to me, but sincerely
affectionate to the last
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