EVERY day’s observation convinces me that the children of God are made so by His own special grace and power, and that all means, whether more or less, are effectual with Him, whenever He is pleased to employ them for conversion. In one of my excursions, while I was in the province of New York, I was walking by myself over a considerable plantation, amused with its husbandry, and comparing it with that of my own country, till I came within a little distance of a middle-aged negro who was tilling the ground. I felt a strong inclination, unusual with me, to converse with him. After asking him some little questions about his work, which he answered very sensibly, I wished him to tell me whether his state of slavery was not disagreeable to him, and whether he would not gladly exchange it for his liberty. “Massa,” said he, looking seriously upon me, “I have a wife and children. My Massa takes care of them, and I have no care to provide anything; I have a good Massa, who teach me to read; and I read good Book, and makes me happy.”
“I am glad,” replied I, “to hear you say so; and pray what is the good book you read?” “The Bible, Massa, God’s own good Book.” “Do you understand, friend, as well as read this Book? For many read the words well, who cannot get hold of the true and good sense.” “Oh, Massa,” says he, “I read the book much before I understand; but at last I felt pain in my heart. I found things in the book that cut me to pieces.” “Aye, I says, “and what things were they?” “Why, Massa, I found that I had a bad heart; a very bad heart indeed: I felt pain that God would destroy me, because I was wicked, and done nothing as I should do. God was so holy, and I was very vile and naughty; so I could have nothing from Him but fire and brimstone in Hell.”
I asked him what ministry or means he made use of, and found that his master was a Quaker, a plain sort of man, who taught his slaves to read, but who had not, however, even conversed with this negro upon the state of his soul. I then enquired of him how he got comfort under all this trial. “Oh, Massa, it was Christ gave me comfort by His dear word. He bade me come to Him, and He would give me rest, for I was very weary and heavy laden.” And here he went through a line of most precious texts in the Bible, showing me, by his artless comment upon them as he went along, what great things God had done in the course of some years for his soul.
I then asked him several questions about the merit of works, the justification of a sinner, the power of grace, and the like. I own I was as much astonished at, as I admired, the sweet spirit and simplicity of his answers, with the heavenly wisdom that God had put into the mind of this negro. His discourse flowing merely from the riches of grace, with a tenderness and expression far beyond the reach of art, perfectly charmed me. On the other hand, my entering into all his feelings, together with an account to him which he had never heard before, that thus and thus the Lord in His mercy dealt with all His children, and had dealt with me, drew streams of joyous tears down his black face, that we looked upon each other, and talked with that inexpressible glow of Christian affection, that made me more than ever believe what I have often too thoughtlessly professed to believe—the communion of saints. I shall never forget how the poor, excellent creature seemed to hang upon my lips, and to eat my very words when I enlarged upon the love of Christ to poor sinners, the free bounty, and tender mercy of God, the frequent and delightful sense He gives of His presence, the faith He bestows in His promises, the victories this faith is enabled to get over trials and temptations, the joy and peace in believing, the hope in life and death, and the glorious expectation of immortality. To have taken off his eager, delighted, animated air and manners would have been a masterpiece for a Reynolds. He had never heard such a discourse nor found the opportunity of hearing it before. He seemed like a man who had been thrown into a new world, and at length had found company. Though my conversation lasted at least two or three hours, I scarcely ever enjoyed the happy swiftness of time so sweetly in all my life.
We knew not how to part. He would accompany me as far as he might; and I felt on my side such a delight in the artless, savoury, solid, unaffected experience of this dear soul, that I could have been glad to see him often there, or to see his like at any time now. But my situation rendered this impossible. I, therefore, took an affectionate adieu, with an ardour equal to the warmest and the most ancient friendship, telling him that neither the colour of his body nor the condition of his present life could prevent him from being my dear brother in our dear Saviour; and that though we must part now, never to see each other any more in this world, I had no doubt of our having another joyful meeting in our Father’s home, where we should live together and love one another throughout a long and happy eternity. “Amen, amen, my dear Massa; God bless you, and poor me too, for ever and ever.” If I had been an angel from Heaven, he could not have received me with more evident delight than he did; nor could I have considered him with a more sympathetic regard if he had been a long-known Christian of the good old sort, grown up into my affections in the course of many years. Happy world, if all were Christians, or, at least, happy Christians, if they showed more of this fraternal affection to each other in the world! None can deny that so it ought to be. O that every one who names the name of Christ, and believes himself to be a member of this undivided body, would pray for faith and charity to put the whole thing into being. Blessed Lord, Fountain of life and love, send forth the Spirit of thy Son into my heart, and into the hearts of all my brethren; that waiving all mean and selfish distinctions, we may first love thee above all things, and then each other with a pure heart fervently. Subdue animosities, and all the separating corruptions of the flesh, and let us consider ourselves as brethren, fellowheirs of the grace of life, persons who shall pass an eternity together, yea, as parts of each other, and members, Holy Jesus, of thy body, flesh and thy bones. Even so let it be, for thy glory and for our present and eternal consolation through thy grace. Amen.—Ambrose Serle.